Page 13 of Hotshot Mogul

“Ahem.” I let her go. The guy next to us smirked, then ogled Anneliese.

Click. I shut her door and got behind the wheel. I drove down the three-mile stretch to my favorite spot. Our windows were rolled down. The wind gusted. Her beautiful blonde hair blew everywhere. “Ready?”

“Yes.” Her smile flipped a switch inside me. I hooked into my playlist then showed off. We sped up a dune, then down. Classic heavy metal blared from the radio, then segued into “All You Need is Love” by the Beatles. Odd choice for me, given I’ve avoided any whisper of love since Diana. Thanks to Dad, I knew every Beatles song they wrote. Some of them stuck.

“Yeoowee!” Anneliese shrieked. So, we did it again and again. Her cheeks were flushed. Sweat dampened her skin. She didn’t care about her hair being blown to hell or sweat ruining her makeup, if she wore any.

We made three more passes before I stopped. I pitched the canopy so the wind didn’t take it, then pulled out the chairs and the rest of the food. She sipped the sparkling white wine I poured into red plastic cups, since booze was not actually allowed in a state park.

“I like this, too,” she said, setting the glass down to finish her second PB & J, which I made myself. She devoured them like they were the first stadium hotdogs or soft serve ice cream cone, the best tasting things I could think of, she’d ever tasted. I wanted to know more about her.

“Tell me about your home, what it’s like there.” My stomach knotted as the animation left her face. She was hiding something. But, so was I. So, I let it go and switched subjects. “Or not. No worries. Do you like it here? How did it go at Callie’s last night?”

“Good. She’s very kind.”

I snort. Callie was a no-nonsense lady who didn’t take crap from anybody. She could smell bullshit, especially mine, a mile away. I was glad she liked Anneliese.

The wind gusts blew away the cloud cover. The sky was so vivid blue, it looked like it would crack if you came too close.

I refilled her glass, offered her a butter tart, and took one, too. The crust was light and flaky and the filling was sweet. “This is good,” she said.

“How long will you be here, in Oakdale?”

“Three more days, counting today.”

Panic raced up my spine. “Where will you go after?”

“Back home.”

I tried to keep calm. But I couldn’t. “Where is home?”

She looked scared. I’d pushed her too far, again. She stood and grabbed her suitcase of a purse. “All these hu…people. I’m going to get more names on the petition, see if anyone here lives in Oakdale.”

She turned back to me, searching my face. “Will you wait for me?”

Always. Did she think I could leave her? “Of course.”

I resisted the crazy urge to help her get names to save the very trees that I needed and wanted to cut down. She smiled and, just like that, my world was right. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do to see her smile at me like that—except save the damn trees.

She reached into her huge purse and pulled out a small horseshoe. What the hell? “I will leave this with you. It’s so heavy.”

I took it from her, confused as hell. “Why do you have this?”

Her cheeks flushed pink. She lowered her gaze, as if embarrassed. “It’s a belief. Those in my home use it for safety, protection from those who mean harm or stir up mischief.”

She left. I found a spot at the top of the hill where there was cell service and searched up “horseshoe.” Different cultures across the world believed an iron horseshoe could stop evil spirits. Why was she carrying it to protect herself? Why did she think I needed protection? I felt weird in my chest, like something I didn’t know was there had broken apart.

I scanned the crowd and found her with a group of guys my age. Fuck. They stared at her perfect body as she gestured with her hands. Her gestures lifted her breasts, which drew each guy’s lust-filled gaze.

I moved toward her like a deranged caveman. I dropped my hand to her shoulder and stood so I could see her profile. Yeah, assholes, she’s mine. “Will you sign this, then?” she asked the dude closest her. He took her clipboard and signed. “Sure, doll, anything you want.”

She flashed her hundred-watt smile to the guy next to him. “And you?”

He winked at her and took the clipboard. “Sure thing, babe. I’ll write my phone number here, too.” He smirked at me and turned back to her. “Call me if you need anything.”

All six signed what look like authentic signatures. They listed their addresses as Oakdale. The developer in me was nervous. These were all potential voters. This could sway the city commission.

This was so messed up. I wanted Anneliese to have whatever she wanted. But I had too much riding on this deal. I needed the part of the land where Anneliese’s damn trees stood. There was no other way.

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