Page 53 of Extreme Romancing in Idaho

She threw her hands in the air like she surrendered. “I don’t know if I can make a deal with the CDC.”

“How certain are you that Tony won’t sell?” I challenged.

Her laughter cut short, and she narrowed her eyes. “You and your company will stop bugging us if you can’t hack it? Like, never ever again?”

“Promise.” I didn’t falter.

“And you’ll still help me with Daniel?”

“Yes.” Bile rose in my throat with my short response. I choked it back down. By any means necessary. Focus on Texas Bros and my goals for the future. Even if the people I was helping along went together about as good as sardines and ice cream.

With one final glance at Lili, she firmly grasped my hand and shook it. “Then you—my useless farmhand—have a deal.”

Inside, I cheered. I was one summer away from everything I’d ever dreamed of. But Angie’s lack of hesitation in taking my deal castrated my excitement.

“Meet at the North field. Five a.m. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday. We don’t work weekends.”

“I do. And from now on, you do too.”

Working seven days a week didn’t scare me. I’d been employed since my mom took away my binky. If Angie wanted me gone, she’d have to try harder.

Still holding her hand firmly, I tugged her to me until our foreheads almost touched. “Bring it.”

Her answer was a simple grin so evil it could be on the poster for the horror filmSmile. A chill spread through my heart.

What had I gotten myself into?

Chapter 19

Remi

Poolballsclackedtogetherbehind me. Karaoke night was in full swing. The bar was packed with a ton of Swifties. Songs from her latest album were being belted into the microphone by far less than Emmy winning voices.

“Bro. If you scratch, you have to stay in the kitchen.” Chuck rubbed chalk on the tip of his pool stick. He leaned against the pool table next to Pedro, pointing and making comments in Spanish.

“Haven’t you ever played this before, amigo?” Pedro smoothed his mustache and scratched the side of his head.

He didn’t always come with us to the bar on our at least bi-weekly bro nights. His five kids and wife took up most of his free time.

Smoot waved his hand in front of him. “Yeah, I play by different rules, though.” He went to set the cue ball down, hesitated, then said, “I don’t see a kitchen on this table.”

All of us broke out into a round of drunken giggles. Except Blake’s were non-drunken. He’d ordered his usual Coke.

Chuck grabbed his beer and took a swig. “Dude. It’s behind this dot.” He pressed his finger into the pearl circle in line with the headstring.

“Oh. Yeah. I knew that.” Smoot adjusted his glasses, set his ball down, and took his shot. Bad move buddy. He’d make his shot, but … Smoot tapped the cue ball, sending it sailing. It ricocheted off the three-ball and into the side pocket.

I threw my scotch back. I needed to be drunker to survive this night. What did Angie see in him? More importantly, why had I agreed to hang out with him? “Sam!” I hollered across the counter and got the bartender’s attention. “Can I get another?”

He nodded but finished serving the mayor and his wife, plus all the friends I’d made from the farm store.

“Hey, Remi!” Agnus hollered while Mitch and Joe tipped their beers to me.

Sam set a full tumbler in front of me. “Rough night?”

I raised my scotch to my farm store friends and answered him, “An unexpected bend in the road, but I’ll get it figured out.” Tonight, Angie emerged the victor, or so she thought. If I could have picked this outcome, I would have. I had a clear path set before me to achieve all my goals. Yet, looking at Smoot fumble with his cue stick, I didn’t revel in the victory like usual.

---