Page 1 of Rust and Stardust

Chapter 1

Lucas

Iwas single, stressed, and now I realized I was working for a company that was starting its descent into moral ambiguity.

“Well, that was the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard pitched in a board meeting,” I scoffed, giving my friend Logan a nudge as we stepped out of the giant conference room near the top floor of the Harvest Foods office. “Talk about a legal nightmare.”

“The boss's nepo son wants to steal from poor rural Texans…” Logan shook his head. “Maybe he should have become a politician instead of working for a corporation.”

“Anything to make another dollar,” I sighed as we headed down the hall back toward our shared office on the eastern side of the building.

Logan hummed in agreement. He was just as tired of all those stuffy suits as I was. When I’d gotten my master’s degree in marketing, I imagined using it to build small companies and bring better products and people into the world. But when a professor of mine lined me up with a job in New York City that would pay off my student debt in just a couple of years, I couldn’t say no. That was five years ago and there I was, still sitting in that small but cushycorner office overlooking Central Park and still paying off my student loans. It turned out living in New York was more expensive than I could’ve ever imagined. Sometimes I wondered if the view was the only reason I still came to work anymore. It would’ve been a lot cheaper to live somewhere else and make half as much money. But if I wanted to keep my apartment, I had to put on the suit every day.

We reached our office, and I slumped into my ergonomic chair, swiveling to face the sprawling cityscape beyond the floor to ceiling glass. Logan settled at his desk across from mine, loosening his tie with a frustrated tug.

“You know,” he said, his voice low and contemplative, “my uncle's got a ranch down in Sagebrush. Northern Texas. Nothing but rolling prairie and green grass for miles. And they’ve got some of the best barbecue in the world.”

I turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “Sagebrush? Sounds like the kind of place these corporate vultures would love to swoop down on.”

Logan's lips quirked into a half-smile. “Maybe. But it's also the kind of place where a man can breathe, you know? No skyscrapers, no traffic, no...this.” He gestured vaguely at our surroundings.

I nodded, considering what he was implying. “Do you ever wish?—”

“Already figuring out where to scout for our new line or recipes, huh?” a familiar voice chuckled from behind us. “That’s why I hired you two.”

Both of us turned to see the big boss stepping into our office. In a flash, we were out of our seats, giving him our full attention. The boss rarely came down to our office to see us. We got the corporate card every year for Christmas and a handsome bonus for our work, but talking to him face to face was nearly unheard of.

“We were just—” I began.

“No need to explain,” he said, cutting me off as he held up a hand. “I know you boys do good work and you make this company good money. It's that kind of ambition and loyalty that I need rightnow,” the boss continued, his tone growing serious. “I've got a special assignment for you two. Off the books.”

Logan and I exchanged a quick glance. This was unexpected.

“What kind of assignment, sir?” I asked cautiously.

The boss moved further into our office, closing the door behind him. “I need you to go to Sagebrush, Texas.”

My heart skipped a beat. So, he had overheard our conversation.

“There's a small country fair down there that’s famous for its food. At least ten different barbecue champions have come out of that county alone in the past thirty years,” he explained. “I need you two to go down there, pose as tourists, and scope it out. And once you’ve eaten the food, send me the recipe.” He glanced over at Logan. “Pretty opportune timing, considering you have family there.”

I felt a knot forming in my stomach. This was exactly the kind of corporate vulture behavior we'd just been criticizing.

“Sir… how are we supposed to get the recipes for their food?” Logan asked, sticking his neck out so I didn’t have to. “Barbecue champions keep that information under lock and key. They wouldn’t give it up even if Jesus himself asked for it.”

“Get creative,” he replied smoothly, his tone hinting at something much more sinister.

I cleared my throat nervously. “Are you… uh… asking us to steal recipes from people?”

“I’m simply saying that if I don’t have five recipes for our new southern picnic line next year on my desk by the end of the month, you two will be looking for new jobs.”

My stomach felt like it had turned to lead in an instant.

“What if we just bought the recipes?” Logan offered. “Rural Texans can’t be too picky about that kind of thing, right?”

“By all means,” the boss shrugged. “Spend your money however you want.”

“I meant?—”

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