Page 7 of My Totally Unfair Deal

I arch a brow. “How serious is this?”

“My family’s entire livelihood is on the line.”

“Say less.” I glance at my watch. “In that case, I’ll fly out tonight.”

“You will?”

“I’m taking my first summer vacation in years, so I’m free for six weeks.” I pause. “If it’s that urgent, give me the details now.”

“Well, alright then… Closest airports are Memphis and Nashville. I can cover the ticket.”

“I’ve got it.” I hold back from telling him I’d rather charter a jet. “I’ll text you my arrival info once it’s confirmed.”

“Thanks, Harrison.”

“Always.”

I pull up my preferred charter app, type inEads River, Tennessee… and blink.

The town doesn’t allow air travel, and there’s an actual note about it:

We are never, EVER building an airstrip in our beautiful small town.

If your lazy ass can’t drive from another airport to get here, you don’t belong here.

If you try to start a petition about building a place for planes here, the sheriff will shoot you down.

Figuratively and LITERALLY.

We like our skies like we like our town: peaceful, quiet, simple.

Don’t like it? Don’t come.

I consider taking that last line as a sign to tell Jackson to fly to me instead.

But I owe him too much.

Nashville it is.

THREE (B)

HARRISON

Jackson

Let me know when you land. I sent my little sister to pick you up. She’ll meet you in baggage claim.

Istep off the plane and head toward arrivals.

I wasn’t planning to stay more than a night in this state, but Jackson convinced me to stick around for at least four by claiming he owned the “biggest and best luxury estate in the South.”

If it’s bullshit, I won’t say a word.

But I’llknow.

I walk past a long line of people holding name placards—scanning for my name, but there’s nothing.

After a few moments, I double back and stop when I see a familiar face with fire-engine red hair.

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