Page 16 of Fearless Mountain Man

How’s it going?Frank, my client, had messaged. I had to tap on the notification to read the rest.Give me a call when you get time.

Give him a call? What could I say? Sorry Frank, I boinked the seller. Oh, and by the way, he’s not going to sell.

My career would be over. It was bad enough I’d have to return home without a sale—Carter had made it clear a sale wasn’t going to happen. But the fact that I’d actually gotten romantically involved with him? If anybody ever found out, my reputation as a real estate agent would be sunk.

You don’t have to go back.

That thought hit me as I climbed out of bed and started toward the closet. Of course, I had to go back. Vegas was where my job was. But my career was in the crapper anyway right now.

I pulled open the closet door and stared at the row of jackets and matching pants I’d brought. There were also five blouses, fresh from the dry cleaner. I didn’t even bring casual clothes, aside from the shorts and T-shirts I slept in.

With a sigh, I got ready and headed down to the restaurant. I’d grab some breakfast and then figure out what I was going to do. I didn’t like eating alone much, but I’d gotten used to it in the past couple of years.

But this morning, it seemed especially sucky. The server sat me down at a table in the corner, leaving me alone to look around. Nearby were families, a group of female friends, and a happy couple who couldn’t seem to take their eyes off each other.

One of the women at the table nearby made eye contact with me, and I quickly averted my gaze. I didn’t want anybody to think I was staring. I pretended an intense interest in the menu, even though breakfast was a buffet, so the menu just had drink options.

The woman who’d made eye contact with me suddenly stood. I assumed she was going to the buffet, but she rounded the table and started toward me, coming straight to the corner where I sat. And then she plopped down across from me.

“You’re a real estate agent,” she said, thrusting her hand out. “I’m Violet.”

How did she know what I did for a living? Had word gotten out this quickly? I’d made small talk with the woman at the front desk, and this was a small town, so maybe she told someone.

“Ana,” I said.

I reached out and slipped my hand into hers, giving her a professional handshake. She wore a flowy tunic and Capri pants, so I would guess she wasn’t on the job right now. If I had brought something casual, I probably would be wearing it today too.

“All those women over there—we work in real estate here in town,” Violet said. “I’m an agent. Those two are property managers. They help with vacation rentals. Are you in town to buy a property?”

Now it all made sense. If Violet was a local real estate agent, she might be hoping to get a cut of whatever deal I was about to make. Truth be told, I would have needed them if Carter hadn’t told me flat out he wasn’t going to sell.

“I have a client in Las Vegas who’s interested in Carter Powell’s empty lot.”

Her eyebrows arched. “He’s not going to sell.”

I smiled. “Yeah. I’ve learned that.”

She tilted her head. “Are you leaving, or are you sticking around?”

Good question. I should tell her I was leaving. That was what I was doing, right? I was packing up, hopping in my rental car, and heading to the airport. But I couldn’t do that unless I was sure I could change my flight. I wasn’t slated to leave until Sunday.

“He’s not going to sell, so what’s the point in staying, right?” I asked.

Violet stared at me. She seemed to be around my age, but there was something wise in those eyes of hers. And maybe I had the same thing. Only in her case, her wisdom related to this town—a town I knew absolutely nothing about.

“There’s something you should know about Seduction Summit,” she finally said. “For the past few years, women our age have come here from other places. They almost always stay. They meet one of these hot loggers, and, well, that’s all she wrote.”

I wasn’t sure how long I sat there and gaped at her. Was she for real? It was exactly what was happening to me. This was a normal thing?

“How many?” I asked.

“How many what?”

“Women who’ve moved here for loggers.”

She looked around. “A dozen, maybe more. If you go to the bakery downtown, it’s owned by women who came here for a baking competition and never left. They were part of a group of women who moved here because they fell for mountain men.”

Mountain man. That was what Carter was. He worked on the logging crew and lived in his cozy cabin all by himself.

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