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“Hey,” she said. “How goes training?”
I huffed out a sigh and leaned against the wall beside her, crossing my arms over my chest. “Hank is weird. Everyone hates me. Haven’t gotten the hang of dressing appropriately. So yeah, it’s going great.”
“Aw, Lots,” Dana jutted her lower lip out, breaking out into a grin after a moment. “I’m sure it’ll calm down.”
“Yeah. I hope.”
“How’s the thing with Hunter?”
“Annoying,” I snorted. I still hadn’t told her about the more intimate details, and as far as she knew, I’d accepted his job offer with no strings attached. But there was no one else in the stable as far as I could tell, and I didn’t feel like holding it all back anymore. I needed to speak to someone. “He’s giving me forty-nine percent of the business, though, so I guess it’s a good deal.”
“He’s what?” she said, coughing as a tuft of hair flew from the horse.
“Yeah. We got into an argument over what to do about breeds moving forward, and when it got heated, he offered me forty-nine percent. But there’s a catch.” I laughed. The absurdity of it was amusing to me, even if I found him to be one of the most irritating men I’d ever met. “I have to pretend to be his girlfriend and involved in a serious relationship with him for the next six months.”
Dana turned on her bucket to face me, her eyes wide. The horse beside her huffed out a sigh. “Holy shit.”
“I know.”
“Does he know?” she asked, her voice a little quieter. “About your ex, I mean.”
I shook my head, dread filling my stomach with angry butterflies. “No. Not yet.”
“You should tell him.”
“And get fired?” I scoffed, pushing off the wall and taking a step toward her. “Hunter can still find a replacement for me right now. If I wait until Hank’s gone, it’ll make it harder for that to fuck everything up.”
The door to the stable opened, silencing us within a second. Hank heaved in a breath, his old age catching up to him, and looked me dead in the eye. “Hunter called. He wants you in his office.”
“The office here?”
“No. The office in town.”
————
I swear, Hunter took great joy in making me feel out of place because of what I wore. For once, a warning would have been nice.
The office he kept in Boulder was nicer than I had expected—clean, modern architecture without a scent of manure. People flitted about in suits, skirts and blouses, and there I was in jeans spattered with dried paint, an old, worn-out shirt and muck-covered boots, sitting alone in a pristine waiting room that I was making dirty by just being there.
And not to mention his summoning. I had my damned phone on me back in the stables. He could have just called. But no, he demanded my presence through Hank and then blanked when I tried to call him. He was testing my goddamned patience.
“Mr. Harris will see you now,” the woman behind the desk called, a forced smile on her face as she looked me up and down. “His office is just through that door.”
“Great. Thank you.”
Pushing my way through the door and down the hallway, I scanned each of the doors that branched from it. Fred Harris. Edward Harris. Holly Harris. Brody Hammersmith. Hunter Harris.
Not bothering to knock, I shoved Hunter’s door open.
He sat back in his office chair, an air of confidence from him that was becoming almost permanently irritating. He wore a suit, and by the looks of it, he’d shaved since I saw him three days ago. I preferred the stubble, personally. You don’t prefer anything, Lottie. He’s an asshole.
Oh, shit. Right.
“Nice of you to come appropriately dressed.”
I was going to kill him.
“Have a seat, Charlotte.” He motioned toward the chair opposite his desk, all smooth and shiny leather. I plopped myself down in it with enough force to show my annoyance. “How are things going at the ranch?”
