Page 70 of Tee’d Up For Trouble

I’d been putting it off, hoping for some kind of miracle, but I knew I couldn’t avoid it any longer. The letter from the revenue office was sitting on my desk, glaring at me like a challenge.

I had tried to get a loan but the bank wasn’t any help.

“We’d love to help you, Dee,” Keegan Ahren, the loan officer, said kindly. “But given your financial history and the state of your business, we can’t approve a loan at this time.”

“Come on, Keegan, you know I’m good for it.”

“If this were my bank, I’d do it, you know that. But we got rules in place, Dee. Your father defaulted on two loans.”

“I paid them off,” I protested.

“Aye, but it put you on the blacklist when it comes to loans.”

There was a blacklist? The feckers!

Now, the only thing left was for me to beg the revenue people to give me a break. I drove to the county revenue office in Ennis, my stomach churning the whole way. The thought of walking in there, cap in hand, wasn’t exactly appealing, but I didn’t have a choice.

Thankfully, they didn’t make me wait. I was taken to an office, and the manager spoke nicely to me. When I explained why I was there, she nodded and took my details. She then typed on her computer and looked at her screen with concern. I could see that not all was well—hell, I knew that.

“I’d like to request an extension,” I said, forcing my voice to stay calm. “Or maybe set up a payment plan. I just need a little more time.”

She frowned, typing some more. “One moment, please.”

I sat staring at the worn tile floor, knowing that this was my last chance…my only. After this…it was over.

“Ms. Gallagher,” she finally said, looking up at me. “There’s no need for an extension. Your account is already settled.”

I blinked. “What?”

She turned the screen toward me, pointing at the glowing numbers. “Your taxes have been paid in full. As of three days ago.”

My stomach flipped. “That’s not possible. I didn’t?—”

She gave me a patient smile. “It’s been paid, Ms. Gallagher. There’s no balance owing.”

I left the office in a daze, my mind racing. The taxes were paid. Someone had paid them for me. And there was only one person who could’ve done it.

When I got back to the pub, I found Ronan leaning against the bar, chatting with Seamus.

“Dee,” Ronan said, straightening up when he saw me. “You look like you’re ready to kill a bear with your bare hands.”

“Where the feck is he?” I demanded, ignoring the curious looks from the regulars.

“Who?”

“You know who,” I snapped. “Jax. Where is he?”

Ronan raised an eyebrow, clearly fighting back a smirk. “He’s out at the farm. Probably fixing the barn door or something equally heroic.”

I glared at him, my heart pounding as I turned and stormed out.

I got into my old truck and drove to the farm. It was midday, and a blanket of clouds hid the sun. I parked and walked around, feeling a pang. I hadn’t been here in months, and now, I realized I missed the place, the familiar smells, and the way it made me remember the good things more than the bad appeared, at least for now.

I found Jax near the barn, holding a paintbrush and a smear of white paint on his forearm. He looked up when he saw me, his expression wary but calm.

“Dee. What do I owe this pleasure?” He set the brush down, looking as cocky as ever.

“You paid my taxes.” I crossed my arms.

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