Page 90 of Impossible Love

“Where?”

“No idea. He didn’t tell anyone where he was headed.”

I go to the walk-in closet and start throwing stuff into my suitcases, wondering if I might be able to convince Declan to fly me back in the StellaR Tech jet. If he were part of the private investigator thing, of course he won’t.

“Just find me another plane or a rental car or a train ticket or, hell, I’ll roller skate back to San Diego if I have to.” I continue dumping clothes into my bags. “What else did these men ask you? What did you tell them? Did they threaten you in any way?”

“No, they weren’t threatening, just pushy. I told them exactly nothing, but they kept on asking questions. Like, what was her reaction when she saw Sulfur Springs? What was her approach to the BLM meeting? Once Yosemite Ranch dropped their claim, did she ask you to file the new lease agreement between BLM and Renaissance Empowered?”

The pair of shoes I held in my hand thudded to the floor. “What the fuck was that last part?”

“I know, right? What are they even talking about? I never saw any lease between the Bureau of Land Management and Renaissance. The research we got never mentioned anything at all about Yosemite leasing land.”

“Millicent, this… I have no idea what… Let me start over.” I rake my fingers through my hair and try to stay calm. I have to focus. “I was sent out here without any information about a lease. I was asked to negotiate a new contract after the brother who handles that sort of thing was injured.”

“Got you.”

“I did exactly as I was asked, only I got better terms for the MacLaines. That sucker was negotiated, signed off on, and sent for processing. What the hell do they mean by Renaissance having a lease? We don’t have a lease!”

“I don’t know. I thought you could make sense of it.”

“I can’t.”

I thank Millicent and tell her I’ll call if I need help getting to the bottom of this mess. Then I call my father. He doesn’t pick up.

My head throbs. My chest hurts. So, is this why Cal’s acting like such an asshole? He thinks I did something to botch Yosemite’s land lease? That’s how little trust he has in me?

How little he thinks of me?

I finish packing. I roll my suitcases out the front door and leave them on the porch. When I step back inside, Sarah and Ripley are sitting side by side, ears perked, their soft brown eyes puzzled. “Ah, I know. This sucks, and I wish it didn’t have to be this way.” I kneel down in front of them and pull their fuzzy heads close to me.

Maybe when I get home I’ll think about getting a dog. Or a cat. Maybe a fish.

I hole up in the guest room for hours, working through a rotten headache to figure out what happened with the contract. I call my father—no answer. I review my notes. I review the terms. I review the final version I sent for processing. Nowhere is there mention of Yosemite dropping their claim to the leased land or Renaissance picking it up.

Of course not.

I call my father again. No answer. I leave him a message that leaves little to the imagination. “You need to tell me what’s going on with the Yosemite BLM land. Right now.”

I hear the door to the back deck slide open. I run out into the great room to see Cal kicking off his boots and taking off his hat. It looks as if he’s been out riding the range, or whatever it is they do around here.

“You have a lot of nerve, Cal.”

He turns slowly, then wipes his face with a shirtsleeve. It creates a clean streak on his cheek. I’d probably find it charming if I didn’t hate him at the moment. “Spare me,” he snarls, heading into the kitchen. He grabs a big glass from the cabinet, fills it with water from the tap, and starts chugging.

Before he’s done, I’m right next to him, my hands balled in fists at my sides. “For some reason, you thought it was okay to spy on me?”

He shrugs. “Would have saved everyone a lot of grief if I’d done it at the start, am I right?”

“You sent private eyes to the home of my assistant! In what world is that acceptable?”

His lips curl into a sneer. “Your world, baby. The world of acquisitions and mergers and vulture capitalists.”

“It’s venture capitalists.”

“Not when you and your daddy are involved.”

He sets the glass on the counter and turns to go. I grab his arm. “Don’t you dare walk away. You had no right to spy on me or the people who work for me. That’s low.”

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