"What did you want to talk about, Janice?" I asked, my patience growing thin.
She got the hint and sat down on the rickety dining chair across from me. I couldn't get over how eerie it felt when she looked at me. Her eyes, her lips, her nose. I saw them every day when I looked in the mirror. But her face was thinner and her cheekbones more prominent. I wondered if she got those implanted after starting her new life.
"You love him," she said abruptly.
I blinked, taken aback.
"Excuse me?"
"You love him," she repeated. "And he clearly loves you. I could see it in how protective he was at the party."
I couldn't deny it. But there was no way in hell I was going to admit it, even if she already knew. I'd never give her a weakness to use against me.
"What's your point?" I snapped.
Janice had the nerve to look aghast at my hostility.
"My point is you should be with him," she replied in a clipped tone. "You're out there working like a dog for what? You're not happy. He makes you happy so forget this place and go be with him."
"How would you know?" I demanded, my voice rising. "How can you even act like you know anything about me?"
"Because you're my daughter," she said simply. "And I knew your father. I know he loved you in his own way but he never allowed you to figure out what made you happy."
"At least he stayed!" I said, feeling the hot rush of tears threatening to spill from my eyes. "He raised me by himself with no help even when he got sick again! He taught me what really mattered! And that's not fucking clothes or jewelry or any of that shit."
She sat like a statue while I used all of my remaining strength to keep myself together.
"But are you happy, Pepper? Even without money?"
I wheezed out an exasperated sigh, knowing she'd never listen and we'd just be going around in circles.
"Look, I know you don't really care," I said. "You wouldn't be here unless you wanted something and I'm not interested in whatever deal you have. So you need to leave."
“Pepper, I do care,” she insisted, breaking her cool facade for the first time. “I’ve always cared. I’ve laid awake at night for years thinking about you.”
Her lower lip trembled. "I fucked up badly, sweetheart. I know that. If I could go back and do it differently, I would in a heartbeat."
I took a deep, staggering breath.
"What exactly would you do differently?"
The question left my mouth before I could think about if I wanted to know the answer or not.
Janice's chin steadied. Her eyes were sharp and her voice was strong, proving she thought about this hundreds of times before.
"I would've taken you with me."
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
PEPPER
My heart crashed against my sternum.
I was completely taken aback by her answer.
She looked at me as though I should admire her. As if bringing me along in her daring escape would have been the brave, courageous move.
Instead, I wanted to vomit.
"You would have left Dad with this farm and his cancer and no one to help him?" I couldn't begin to understand her logic. "How about honoring your wedding vows and not running off with another man? What about for richer or poorer? In sickness and in health? Do any of those ring a fucking bell to you, Mom?"
"Pepper, you were too young to understand," she protested. "Too young for us to burden you with our issues. It wasn't that simple."
"Then explain it," I said, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "If you really care, tell me why you left in the first place."
Janice's eyes flashed at me.
"It will take some time to explain. Aren't you in a rush to get me out of here?"
"Just tell me the important parts," I said with an impatient wave of my hand.
She sighed deeply and lowered her gaze to her hands as she began telling me her side of the story.
"I loved your father very much," she began. "We were blissfully in love when we first got married. When I got pregnant with you, we were overjoyed once we found out."
Her eyes shut tightly for a moment and her hands, once folded and relaxed, balled into fists.
"But he soon became obsessed with you following in his footsteps," she went on. "Carrying on the legacy of your grandfather and great-grandfather, which was running this farm."
Janice opened her eyes and her hands, flattening her palms and fingers open on the table and looking at some point in space just beyond her fingertips.
"When we found out you were a girl, I hoped he would cool off with his notions of you taking over the family business. I asked him what if she didn't want to do farm work? What if she wanted to sip daintily out of tea cups and wear princess dresses?"
Her lip curled into a half smile at the memory before it faded away and her voice grew gruff, imitating Dad's.
"No daughter of mine is a goddamn princess, is what he told me."
Janice swallowed heavily, her eyes still focusing on some invisible point just beyond her fingers.
"I realized how important it was to him and I tried to be supportive. But something in my gut didn't feel right about it and as you got older, I found it harder to speak up against him." Her voice began to shake. "You started growing up and showing interests in other things like soccer, music, swimming, and dance. You came to us and asked about taking lessons or trying out for a team. And every time he told you no, my heart broke a little more for you."
Janice's eyes jerked up to mine and I realized for the first time I was entranced by her story. The memories played along in my head while she spoke, like she was narrating the documentary of my young life.
I never thought about them until now. He kept me busy, kept me working so that my mind would never wander.
"Do you remember what happened when you were thirteen?"
Her question cut through the air like a knife. I shook my head, suddenly aware that I was trembling. I was almost afraid of the answer.
"A boy asked you out for the first time," she said softly, barely above a whisper. "To the eighth-grade dance."
Fragmented memories flashed through my mind like broken shards of glass. They shone brightly and gave me small pieces of details but I couldn't piece the whole picture together.
"I had talked to you about him," I said in a dazed voice.
She nodded.
"You had a crush on him for the whole school year," she said, a slight smile returning to her face. "And you were convinced that he never noticed you. Do you remember his name?"
"Andrew." The name rolled off my tongue effortlessly like I had never forgotten it. "Andrew Whittaker."
Mom's smile grew wider. "Do you know what ever happened to him?"
I shrugged. "Went to college and got the hell out of Cloverville probably, like the rest of my graduating class."
The jagged pieces were starting to fit together but the picture still wasn't complete.
"So what happened?" I pressed.
Mom's grin faded as her attention snapped back to the present.
"Well, you asked if you could go to the dance with Andrew. Your dad said no of course and you were devastated. I tried to make him change his mind but doing so was always like poking a wasp's nest with a stick."
More memories came to the forefront of my mind, gluing the pieces together. Auditory ones rather than visual. The muffled sounds of shouting voices behind doors and walls as I pulled blankets and pillows over my head.
"We had our biggest fight ever after you went to bed," Mom continued, confirming what swirled around in my psyche. "He said the farm was your only future. Anything else was nothing but a distraction." Her hands balled into fists again as she went on with a cracking voice. "I told him that wasn't fair to you. You deserved to create your own future. I'll remember what he said next for the rest of my life."
She paused, her lips wobbling so much that I wondered if she would be able to speak at all.
"Mom?" I said, leaning forward.
I didn't even realize I stopped using her name until her eyes gazed at me warmly. For a moment, I felt a warmth grow in my chest as well.
"He said if there was a chance you'd choose something else besides taking over the farm, then I had to give him more children so we'd have someone that would."
Her eyes flashed with a familiar strength and coldness.
"I made an appointment to get my tubes tied the next day. When he found out--" She paused and swallowed once. "I came home from work to find that he changed the locks and threw all my stuff outside."
“What? No.”
Something in my brain skipped like a needle scratching over a record. That didn’t happen. It didn’t make sense. He adored Mom and practically worshipped the ground she walked on.
“You were at school,” she continued softly. “He refused to let me inside. I had no choice but to go somewhere else. I didn’t want you to see us, to see him treating me like that.”
“He told me you left,” I said, my voice empty and hollow. I had no idea what was real anymore. “He said you ran off with a rich guy.”
Mom inched her manicured fingertips across the table and I allowed her to touch my hand.
“I met and married Alfred Huxley not long after your dad divorced me,” she explained. “I was in a dark place and Hux saved me. I said yes out of desperation at first but I grew to love him. He’s been good to me and I owe him everything.”
The pieces began falling into place, but seeing the complete picture gave me no clarity. My emotions warred with each other. I didn't know what to feel.
“God, everything feels so... fucked!” I cried in exasperation, not realizing I tightened my fingers around hers until her other hand closed around mine.
“I don’t know what to believe,” I blubbered to the woman across the table from me. “Everything I felt so sure about with you and Dad feels like a lie now. I don’t know what’s real.”
“The past doesn’t really matter anymore,” she said, rubbing my hand reassuringly. “But I came here to tell you that you can still choose your future. You don’t have to believe my view or your father’s. But there is one man out there who wants you to be happy above all else, right?”
I took a deep, steadying breath as I pictured Reagan’s face. The face that brought me joy and comfort and wild, unrestrained excitement.
And I knew that even if every word she told me until that point was a lie, that part was at least true.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
REAGAN
"Thank you for meeting me on such short notice, Mr. Gonzalez."
I shook his hand, rough and weathered from years of work. His handshake felt firm and confident but I could still sense tremors of nervousness rising off him.
That didn't phase me, though. It was perfectly normal to be nervous for a job interview.
"It's no problem, Mr. Sells. I appreciate you seeing me right away."
Julian Gonzalez flashed a friendly smile and took the seat across from my desk. I studied everything about him in careful detail, from the suit he chose to wear to the way he folded his hands in his lap. I had a good feeling about him and my instincts were usually, no, always, correct. But I still had to make sure he was the right fit.
He was in his early forties with crow's feet around his eyes when he smiled. The suit he wore was at least two sizes too big on his lean frame and he twitched and pulled at it uncomfortably, which told me how rarely he wore it.
It wouldn't do to make him come all the way out to San Francisco for a quick office interview, so we sat in a space I rented in downtown Cloverville.
When I came back here this morning, my chest squeezed with longing as if I was finally returning home. And soon it would be home.
If she let me.
Despite the simple, bare surroundings, Mr. Gonzalez looked a bit intimidated and out of his element, especially when sitting across from me.
"So you have over twenty years of farm management experience?" I asked, skimming over his resume in front of me.
"That's correct, sir," he answered with a nervous smile. "I've worked with livestock and crop farms as well."
"How about organic produce?"
"Yes, definitely." He seemed to relax a little. "The last farm I managed in Fresno was a smaller scale organic produce operation."
"Why did you leave?"
"Well--"
"And you don't have to lie. 'Because it's fucking Fresno' is a perfectly acceptable answer."
He laughed for the first time and nodded.
"That may have had something to do with it. I definitely wanted to pursue better opportunities."
I smiled to myself as I looked further over his resume. I really liked this guy and knew Pepper would too, if she didn't point her shotgun at me for doing this in the first place.
"And you're bilingual?"
"Almost tri-lingual, actually," he said with a relaxed smirk. "While I've been job searching, I've also been practicing my Portuguese."
"Well, I like everything I'm seeing here so far, Julian." I leaned back in my seat. "Do you have any questions for me?"
"Yes, if you don't mind." His nervousness returned slightly. "In the past, I've always been interviewed directly at the farm and been able to walk through it. Never so... formally, like this, I guess."
"You're wondering what the hell you're doing here." I completed the thought for him and he nodded.
"We'll definitely walk you through the farm," I assured him, my heart leaping slightly at the thought of stepping foot on Pepper's land again. "But as my secretary mentioned on the phone, your employment contract will be through my company. Sage Farm won't be hiring you directly, I will."
"I see," he said cautiously. "May I ask what would the difference be?"
"Through my company, you'll be paid an extremely competitive salary that is locked in, no matter if the farm has a poor harvest season or not," I explained. "You'll also have health care and retirement benefits, paid vacation time, and stock options. When you'll need to hire extra hands, you'll have access to our HR department as well."
Julian's mouth dropped open and the color from his face drained as if he would faint. But he gripped the armrests of the chair and stayed upright.
"You're serious?" he breathed.
"Absolutely," I replied.
"But... why?" He blinked in disbelief. "No one gives farmers those kinds of benefits."
"Because I believe in investing in my employees," I said. "And you're one of the most experienced farm managers in the state." I paused for half a second. "And because the owner of Sage Farm, who would be your direct supervisor, is someone very dear to me."
"Mr. Sells, I don't know what to say." Julian quickly reeled in his excitement as he smoothed his hands over his pants. "I would still like to see the farm before I make my decision."
My heartbeat accelerated as I stood to my feet.
"Well let's take a drive, shall we? If you'll wait in the lobby, I'll call the owner and let her know we're coming."
"Yes, of course!"
Julian practically skipped out the door as I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Pepper's number.
It rang once. Twice.
My pulse sped up with every ring. I hadn't attempted to call her in a few days and didn't expect her to pick up. But I'd be heading over there whether she answered or not.
I'd make my case, the one solution I came up with that had any prayer's chance of working. And only she could tell me if it was the right move.
If she would have me again.
My office building in San Francisco? An earthquake could render it to rubble for all I cared. My helicopter? My boats? My cars? Fuck them all.
She was the only thing I wanted anymore.
"Hello?"
"Pepper," I said, startled at her voice in my ear. My heart pumped harder, sending blood straight to my dick at the memory of the last time I heard her voice.
"Hi,
Reagan," she said, sounding uneasy.
"Hey," I answered, my throat suddenly dry and lost for words. "How are you?"
"I'm okay, I think. How are you?"
"Surprised that you answered," I confessed.
"I'm surprised you called again," she replied.
"Well, it didn't seem like you wanted to talk to me for a while. Thought I'd leave you alone before trying again."
She paused on the line and I could picture her tucking her hair behind her ear.
"I was wondering if I should call you, honestly," she said. "I--"
The line scratched with some kind of static interference, making my heart go into overdrive as it drowned out her last words.
"Sorry, Pepper. I didn't catch that. Say again?"
I sounded desperate. I didn't care. I was desperate.
"I miss you."
My chest felt like it opened up and allowed my heart to soar. An unstoppable grin spread on my face.
"I miss you too," I replied.
I suddenly remembered Julian, probably wondering what the hell was taking so long. This reconnection didn't necessarily mean anything yet. The solution still needed to be carried out.
"Hey, I'm in town," I told her. "Could I come over in a bit? There's someone I want you to meet."
"Oh, okay. Sure."
She sounded disappointed. Was she hoping I'd come alone? Or that I was still conveniently far away?
"I'm on my way. See you soon."
I ended the call and practically sprinted out my office door, moving right past Julian who waited patiently on the lobby couch.
"Let's go!" I said, making a beeline for the garage and my Bentley SUV, Julien hot on my heels. His eyes widened as he carefully slid into the passenger seat.
"I've never even seen one of these cars in real life before," he muttered, looking around the interior in amazement.
"You want it?" I asked.
His head snapped toward me.
"You've got to be joking."
I shrugged as I drove out of the lot.
"Maybe just a little."
Cocked and Loaded: A Billionaire Romance (Small Town Bad Boys Book 4) Page 12
