“Wild Bull Ranch,” he says, flashing a picture on his screen. “I’ll call them when I’m done with Scarlett. But we’ve got to get out of this before we can sign with them.”
“Please, Beau. Just make it happen.”
He nods but chews the inside of his cheek—his tell when he thinks I’m being a dipshit but does what I want anyway because, technically, I sign his paychecks.
“Consider it done,” he says, then pauses. “You gonna be okay here until I get back?”
“I’m not a toddler,” I grumble, tossing my phone charger in the suitcase.
“You throw tantrums like one.”
I shake my head and give him my back as I walk into the bathroom to collect my stuff. “Funny.”
“I like to think so. I’ll take it as a compliment.”
I shove my toiletry bag into the suitcase. “I guess one of us has to be.”
How many times has Beau’s humor kept me from spiraling? It’s his defense mechanism—thank God. Especially since mine is shutting down so hard I self-isolate.
I glance at him.
He chuckles, stepping back and raising both hands. “I’m going…”
“Hey,” I call, and he turns back to me. “Thanks.” I hope he sees I mean it.
“Yeah, yeah. Always doing your dirty work.” He nods before opening the door to the hallway. “Hey, DeSoto, you make sure no chickens come pecking at our guy, will ya?”
The door shuts before I catch DeSoto’s reply, but I’m sure it was just as sarcastic.
I sit on the edge of the bed and drag my hands down my face.
I’m making the right decision. Nothing good will come from me staying here. Not for me and sure as hell not for Romy.
Chapter Six
Romy
My family has taken this whole Zander Shaw surprise way too far.
They scheduled a board meeting that everyone else was already in on to talk about the logistics and special requests from Zander’s team while they film on the ranch. Normally, nothing new gets approved without a majority vote, but this time, they signed the contract behind my back, assuming I’d be thrilled. And I would have been thrilled. Zander Shaw filming here? Before everything went down, I’d have popped a bottle of champagne and probably made myself his damn welcoming committee.
That was before he kicked me to the curb and those two pink lines showed up.
A foot nudges me under the table, and I snap back to reality, straightening in my chair as a dozen sets of eyes turn toward me.
Thanks, big sis.
“Sorry, what?”
“What’s going on with you?” Mom asks, her brow furrowing. “You’ve been off all day.”
“Nothing. Just… got a wedding on my mind.”
The fake one Zander’s about to film. The one that will never be my life.
Scarlett leans back in her chair. “I was saying how The Knotted Barn was the most interesting location to Zander when I sent them the pics and videos. He sees it as the focal point—the heart of the video. He wants to keep circling back to it with flashes of the rest of the ranch.”
“Okay.” My voice is flat and emotionless.
