Page 2 of Savage

Opal glances toward me with a knowing grin and excuses herself, nodding toward Clyde as she walks out the door. “I’ll let you two chat. Breakfast isn’t gonna cook itself.”

“There’s an elk fight most mornings,” I exhale. “You’ll have to forgive me. I’m a little out of sorts right now. Today has been terribly hectic already.” I’m hoping he catches my drift and excuses himself from the meeting, but he sets the cup of coffee on my desk and leans back in the chair in front of me with enough confidence for an entire ranch of people. All of that arrogance despite the filthy boots, the muddy jeans, and dirt-stained hands.

“I thought you big business types were always organized.” His tone is deep and rough, sending some kind of shiver through me I don’t understand.

“I am. I’m actually very, very organized. I have files for files. I color code everything. I journal about structure every morning.”

Why am I so insulted by a comment about organization?

“Maybe that’s the problem. You’ve got too many files.” He’s so blasé about his words that I can’t stand it. I mean, who does this guy think he is, coming into my office to insult my organizational style?

“There’s no problem. I don’t have too many files.”

“You said you were out of sorts.”

“Yeah, that means I’m off today, not unorganized.” I suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Some part of me wonders if this little back and forth is a tactic to get me frazzled before he launches into some random conversation about the business he knows nothing about. “I’m sorry. I’m a little confused what this meeting is about. The last time we spoke, I was clear about the security cameras. Your job as contractor is to keep building cabins. I don’t need you to worry about anything else.”

“I think a few trees and a taller fence would prove sufficient for privacy.”

“Trees?How are trees going to providesecurityfor my guests? I’m worried about more than the press. I’m trying to protect my client’s privacy. The security I’m having installed will help with that.”

He narrows his thick brows and leans forward as thoughI’mthe idiot and he’s the savant. “You’re providing an experience here, correct?”

I close my eyes and sigh, hoping he picks up on the dissatisfaction I’m having with this conversation. “Yes.”

“Okay, well, adding evergreens to the fence line will create a natural barrier to block photographers and whoever else might be lurking around.”

“Do you want to plant trees, Clyde? If it’s in the budget, go to town. I’m all for enhancing the beauty of the ranch.” I do believe we could use a few more trees on the west side of the lot to block press access, especially if we’re catering to higher-profile clientele. “That said, I’ll be moving forward with my plan for security, regardless.”

He shakes his head and lowers his tone as he says, “The security you’re talking about is an invasion of your workers’ privacy, and my men are refusing to work because of it.”

Of course this is happening. Why wouldn’t it be?“Why are your workers so worried about being recorded? What are they doing out there?”

“They’re a group of blue-collar men. They shit talk to pass the time. They don’t want to worry about how they’re perceived by some random third party. They’re hardworking, they’re fast, and they’re careful. Let them do their work in peace.”

Heat flushes through my body, and my pulse speeds. His team of men are finishing the final row of cabins. Cabins I spent way too much on. Cabins I need to fill immediately so I can keep this place afloat when I pay off my dad. “I’m not sure why I hired you if you can’t keep your men in line. If they don’t want to work, they can vacate the premises.”

Clyde grins and swipes his massive hand down over his beard. “You don’t have a lot of experience with this, do you?”

My shoulders tense and my blood boils at a temperature I didn’t know my body was capable of. “I’m sorry?”

“You’re in a small town, working with small-town people. If you don’t treat them right, they’ll quit. Then what?”

I don’t humor him with an answer. “Did I miss the part whereyouhadyourMBA? Because I have two of them. One in business and the other specializing in marketing.” I tilt my head to the side and cross my arms over my chest. “What’s yours in?”

“I’d never pay someone to teach me things I can learn by doing them, but good for you. That must have cost you a lot of money.”

Why am I suddenly feeling violent?Maybe it’s that every man I meet thinks they’re smarter than me, despite all the evidence to the contrary. A smile creeps up onto my face, and I step around my desk, staring at him. “If your people want to quit, they should quit. Will you be following them?”

“No way,” he says with a grin, standing from the chair to take a step toward me. “I love a good shit show. When you’vegot no one building your cabins, you’ll have plenty in the budget for trees. Guess I’ll start there.” He takes another step closer, hovering over me, the scent of cedar and pine on his skin.

Why does he smell so good?

Actually, no, he doesn’t smell good. He smells like the woods, and thewoodssmell good.

“You love a good shit show? Well, good, cause you’re about to get one.” I don’t know what that means. I don’t want any of this to be a shit show. I want him to go back to work, I want the guys to finish their job, and I want everyone I hired to respect the privacy of the clients involved here so I can make enough cash to pay off my father and be done with his overbearing bullshit.

The giant rolls his dark eyes and turns toward the door, giving me a full view of the package he carries with him as he twists. It’s pretty impressive. Like, really, really impressive.

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