Page 29 of Rough
Laughing loudly, he grips my shoulder, which makes me want to cringe. “Damn, I’ve missed you. So, David. This is Betsy Harper, country girl extraordinaire. She’s fantastic, right?”
Thankfully, David isn’t stupid and recognizes Andy and I aren’t on the best of terms. “Yeah, right.” Clearing his throat, he dives into why he’s found himself wandering around on my land. “So, like I said, I’m David. I have my bachelor’s in public relations and I work specifically with people who are trending on social media. I saw you on the Ropin’ Ranchers’ page and thought we should chat.”
I blink at him. “The what?”
“He’s talking about the guys.” Andy tries to help me out.
Flicking my eyes to him, I ask coldly, “Why are you still here?”
“Bets…” he drags out, but I ignore his whining.
“You’re talkin’ about the guys? Why the hell are you callin’ them the Ropin’ Ranchers? That’s asinine.”
David looks unsure but pushes past my comment. “Well, either way. You’re trending pretty big right now and I wanted to come offer my services to help navigate what’s happening.There’s a lot of money to be found in this industry, especially when you’re popular. We only have a small window of time before you fall to the wayside.”
“Clyde told me about some viral shit with me in it, but I didn’t see it. That what you’re talkin’ about?”
“You haven’t seen the video?” Andy asks, appalled that I’m clueless.
Facing him, I plant my hands on my hips. “I swear to everythin’ that’s holy, if you don’t get off my property right now, I’m gonna call your brother and have him drag you outta here by your ear. You hearin’ me, Anderson Boyd? Get the hell outta here!”
As much as I can’t stand Andy Boyd, I adore his older brother, Henri, who just so happens to be our mayor. He’s older and can rein this asshole in with just a look. Henri was a lifesaver when I was dealing with Andy’s unsavory actions toward the end of our brief dating stint.
Shaking off the memories of that night, I resign myself to not giving him any more of my attention. Dropping my hand open, I waggle my fingers toward David. “Let me see the video.”
He pulls his phone out while Andy grumbles and walks to the end of my driveway. Seeing only one car in my drive, I assume they came together. I don’t care about that as long as he’s not on my property. He can stand in the road all day long if it makes him happy.
When the video plays on the screen, David apologizes quickly. “Sorry, let me turn up the volume.” He restarts it and one of my favorite country songs starts playing.
I watch as the screen flips between the guys, then me riding up on Zeus, followed by our argument over Remy’s farm and me walking away. My stomach sinks as the screen pans to each of their faces, although I don’t really see Billy’s under his hat, and there’s nothing but hatred and anger written all over them.
My stomach can only handle watching it once, so when it’s finished, I hand the phone back to David and do everything I can to hide my embarrassment.Shit, Clyde was right.Trina did everything she could to make me look awful, and hell, she fucking succeeded.
“It’s just a video. Not sure why it even matters,” I say, itching to run into my house and hide away.
This guy looks surprised at my reaction and does his best to convince me. “Well, it could mean a lot foryou. Sponsors go a long way with pulling in money for someone they see as a role model. It’ll help fund your farm—”
“Ranch,” I say, looking toward the field. I really have to get those boards stained before the storm comes in. It was silly to correct him for calling this a farm. I’ve always used the terms interchangeably, but I needed something to say.
Nodding his head, he continues. “Ranch. I apologize. Aside from that, people are loving you. You’ve got a massive following and support group already and they’re looking for your account, desperate to know more about you. They want to know why Rustic, Bill, and Wild have a feud with you.”
My eyes dart to his face. “What’d you call ‘em?”
“Their names in social media, their hashtags. RusticRomeo, BlushinBill, and Wildlife. That’s what they’ve always gone by, but once that video dropped Rustic’s last name, it didn’t take anyone long to figure out where you all live. I imagine they’ve got fans showing up over at the Landry farm, too. But I wanted to get here first and offer my services. I only want to help you, and myself, to be honest, before anyone else shows up.”
His explanation pulls me up short. “That’s so much more fucked up than anythin’ I’ve ever heard of. That family is dealin’ with a family loss right now. You all need to leave them alone!”
Imagining crowds showing up on Renee’s front lawn makes me want to puke, and I’m furious that Remy allowed this Trina bitch to make such a massive mistake.
“I can’t stop what’s happening over there, but I can help you,” he says, stepping closer.
I take a step away. “Look, I’m sure you’re a nice guy, but you can fuck right off with all of this. I don’t give a shit about videos or sponsors or songs or hashtags. I got work to do and people to…” I stall on my words. I only have one person right now, and that’s Renee. “You need to fuck right off.”
“Betsy, please listen to me. This could be everything for you. Don’t you want to see this place thrive? I can help you do that.” He’s pleading with me, but I’m already shaking my head.
“Nope. I want this place to be quiet and succeed with my own hands makin’ it into what it is. I don’t need this shit. Now, I’m gonna finish up my chores. I’ll kindly ask you to leave. It was nice meeting you, David Jensen. Please, don’t come back.”
With that, I turn my back on him and head into my home. I’ve got a few loads of laundry I need to get going before I head back out to stain those fence boards. Then I need to bring the cattle in for the evening. That’ll take over an hour by itself, but with Lucy, we can get it done before dark.
