Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Anxiety stabbed Willa’s spine, sending a shriek of adrenaline through her body.
Sunglasses shielded the woman’s eyes, but Willa didn’t need to see them. She knew exactly how hard and cold they looked.
Why is my mother here?
Everyone must’ve clocked the change in Willa, because the laughter in the room subsided.
A moment ago, she’d been exhilarated.
Now, she felt vulnerable. Exposed.
Still, the piano continued, oblivious.
Slowly, her mother lifted the sunglasses to the top of her head, until they held her chin-length blonde hair back behind her ears. Two-carat diamonds glittered from each lobe.
Her mom’s gaze traveled over the room—the silk gowns, the crowded tables, the mounted sepia-toned photographs of ancestors, and the oak bar that spanned the length of the room.
In the mirror, clouded with age, Willa caught a glimpse of herself and became acutely aware of her messy hair. The absence of lipstick. The faint sheen of perspiration on her flushed face.
If Nate and Kendall could see her now—my God, I’d be the laughingstock of the office. They’d tease her mercilessly about being a small-town girl playing dress up.
This was exactly the kind of life her mom had spent decades outrunning.
Her mom tilted her head once and sharply toward the hallway that led to the private office. The command jerked the thread between them, and Willa followed. She couldn’t look at her dad. Couldn’t bear to see Decker’s expression of pity.
The staff went back to work, the guests resumed eating, and the piano played on.
Her legs felt stiff, like she’d been sitting too long. Framed photographs lined the walls of the hallway—stern-faced men in vests and boots, women in high-necked blouses standing beside them. The air smelled faintly of paper and polish.
The office door closed behind her with a click.
“What the hell was that?” her mom asked.
“I told you I’m restoring the inn.”
“Why, Willa? What’s the point? You don’t live here. You’re never coming back. Let your father sell it.”
Her spine snapped upright. Her embarrassment burned off, and the slight nausea evaporated. “I’m not going to be the first generation to sell this place.”
“It’s not yours to sell.”
The sting traveled all the way down to her toes. “It’s my father’s.”
As if bored by the conversation, her mother surveyed the room. The desktop computer. The stack of vendor contracts. Her dad’s desk, nicked and scuffed by time. “Remember AgraTerra Global?” Her mom’s clean shift into lawyer-mode knocked Willa off-kilter.
It took a moment to tip from one world into the other. “Of course. You’ve been working on that for years.” The agricultural giant was looking to buy VerdantIQ, a cutting-edge AI platform. It had the potential to be the biggest merger in history.
Being lead associate on that deal would put Willa’s name on the map.
“Well, it’s happening,” her mom said. “They’re merging.”
“That’s amazing, Mom. Congratulations.” Say what you want about Elizabeth Barrett’s bloodless nature, but she was successful for a reason. She always got what she wanted.
“Three-point-two billion,” her mom said. “Cross-border assets. AI integration. You won’t see another deal like this in your lifetime.”
The punch of adrenaline knocked her fully into her mom’s world. “Antitrust?”
“A few regulatory hurdles.” Her mom’s eyes gleamed. “Nothing we can’t handle.”
Willa could already see the deal chart in her head. Diligence streams. Employment negotiations. Integration planning. “I want the lead on this one.”
“Of course.” Her mom gave a slight nod. “There’s no one else I’d give it to.”
There it was. The hit. The validation Willa craved. No one else I’d give it to. This is what she lived for.
“No one else can bridge tech and complex cross-border regulatory issues like you can.” Her mother’s gaze drifted toward the saloon doors, where someone laughed too loudly. “Pack your bags. I’ve got a car waiting to take us to the airstrip.”
“What? Now?”
“Of course, now. AgraTerra isn’t a summer internship.” She lifted an arm in disbelief. “I’m sorry if it interferes with your amateur theater.”
The insult landed exactly as intended. Her mind moved ahead to the next steps: packing, saying goodbyes.
Checking her dad’s pillbox since he had a tendency to dump the entire bottle in there, randomly distributing them, instead of putting in one per day.
He wasn’t “a child,” he’d said. He could remember to take a stinking pill.
She thought of Birdie, and her heart ached. She needed stability, roots. People she could count on. It would hurt to walk away from that little girl.
She thought of Decker, and a yearning sprang from a source so deep, tears burned. They could try long-distance, but she already knew it wouldn’t work.
But then, the strangest sensation came over her. A rightness, a certainty.
And she knew there was no choice. “I can’t leave right now.
Wild West Days starts tomorrow, and I’m not bailing on Dad.
” Not to mention, he hadn’t even wanted to do it.
I forced it. “He’s doing better, but he’s not there yet.
I also haven’t found a general manager.” She couldn’t turn down this opportunity, though.
She needed a solution. “How about this? Until you sign the deal, I can work remotely. I’ll be on every drafting call.
Every diligence review. You know I can do this. ”
Her mom’s expression hardened—not angry, just resolute. “This transaction is highly confidential. The board wants the core team in person. I can’t have confidential materials downloaded over unsecured networks.”
“I’ll use a secure hotspot.” Obviously. Her mom was almost always right, so Willa rarely challenged it. It didn’t feel good to do it now.
Her mind darted to find holes in her argument—was she sounding stupid? Making a huge error in judgment?
“And when it drops during a board presentation?” her mom asked. “When the CEO asks a question, and there’s a lag? I won’t be embarrassed like that. These executives expect their lead associate to be in the room.”
The idea of embarrassing herself in front of major players nicked Willa’s ego. Still, she had to hold her ground. “We’re still in drafting and negotiations. I can lead that from anywhere.”
“The CEO wants his core team physically present. At this level, optics matter.”
“It’s 2026.” She felt boxed in, like the oxygen was in short supply. The panicky feeling made her palms sweat. “Half the world works remotely.”
“AgraTerra does not. And at this level, clients don’t tolerate uncertainty.” The words were calm and factual.
“You just said I’m the only one who can bridge the tech and cross-border regulatory issues.” She couldn’t let her mother see her weakness, so she shoved her shaking hand into her dress pocket. “Then trust me to manage it.”
Her mom stepped closer, lowering her voice as if sharing something confidential. “I trust your ability—you’re the best attorney I’ve ever seen. What I don’t trust is your divided attention.”
“My what?”
“You walked away from your own deal midstream.” Her tone said, “Who does that?”
“My dad nearly died. You’re damn right I walked away.”
“Let’s not exaggerate just to win an argument. Your withdrawal from a case you sourced required reallocation, and don’t pretend the client didn’t lose confidence. My firm’s reputation took a hit so you could play nursemaid to a grown man.”
The walls of the box blew open. “That man is my father. He’s the one who drove me to every playdate and came to every show, game, and presentation I ever had.
He braided my hair and wiped my tears. He’s the one who bought my first bra and box of tampons.
So don’t you dare make light of my relationship with him again.
I’m a damn good attorney, and you know I’d never walk away from a deal if it weren’t important.
My dad is the best man I know. I will not apologize for harming your ‘firm’s reputation’ because I chose to take care of him. ”
“Well, then,” her mom said. “I guess I have my answer.”
“What does that mean?”
“If you’re not willing to come with me now, I’ll assign the lead to someone who’s available.” Her mom brushed past her and walked out the door.
Fear had her following.
If someone else ran AgraTerra, they’d close it. They’d be in the pitch decks. They’d become a partner in the firm.
Not me.
It’ll set me back years.
This case would make her career. She had to run it.
“Mom.”
Any other time, her mom would’ve ignored a command. But Willa had never used such a harsh tone with her before. Her mom lowered the hand she’d raised to open the door. Slowly, she turned, defiance blazing in her eyes.
“You haven’t signed any contracts yet. When you do, let me know, and I’ll see where I am. If I can get away, I’ll come back immediately. You know I won’t let you down.”
Her mother gave no acknowledgment that her daughter had spoken. She turned back around, turned the knob, and left the room.
Willa joined her dad and Decker, all of them watching Elizabeth Barrett stride across the saloon.
“Everything okay?” her dad asked, eyes full of concern.
This man had sacrificed everything for her. If he knew her mom’s ultimatum, he’d demand she leave immediately.
It was the biggest risk of her life.
It could cost her everything she’d worked so hard for.
But she couldn’t leave her dad.
Without knowing a thing about what had just happened, Decker reached for her hand and gave it a supportive squeeze.
And let’s be honest, I’m sure as hell not ready to walk away from him.
Girls’ night out couldn’t have come at a better time.
Willa needed her friends. She might not get to see them often, but they were the smartest, most supportive women she knew.