Page 84 of Impossible Love

What the fuck did I expect? She came here to do a job for her daddy, and she did a fucking bang-up job, while fucking my brains out.

Literally.

I throw the agreement to the bed and turn to leave.

“Hold up.” That’s Declan. He’s standing right behind me. “You can’t go off snorting fire, Cal. We need a plan. We need to turn it around, make the situation work for us.”

“Like that time in Somalia,” Special K says. “Remember the translator who was spying for the terrorist cell, offloading our info to the people who could inflict the most damage?”

I’m so sick of K’s SEAL mission metaphors that I’m about to slice him to shreds, but then I realize he may be right. I turn around again, already knowing who the terrorist is in this equation—dear old daddy Nigel Backlund. The translator is Victoria.

I bark out my question. “If we relinquished our lease a few days ago, could someone else have already snatched it up?”

Evander nods, his eyes widening.

“Can you figure out—”

“On it.” Evander clicks away at the laptop keyboard, then lets out a long whistle. “Well, fuck me.”

“Let me guess. Renaissance Empowered.”

“One of their divisions, yes.”

“Hey,” Finn says. “Not everything is as it seems. There could be an alternative explanation. Victoria may not have done a damn thing to us.”

I laugh. I sound as bitter and angry as I feel.

“Here’s what we’re going to do.” Evander shuts the laptop and leans back on his stack of pillows, arms crossed over his chest. “Mention to Victoria in passing that the BLM deputy director just reached out to us after seeing the sudden one-eighty change in our longstanding agreement. Tell her they won’t finalize until we clarify.”

“But they’d never do that,” Declan says. “They don’t give a shit whose name is on the lease, as long as the money’s coming in.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Evander says. “It’s total bullshit.”

“If Victoria’s dirty, what are we looking for?” Finn asks.

“Any echo of this bullshit,” I say. “She’ll tell her daddy and it will get back to us. And it’s all tied up in a neat little bow.”

Of betrayal.

“This is a closed-system experiment,” Evander cautions. “No one can say anything to anyone except Cal, who tells only Victoria. That way we’ll know for sure. Understood?”

We understand.

I leave Evander’s, but I’m not ready to go back to my place. My head is spinning, and I don’t trust myself to remain calm. The same set of facts keeps cycling through my brain: I'm a grown-ass man. I'm a Navy SEAL. I'm CEO of a billion-dollar corporation. But a beautiful woman in a pair of high heels shows up and I lose my fucking mind? I completely forget my priorities?

How have I let this happen?

It doesn’t matter now. It’s happened. I let it happen. It’s my mess, and now it’s my job to clean it up.

I walk. I find myself on the dock, staring at the lake water until I need to move again. I breathe deep, getting enough oxygen in me to clear my head. I walk out to the south paddocks and then the west pasture. Eventually, I wander into the barn. As I continue down the center aisle, I see a light on in the office. The door is cracked open enough that I see Arlo at this desk, on the phone. He catches my eye and abruptly hangs up, then motions for me to come in.

“Didn’t mean to disturb you,” I say.

“Don’t be ridiculous. What brings you down here? Please, sit.”

It’s a mess in here. Arlo has never been much of a housekeeper.

“Everything okay, Cal?”

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