Page 3 of Fall or Nothing

The moment his gaze landed on it, recognition came fast. “Ask me if I care. I never invited you here. You can leave now.”

He turned. Panic cut through the last of my composure.

“Please, Chris. You’re my only shot at this.” It came out stripped of everything I usually used as armor. “The lettersays my brothers can’t help me earn my inheritance. But my lawyer says you’re the technicality.Half-brother.”

He stopped. Sighed. Slowly, he faced me again. “What could you need my help for?”

“I need a job.” The words were foreign in my mouth, like I was borrowing someone else’s life. Which was the whole point. “I could work on one of your ranches.”

“You wouldn’t last a day out here. You sound too much like old money,” Chris scoffed. “Couldn’t shake that prep school accent if you tried.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I don’t have a choice.” I attempted to change my voice unsuccessfully. Not only did I have an accent too much like my mother’s high society influence, but we’d also lived for years in Nashville, home of Magnus Music’s headquarters. It resulted in an interesting blended sound unique to me that I refused to give up; while my brothers worked hard growing up to speak like everyone else.

I unfolded the page. “It says, ‘Prove you can exist without the spoils of riches… or forfeit everything. No money. No Magnus name. Live on your own for a minimum of thirty days. Deadline: midnight, December thirty-first.”

“Christ. How will you ever survive?” His eyes flicked past me to the Ferrari. “And you drovethathere to beg.”

“She’s a beauty. I saw the red paint job at the rental place and couldn’t resist. V8 engine, F1 steering wheel, Frau leather interior. She corners like… um…” My voice drifted off at his scowl. What an entitled snob I could be.

“Get out of here. Go get a job waiting tables or something.”

“I’ve tried finding a job all year to no avail. No, really, I have.” I caught his cocky smirk and the tilt of his head. Okay, so my attempts at finding employment were meager at best. Wasn’t there something a playboy could do?

“There’s one problem. We only hire military veterans at the Off-Duty ranches,” he pointed out.

“Perfect. I’m a veteran. I joined the Army Reserve out of college just to piss Dad off. Look, I don’t want special treatment, okay? I’m simply asking for a job. That’s all. I’ll work to meet the terms of this challenge for a month and be done, and we’ll never need to speak again if you don’t want to.”

“Chris, is everything okay?” A woman appeared on the porch, her voice a drawl, smooth as honey. Her blonde hair and makeup looked as if a team of professionals had just prepared her for a performance.

“This is Carter. Myhalf-brother,” he emphasized. “This is my wife, Nikki.”

“Oh. A Magnus?” Her eyes narrowed, voice instantly cold.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am. Don’t worry, I’m not like Hugh,” I quipped with a smile that typically charmed the ladies. She did not smile back, but side-eyed me.

I knew her history, about the time our oldest brother basically kidnapped her to force her into renewing her performing contract with Magnus Music. Chris saved her, and now she’s well-known and highly regarded as the famous country music star Nicoletta.

As Chris filled her in on the entire ordeal and what I was asking of him, she melted right in front of me with the sympathetic eyes of a mother to a child.

“I see. Well good luck, Carter.” Then she turned to Chris. “Honey, we need to get ready for the barn dance,” she urged.

“Barn dance?” I inquired.

“I’m backing the local sheriff for reelection. We’re having a gathering tonight at the ranch for it,” Chris said, taking the steps up to the broad front porch. He stood by her, no hint of an answer yet, as he pulled her into his side and kissed her temple.

He got the easy challenge from Dad—he only had to marry by a deadline to earn his inheritance. If it were me, one word and I would have had women in New York lined up around my penthouse building for a chance to be Mrs. Carter Magnus. But nope—Dad was forcingmeto live like a pauper for thirty days. Hardly seemed fair.

“Please, Chris, don’t make me beg,” I called.

“You are begging,” he pointed out.

“I realize that.”

“Everyone deserves a chance. As long as Hugh isn’t involved,” Nikki came to my rescue.

“I haven’t spoken to Hugh in months,” I assured her.

Chris pressed his lips together and glared at the letter in my hand. He kept me sweating a moment too long before deciding on a heavy sigh. “Fine. But we’ll keep the real reason you’re working between us, because if the other ranch hands find out what you’re up to… Let’s just say you’d better be working your ass off from the minute you start tomorrow, or they’ll give you shit. And if I hear you’re just messing around, I’ll send you packing so fast back to the city, you’ll be scraping for change in the subway. Do you understand?”