Читать книгу Cowboy Strong - Stacy Finz - Страница 14

Chapter 5

Gina DeRose was a walking disaster. Like an eight on the Richter scale of calamities. While some men—like Sawyer’s two cousins—ran to women in trouble, he looked for the nearest exit. Unfortunately, in this case that would mean leaving his own house, which he’d actually considered the minute she’d gotten the news and subsequently blew up like a bottle rocket.

She’d hightailed it into his bedroom and for the last twenty minutes had been yelling at someone—maybe his mother—on the phone. From the kitchen, he tried to listen, but was having trouble following the conversation.

He’d give Gina credit, though. She’d rattled off a litany of curse words that he, a lauded wordsmith, would never have thought to string together in quite the way she had.

Impressive.

An entertainment magazine had gotten hold of her and Danny’s text messages and had plastered screenshots of them, including a picture of Danny’s dick, all over the internet.

Who the hell did that? Sawyer had sexted a time or two, or even three. Especially when he was away on assignment and in the throes of a new relationship. Who hadn’t? But why would anyone on God’s green earth commemorate his junk in a picture and then hit the send button?

Hey, here’s a shot of my penis. Wish you were here.

What Sawyer did know was that the dick pic and the texts, which he’d read and were pretty raunchy, weren’t going to play well with the ChefAid suits.

Not well at all.

Sawyer’s mother had her work cut out for her. And Gina would have to continue hiding here, coming in and out of his house like it was a revolving door. He wasn’t too thrilled about that, but at least he’d eat well.

He checked the oven to make sure the lamb wasn’t burning. The whole house smelled like Moroccan spices, which for some reason reminded him of Christmas. Maybe it was the cinnamon. The aroma made his mouth water and his stomach growl. He didn’t know whether the couscous was overcooking, but decided to leave it alone.

“Can you freaking believe this?” Gina came back into the kitchen, waving her phone in the air.

“I learned a long time ago to never put anything in writing that you didn’t want people to see. Privacy is a myth.”

She started to say something and seemed to reconsider. Then, because she had to have the last word, said, “You would know, being a professional bloodsucker.”

“According to those text messages, I’m not the only one who’s sucking, if you know what I mean.”

She flipped him off and turned to the stove. “The couscous is going to taste like mush.”

“Was that my mom on the phone?” He returned to his seat at the island.

She let out a breath. “My agent, my manager, my assistant. Cynthia Grossman, my publicist, who I’m about to fire.”

“What’d she do?”

“Nothing. That’s the problem.”

Sawyer laughed, though what was she supposed to do? The texts spoke for themselves. “How do you think they leaked out?”

“Obviously not from me.”

There was nothing obvious about it. Anyone who had access to her phone, which he assumed her staff did, could be the culprit, but he didn’t say anything. Surely someone in her position was smart enough to realize that. “So you think it came from Danny Clay, huh?”

“That would be…I have no idea. All I know is someone is out to get me.”

Sawyer had to keep from rolling his eyes. Wasn’t that just like a narcissist? She has an affair with another woman’s husband, yet someone was out to get her? What a piece of work.

“What?” She squinted her eyes at him.

“I didn’t say a word.”

“You don’t have to. I can hear your judgment from here.”

He stood up and leaned his hip against the counter. “Yeah, what am I thinking, then?”

“That I’m a terrible person. But you don’t know the first thing about me.”

“Nope.” Nor did he want to—too much to unpack, he thought, as his eyes did a covert slide down her body. “Hey, I’m staying in my lane. No judgment.” Which wasn’t altogether true.

“Good, because you don’t have a clue of what’s going on here.”

A lot of bumping and grinding, according to her texts. Hell, she’d sounded like a veritable sex machine.

Really, he didn’t know why he was even getting involved. He wrote about peoples’ problems for a living, he didn’t need to do it in his spare time. But something about her made him want to figure her out. She was like the Saturday New York Times crossword puzzle, a challenge. And there was nothing Sawyer loved more than a challenge. Even one who was a full-time pain in the ass.

They wound up eating her lamb tagine between phone calls and temper tantrums. He could only imagine how she must’ve reacted to the photo, which he’d finally gotten around to searching on the internet. It had been your typical paparazzi wide-lens beach shot. Grainy but clear enough to make out Gina and Danny having a good time. The photo wasn’t as salacious as the texts, but it was provocative enough to leave no doubt that the subjects were involved romantically.

Gina cleaned up her dishes and went home, leaving him enough leftovers to last the week. Not such a bad deal. He considered calling his mother and getting her take on Gina’s situation, but it would probably be hopeless. Dalton and Associates had a strict confidentiality policy when it came to their clients, as they should.

Instead, he went over the notes he’d taken from interviewing a woman who’d lived on the commune with Angie in New Mexico to see if he’d missed anything.

Five years ago, his sister, Angela, had dropped off the edge of the earth. Angie had always been unreliable, jumping on every cause known to mankind, joining up with fringe groups and traveling to remote areas, living a nomad’s life. High-risk? Maybe. But his sister lived by her own rules. It wasn’t uncommon for her to disappear for a while, then reemerge a few months later.

But not this time. This time, she’d completely ghosted them, which was so out of character for her that they’d assumed something terrible had happened.

He and his parents had filed missing person reports, hired private investigators, and offered large monetary rewards for any information that would unravel the mystery, without any success.

Then, a few months ago, Sawyer had gotten good information that Angie had been living on a commune in Taos, New Mexico. He continued to plumb the lead but so far had come up dry.

In June, he’d met a woman from the commune who was now living in Santa Fe. But she’d been reticent to talk. It was almost as if she was afraid of something or somebody. She’d been visibly uncomfortable throughout the entire interview, which told Sawyer she knew more than she was saying.

He was considering taking another stab at her, but had a sinking feeling it was hopeless.

He’d lost count of how many times he or his parents had dropped everything to hop on a plane or get in a car and chase down another fruitless tip.

“Hey,” came Jace’s voice from the bottom of the stairs. “Anyone home?”

“Come up.” Sawyer quickly flipped his reporter’s notebook closed. His cousins were of the opinion that Sawyer should stop turning his life upside down every time a private investigator found a trail to follow.

But it was his baby sister, for God’s sake.

A few seconds later, Jace joined Sawyer at the dining room table. “Damn, it smells good in here.”

“Chef Boyardee was over to cook.”

“Chef Boyardee is welcome at my house anytime,” Jace said while sniffing his way to the inside of Sawyer’s refrigerator. “This it?” He held up a covered glass dish with the leftover lamb.

“Yep. You want me to nuke some for you in the microwave?” Sawyer went into the kitchen and made Jace up a plate. “What’re you doing home so early?”

“That’s what I came to talk to you about. I’ve got an interview with what may be our first tenants. Two UC Davis grads who want to lease land to grow and start up a flower stand. Charlie’s sister hooked them up with us. You remember Allison?”

“The one who owns a nursery in Portland, right?” Jace nodded. “How much land do these Davis grads want?”

Jace stood sentry by the microwave as if hovering would make the food heat quicker. “A few acres.”

“A few acres would feed a cow and her calf for a season. That’s money in the bank.” In the scheme of things, 500 acres wasn’t all that much land to run a profitable cattle operation and to lease even a small parcel might not be cost-effective.

“I hear ya. We’ll definitely have to make it worth our while financially, otherwise it’s a lose-lose.”

“How much water will they need?” Water was as precious a commodity as land.

“Don’t know yet. These are questions we need to ask them. But I like that it’ll at least be agricultural. They’re hoping to do flowers for weddings and parties. Also sell to the public. I don’t know how that’ll work. Something else to ask them. But Charlie and Aubrey like the idea. I’m meeting with them in thirty minutes at the girls’ studio. Came by to see if you want to tag along. Cash is in Plumas County today at a cattlemen’s meeting.”

“Sure, I’ll go.” Sawyer had put in a solid three hours of work after they’d moved the herd and before Gina had shown up.

The microwave dinged and Sawyer took out the plate of lamb and couscous. He got out the chickpea salad, added a scoop, and slid it down the counter to Jace. “Bon appétit.”

Jace didn’t waste any time shoveling the food into his mouth. “Wow, this is fantastic,” he said around a mouthful.

“When was the last time you ate?”

“Lunch at the coffee shop.” Jace ate there at least five times a week. They all did. “I thought you didn’t like her.”

“Who, Gina?” Sawyer hitched his shoulders. “She feeds me. I don’t have to like her.”

Jace pointed his fork at Sawyer. “The question is, Why does she feed you?” And then the moron grinned like he was really onto something.

“It’s a trade for my kitchen. She doesn’t like hers and she doesn’t like me, either.” Apparently she liked Danny Clay’s dick, though. “And after today I’m pretty sure she’s going to be here forever.”

“Why’s that?” Jace got up, found a loaf of bread in the fridge, and sopped up some of the lamb sauce with a slice.

“Someone got ahold of her and that other celebrity chef’s sext messages and plastered them all over the internet. Let’s just say they’re better than anything you get on Pornhub.”

Jace’s brows winged up. “I suppose sex texts don’t jibe with FoodFlicks’ family-friendly image.”

“Yeah, not even close. I doubt her sponsors are too thrilled.”

“She can’t hide here forever.” Jace scraped his plate clean and stuck it in the dishwasher.

“Let’s hope not.” Though if Sawyer was being truly honest, he hadn’t altogether minded her company. She had a quick wit and was fun to spar with.

“You ready to go?”

They hiked across the field to Charlie and Aubrey’s old barn. Whether on foot or horseback, Sawyer never grew tired of the place. The sights and smells changed with the hours. He loved every inch of the land, its rugged hills and rolling pastures and the way they stretched out forever, making everything else seem small in comparison. Most of all, though, he loved the way his family’s history was steeped in these foothills.

He and Jace caught up with the creek, which wound its way through the property like a snake. Maybe tomorrow he’d sit by the water’s edge with his laptop and do a little writing outdoors, then take a dip. The most popular spot was a swimming hole next to Cash’s old cabin where the water was deep and the current calm.

But now with Gina living there he planned to avoid the place like the Ebola virus. As much as he appreciated dueling with her, he didn’t want to get sucked into her drama. Not like he had this afternoon. Sure, he’d brought some of it on himself by asking a lot of questions. He tried to chalk it up to the fact that he was a journalist, naturally inquisitive—but that wasn’t completely true.

For whatever reason he was drawn to her, which was an anomaly. While his parents were fixers, he’d never had a knight-in-shining-armor complex. In general, he steered clear of women with a lot of baggage.

“What are you so quiet about?” Jace asked as they got closer.

“Just working out a story in my head and trying to figure out the hook.”

There was a 1950 candy-apple red Chevrolet pickup parked next to the barn. Sawyer wasn’t an expert on classic cars, but someone had taken real good care of that baby.

Jace let out a long, low whistle “I like these girls already.”

They took a few minutes to admire the truck. Yep, the women had good taste in pickups, Sawyer would give them that. But he was still on the fence about leasing them land.

He and his cousins had to do something to support the ranch, but he wasn’t sure this was the answer. The idea of people traipsing in and out like it was a shopping mall didn’t sit well with him.

Then again, neither did losing their legacy.

Voices came from inside the barn. He and Jace climbed over a stack of lumber and circled a sawhorse to get through the entrance. The construction crew must’ve punched out for the day. Either that or the crew had taken a break so they could hold their meeting without the cacophony of buzz saws in the background.

Charlie and Aubrey were sitting with two young women on a pair of Charlie’s custom sofas in the showroom. Pretty girls, Sawyer thought, though they looked like teenagers. One was blonde, the other a brunette. Both dressed in jeans and graphic T-shirts. The brunette’s had a picture of a John Deere tractor and the words I’d rather be f-ing. Cute, Sawyer supposed, but not the most professional to wear on an interview.

Damn, I’m getting old.

“This is Ava and Winter.” Charlie made the introductions while Sawyer and Jace pulled over two chairs.

“Tell me what you have in mind,” Jace said. He’d never been one for small talk.

“We need about three acres to grow our flowers,” Ava said and went on to list the genus and species of about a dozen plants in Latin. For all Sawyer knew, they were roses and snapdragons. Both girls vibrated with so much enthusiasm about it that it made Sawyer dizzy. It was if they were talking about the Giants clinching the 2010 World Series after a fifty-six-year losing streak.

“And we’d need a building we could use as a shop,” Ava continued. “Nothing as big as this, of course.” She looked around the Refind showroom, which used to stable Grandpa Dalton’s horses.

Before the drought, when the cattle business was booming, he’d built a state-of-the-art barn where the horses currently lived and over time this one had gotten a little long in the tooth. The new construction and addition would return the old barn to its earlier splendor, even if it no longer housed Grandpa Dalton’s prized cutting horses.

But the rehab cost money, a fact Sawyer couldn’t lose sight of. Hence the meeting with the Powerpuff girls.

“Just big enough for a couple of refrigerator units, a workspace, and a small showroom,” Ava continued in a way that sounded more like an apology than a business transaction.

Sawyer supposed he and his cousins were expected to pay for the build-out. Between lumber, labor, electrical, and plumbing, it wouldn’t be cheap.

“What kind of rent are we talking about?” Sawyer asked.

Winter cleared her throat. “Uh, what were you thinking?”

Sawyer exchanged a glance with Jace and tried not to laugh. Fresh out of college and raring to go without a clue. But so damned earnest that Sawyer had to force himself to stay firm. Otherwise he’d give away the whole damn store.

“Let’s come back to that,” Jace said. “Right now, I’m more interested in your model and whether it fits in with our vision.”

“We want to basically be a farmers’ market for flowers,” Winter said. “Straight from the field to the consumer. We’re also planning to do floral arrangements, wreaths, that sort of thing, for weddings and special events and to sell from the shop.”

Charlie grinned proudly and Aubrey nodded her head as if the graduates had re-created the wheel.

“You have a business plan with your profit-and-loss projections?” Sawyer asked.

Both women looked at each other blankly.

“I could help them with that,” Charlie rushed in. “They’re farmers,” she said, trying to smooth over the girls’ lack of business acumen. But to be a successful farmer you had to have a strategy, not just a dream.

Jace flicked up the brim of his Stetson and flashed a gooey smile at Charlie while Sawyer threw up a little in his mouth. If Ava and Winter failed they wouldn’t be able to make their rent, which wasn’t going to help Dry Creek Ranch.

“We could have the plan to you by tomorrow,” Ava quickly volunteered, clearly unaware of how long it took to put together a comprehensive executive summary, market analysis, marketing plan, and sales strategy. Weeks, even months.

They were so gung ho it was hard to fault them for being in way over their heads.