Page 44 of Holiday Hire

She's still upset with me, and every time Willow tugs her across the rodeo to the riders' area, my gut churns.

At the end of the night, we get into the truck. She sits in the back with the boys, and Willow sits in the passenger seat. My mind races the entire drive home. We pull up to the ranch, and there's a sports car sitting outside the gate with its lights on.

I roll down the window, and ask the guard, "Who's in the sports car?"

He replies, "Guy says he's Phoebe's boyfriend from California. Name's Lance."

My insides tighten. I glance at Phoebe. "Are you expecting company?"

She shakes her head, answering, "No. I don't know what he's doing here."

I want to tell her to get rid of him, but she jumps out of the truck and goes to his vehicle before I can say more.

He gets out of his car, and I cringe. He looks as California as they come with blond, disheveled surfer hair. But it also has a preppy style to it. I figure he's a country club boy.

He towers over her, but he isn't as tall as me. He grabs her, hugging her so tight he lifts her off her feet.

I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white.

She protests, "Lance, put me down."

I get out of the truck just as my parents pull up.

Dad rolls down his window. "What's going on here?"

"Um... I... Uh..." Phoebe stammers, trying to find her words.

Lance strolls over to my dad's car and sticks his hand out. "I'm Phoebe's boyfriend, Lance. I hope it's okay that I flew out here to surprise her."

"Well, of course it is," Dad states, and I scowl at him, hating everything about this situation. The only thing I like is that Phoebe looks shocked and not entirely happy he's here.

Mom says, "Well, you'll have to stay the weekend. You can take the guesthouse so you two have your privacy."

I tense.

No. That isn't happening. She cannot stay with this douchebag.

I blurt out, "I'm sure he'd be more comfortable in a hotel."

Lance turns and studies me. "Sorry, who are you?"

I hate everything about this guy.

Who does he think he is, questioning me on my property?

Phoebe quickly interjects. "This is my boss, Alexander. His boys, Wilder and Ace, are the ones I take care of."

"Oh, nice to meet you." Lance offers me his hand, but he doesn't like me any more than I like him. I take it and squeeze as hard as I can.

His eyes widen. I hang on longer than I should, until I finally release it.

He pulls his hand back, scowling.

"Well, don't sit out here all night. Let's all get through the gates," Mom directs.

Phoebe grabs the truck door, and Lance questions, "You're not coming with me?"

She freezes, catches my eye, then turns toward him. She sighs. "Okay, I'll ride with you."

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