Page 12 of Broken Player

Today was already starting off on the wrong foot, and I’d barely stepped out of bed yet. Fallen was more like it. Hauling myself up off the floor, I stepped into the bathroom and started prepping for the long day ahead.

An hour later, I met Quinn in the kitchen, filling a mug with black, steamy goodness. I wrapped my hands around the cup and inhaled the bitter scent.

“Look at you all dressed up. Where’re you off to today?” Quinn asked, looking me up and down appreciatively.

Sighing, I took another sip of my coffee before squaring my shoulders. “I’m driving into Dallas. I have an appointment at the bank this morning.”

Quinn’s eyebrows shot up. “What are you going to do?”

“Beg for a loan.”

He eyed me warily. “Do you think that’s going to help?”

“Probably not, but I have to try. I don’t have any other ideas, but I do have this presentation I stayed up putting together last night.” I patted the laptop bag I’d set on the counter next to me.

Quinn perked up. “Are you going to tell them about your ideas for streamlining the feed?”

Nodding, I finished my coffee and turned to rinse the mug. “Yep. I outlined it all in a quick PowerPoint. Hopefully, I’ll get them to listen,” I explained.

“Hopefully,” he agreed. “Do you want me to come with you?”

I appreciated how Quinn was always there for me, but I had to do this on my own. Shaking my head, I reached up and patted him on his broad shoulder before giving it a squeeze. “Thank you, but no. I’ve got to do this on my own. Besides, who’s going to start clearing out the pasture so we can put this plan in place if you come with me?”

He scoffed. “You know that can wait until tomorrow, Ry.”

“Not if we’re going to save this place, it can’t. We need to get it done.”

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. “Good luck. Text me as soon as you know anything.”

“I will,” I promised. I’d need all the luck I could get if I had a chance in hell at saving my family’s legacy.

“Ryan Knight?”A middle-aged woman stood before me, a pleasant smile on her face. I imagined she was the secretary of the man I’d come here to meet with today, but I didn’t want to assume.

“That’s me,” I confirmed before I stood from the faux leather chair I’d been in for the last forty-five minutes, unsticking my legs from the material and smoothing down my skirt. I tried not to let the irritation at their lack of respect for my time show on my face. Lifting my laptop bag, I slung it over my shoulder and followed her toward a set of imposing heavy wooden doors.

“I’m sorry for the delay. Mr. Rutherford’s prior appointment ran late,” she explained, but it did nothing to calm my nerves or squash my irritation.

“I’m sure he’s swamped,” I replied, maybe a little bit more condescending than I should have, but this guy obviouslythought his time was more important than mine. The secretary shot me a disapproving look before motioning for me to enter the office as she held open the heavy door. I mumbled athank youunder my breath before turning my attention to the man sitting behind the giant desk.

I blinked rapidly as I took in the man I’d be meeting with today, the man who held my family’s future in his overly soft hand. He was alotyounger than I’d been expecting, and a whole lot sexier, too.

His dirty blonde hair was longer on top, swept off his face, and a little to the side. He wore a button-down shirt that hugged his defined chest, and the sleeves were rolled up to show off his toned forearms. His tie matched his blue eyes and made them stand out, so the effect was striking. Based on the cocky smirk he wore, he knew it, too.

“Mrs. Knight?” he asked in a rich deep voice that dripped with a mix of professionalism and sexuality. It made me feel a little melty inside, which hadn’t happened since I’d heard a certain bassist sing to me as he played the guitar when we’d sneak off to the pond as kids.

I smiled brightly and stretched out my hand. “It’s Miss Knight.”

He brightened before sliding his soft palm into mine. I’d been right. His hand was so different from any man’s I’d ever touched before. I was used to leathery skin or calluses, but his hand was smoother than mine. I tried not to judge him too harshly for that.

“I’m Yates Rutherford. Please, have a seat,” he invited, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. As I settled into the hard seat and reached down to retrieve my laptop bag, he moved behind his desk and sat down.

“So, Rutherford? Like…” I lifted my hand and gestured vaguely around my surroundings. This was the biggest bankin Texas, possibly beyond that, and it was called Rutherford Financial.

He laughed. “Yeah, guilty as charged. Someday my father expects me to take over, but for now, I’m here learning the ropes.” I was surprised by how casual and down to earth he seemed. He looked pretentious, but he didn’t act like it.

“I don’t normally meet with loan applicants personally, but your application intrigued me,” he admitted.

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” I wondered what made my application special enough that he felt he needed to personally meet with me.

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