Page 68 of Dancing Struggles
She blows out a breath. “I need one.” She takes a deep swallow. “Before I kill him.”
I groan. “Don’t kill him.” I push the glass back and forth between my hands. “I just feel like all sorts of a fool. But a couple of days or even a night away, and I’ll be fine.”
The way I say it, I can almost believe it. Almost.
“And that letter?” She points her glass at me. “The one poking from your bag?”
“Alpine. I was taking it to him.” I set my glass down and stand. “Fuck them. They’re assholes who won’t quit.”
“Amen to that,” she says, getting up too.
“I need to grab a bag and go, but . . .” I take a breath and look at her. “I’ll take it to Leland when I get back.” Dakota goes to speak, but I stop her. “When I can be nothing but business with him. I’m the manager, this is my job.”
“This sounds big.”
“I think it might be. But as much as I hate Leland, he’s a Harvard-educated lawyer, and I get the feeling he’s exceptional at his job.”
Her eyes narrow. “You think we need exceptional.”
“Maybe.” I do. I take a breath. “Alpine said that BNK—Billy’s company—on behalf of them, are petitioning for the rights of the land.”
Chapter Twenty
Leland
Jesus fucking Christ. I want to kill her for judging me. I know that’s what she’s doing. My phone’s in my hand and her phone keeps ringing out to voice mail. I don’t even bother with a message.
Fuck that.
I need to get to her.
There’s that slim chance she didn’t see, but I don’t think so.
Right now, I’m debating either going after her now or giving her even more time. I’ve been out here a while, so maybe I need to get after her and sort this shit.
Why I care so much is a question I’m not really wanting to answer. Except I do. I care. Way too much.
“Leland!”
I close my eyes. Willa. The last person I want. And she’s sobbing. She reaches for me, and I side step.
Getting to Sarah is going to be harder than it should be.
“You’ve done enough damage.”
“But . . .”
“I’m not suing your father.” I give her a look of pure disgust that makes her cry harder. The woman’s thirty if she’s a day and she can damn well work like everyone else. Which is why her rich father no doubt cut her off.
I don’t care and I don’t have time for it.
When the town’s cab pulls up I pour the woman into it and send her on her way.
Goddamned Willa. I’d expected Sarah, not her. I need to go to her, talk. She’s a reasonable woman. Mostly.
I reach my truck, right when fucking Lawson turns up.
“Conley.”
