Page 188 of Ironwood Ranch Cowboys

I grab my jacket. Because if Vivian Harlan wants to threaten me, I’d rather she do it to my face.

The Silver Bit smells like whiskey, old wood, and gossip.

I think the gossip might be strongest.

The lunch crowd buzzes around me as I step inside, conversations dipping for half a second before picking right back up again. I feel eyes on me.

Riley catches my eye from behind the bar, polishing a glass. “You okay?”

“Nope.”

His mouth twitches. “Private room’s in the back.”

Of course it is.

I move through the tavern, boots heavy against dark wooden floors, my pulse beating harder with every step toward the hallway.

The private dining room door is already open.

And there she is.

Vivian Harlan sits at the head of the table like she owns oxygen itself.

Elegant cream blouse, gold jewelry subtle enough to scream “expensive,” dark silver hair swept into a flawless twist that probably hasn’t moved since sunrise.

Beside her sits Tessa Grange.

Perfect posture. Perfect makeup. Perfectly stoic expression.

The sight of them together makes my stomach tighten. Predators travel in pairs sometimes, apparently.

Vivian smiles when she sees me. “Annie, thank you for coming.”

Every instinct I have tells me to leave immediately. Instead, I walk fully into the room and shut the door behind me myself.

If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly.

“You wanted to see me.”

Vivian gestures elegantly toward the empty chair across from her. “Sit.”

Tessa offers me a small nod. “Coffee?”

“I’d rather drink bleach, but thanks.”

That earns the faintest flicker of amusement from Tessa.

Vivian doesn’t react at all.

A server appears briefly, setting down water glasses before vanishing again like someone fleeing a crime scene.

Smart.

Vivian folds her hands neatly atop the table. “You’ve caused quite a disruption at Ironwood.”

The words are casual.

The tone isn’t.