Page 36 of Holiday Hire

Phoebe

Several Days Later

"Where are you, Phoebe?" Lance demands for the fifth time.

"Now you want to know?" I question, pissed off. I've not heard from him since the night I returned to California.

As if it's normal to disappear for days, he claims, "I told you I was busy."

Enraged and hurt, I snap, "Busy! For how many days? Let's be real. You haven't thought about me once. Now that you've sobered up and I'm not there, you want to know where I'm at?"

He groans. "Stop being dramatic. I went out and had things to do. Now, stop playing games. Tell me where you're hiding out."

I shake my head, pacing my room. "I told you I'm in Texas. I accepted a new job."

"Yeah, right."

Infuriated, I snarl, "What do you mean, 'yeah, right'?"

He scoffs. "Why the hell would you go to Texas and leave California? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

A wave of anger crashes in my stomach. "There's nothing wrong with Texas."

He snorts, claiming, "There's nowhere better than California. Anyone even considering leaving is a fool."

I run my hand through my hair, glancing out the window. It's a nice, sunny day. The air turned crisp a few days ago, but it's still decent weather. And I'd rather be outside than having this conversation that is going nowhere. So I state, "I have to go, Lance."

"Wait," he cries out.

I pause, my heart pounding hard.

He lowers his voice, and it tugs at my heart, just like it always does when he uses that tone. He says, "Phoebe, where are you? Come on, don't play games. I miss you."

I close my eyes, sighing. He always does this. He messes up and then professes his feelings for me. Whenever he does, I cave and let whatever he's done get buried in a grave of disappointment.

He's not going to manipulate me this time.

He disappeared for days!

He repeats, "Phoebe, where are you?"

"I told you, I'm in Texas," I say, softer, hating how he can make my tone lose its edge.

"Where?"

"At the Cartwright Ranch."

A moment of silence falls between us. Lance finally mutters, "The Cartwrights?"

"Yes," I confirm.

"Why are you at the Cartwrights' Ranch?" he questions, adding, "You know nothing about country living."

I don't know why his comment offends me. It's true; I know more about oceans and mountain life than this one. But Lance's way of saying it makes me think I can't figure this out, but I can. I know I can. I've been on the ranch for the past few days, and there isn't anything I don't like about it.

So I reply, "I told you I have a job."

"What kind of job?" he pushes.

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