Page 52 of Taming the Billionaire Cowboy
I shut the front door behind me, already grinning. “Pretty good, actually. How about you?”
“Not too bad. Hopefully about to be even better. Listen, that deal we were working on right before you left town?—”
“The one that fell through?” I sip my coffee.
“It’s back on the table.”
I let that sink in. “No shit.”
“We’re close, Oliver. Real close. I think they’ll sell this time, and I think you can make it happen. How soon can you be here?”
I hesitate, and he knows what it means. He knows me better than I’d like. “Do I have to do everything?” he asks. But he’s joking. I think.
I stare at the quiet street, caught between the life I lived for years and the one I’ve settled into now. I hadn’t planned on going back to Houston or to the office so soon, but this deal is huge. It’s the kind I’ve been waiting years to close.
“You still there?” he asks.
“Yeah. I’m here.”
“How soon?” Dave asks again.
“Today.” I close my eyes. I can feel the pull of it, the rush I didn’t want anymore, but can’t get away from, can’t ever let go of. “I’ll be back today.”
“Bring that cowboy hat of yours,” Dave says. “We might need it.”
I laugh, but there’s no air in my chest. “I’ll be there by noon.”
“Take care of yourself, Oliver. Seriously.” His voice softens, the same way it did when he sent me to the hospital, the same way it did when I first left the office, the same way it did when he knew I couldn’t handle it anymore. When I knew it too.
I hang up before I have a chance to change my mind. The thought of it, of losing this deal, makes me move faster than Ithought I could. I punch in another number, start making the arrangements to take me away from what I love most.
“Mr. Greer,” the woman at the charter service says. “I hope you are well.”
“I am, thank you,” I tell her. “I need a jet. I’m in Miralena, Texas, so as close as it can pick me up from here.”
“When?” she asks.
“As soon as you can get one. This morning.” It’s a big ask, booking a private jet last minute, but it’s the kind of thing you can do when you have as much clout and money as I do. And while I don’t usually like to flex, sometimes those things do come in handy.
“How many passengers?” she asks.
“Just me.” The words don’t feel right. They don’t feel right at all. I should saythree, should sayall of us, should sayme, Carly, and Bradley. But it’s just me. That’s how it’s always been.
“We have a Gulfstream, but it won’t be there until ten. It can pick you up at a private landing strip twenty miles outside of Miralena.”
“That’s fine,” I say. “Thanks.”
“Wonderful, sir. I will send you the address. Anything else?”
“That’s all. Thank you.”
I hang up, my hands vibrating with energy. Am I really ready to go back? Can I handle this?
Of course I can. What am I thinking? I had one panic attack; I didn’t fall apart at the seams. And Carly told me she will coverthings at the ranch whenever I’m out of town. This is what I hired her for.
Back in the kitchen, they’re plating the pancakes, discussing whether or not they should draw smiles on them with whipped cream.
Carly glances over her shoulder at me and smiles. “Good call?”
