Page 42 of Still A Cowboy
“I know you didn’t,” Cal assured her.
His words steadied her, but Brent was still fuming. “Oh, sure. Of course he believes you. Must be nice.”
Willa turned to Brent, her voice sharp now. “I’m telling you, I didn’t post this. And I’m going to prove it.”
Brent’s glare burned, but before he could fireback, Delia appeared behind Willa, her hands on her hips and a wooden spoon in one hand. “What’s going on here? People are trying to digest sweet potatoes, you know.”
No one answered. The room was thick with tension, but Willa’s heart had already locked on the one thing that mattered—Cal believed her.
And she was going to figure out who was behind this.
Delia stepped forward and clapped her hands. “All right, everyone. Inside. We are not handling this circus on the doorstep like a bunch of caffeinated squirrels.”
Brent looked like he wanted to argue, but Delia’s sharp stare left him no room to protest. Lark and Sawyer exchanged glances, then reluctantly stepped in out of the rain.
Maeve crossed her arms and leveled Brent with a glare that would have made a grown man confess to crimes he didn’t commit. Her gaze drifted to his crotch, slow and pointed. Brent shifted on his feet and awkwardly scratched his leg like something had started itching.
Willa pressed her lips together, trying not to smirk.
Fia’s phone buzzed and she pulled it out quickly. “Oh my God,” she said, her eyes wide as she read the screen. “Someone just sent me the video. I’m betting half the town is watching it now.”
Before Willa could fully process that, Cal’sphone rang. He checked the caller ID and muttered, “It’s my office manager,” he said before he answered the call. “Hey, Darlene.”
His voice tightened as he listened. “Yeah. No, I saw it.”
Willa inched closer, catching bits of the conversation.
Darlene’s voice was loud enough for Willa to hear. “Why is your company tagged in this? I just got an alert, and now I’ve got an irate sponsor on the phone asking why your business is suddenly in bed—literally—with some revenge scandal.”
Cal rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know yet, but we’ll figure it out.”
Willa’s stomach dropped, a cold weight settling there. Cal’s business. His reputation. It was all tangled up in this. And someone had made sure of it.
Lark crossed her arms and gave Willa a tight, polished smile. “We’ll be in touch. You’ll be hearing from our lawyers.”
Sawyer’s jaw flexed. “We’re very good at punishing people for this sort of thing.”
Willa’s heart dropped, but she forced herself to stand tall. “I didn’t do this.”
Lark’s gaze drifted around the Seaglass, slow and pointed, as if mentally measuring the walls. “I hope you won’t lose this place in the lawsuit,” she said quietly, but her words landed like a grenade.
Brent straightened, smugness creeping back into his expression. “Oh, I’ll be suing, too. Hopeyou’ve got good insurance.”
Delia’s grip on her wooden spoon tightened, and Willa could see her mom’s nostrils flare. She was two seconds away from launching a verbal attack—or the spoon—at all three of them.
But Willa touched her arm, silently asking her to stand down.
Lark and Sawyer turned and walked out, not bothering to say goodbye. Brent hesitated at the door just long enough to shoot Willa a satisfied look before following them into the rain.
The door clicked shut.
Silence.
Willa’s stomach twisted as she turned toward Cal, her chest tightening with the weight of what had just dropped into their laps.
“They’re serious,” she whispered. “They could really try to take the Seaglass.”
Cal’s jaw was tight, his eyes still fixed on the door. “They could try, but that doesn’t mean they’ll win.”
