Merry fucking almost Christmas to me.
CHAPTER 2
Zane
“What do you mean we haven’t had any applicants?” I stare at my little sister, Isabelle, like she’s grown another head.
She purses her lips and pushes her dark-rimmed glasses up her nose. “Are you actually surprised?”
I do my best to ignore the snark so I can get some clarification. “Not one?”
“Everyone this side of Alpine Falls, and beyond, knows your reputation by fault,” she says with a shrug like it should be obvious. “We love you, of course, but I’ve seen grizzly bears with a friendlier disposition.”
I scratch my bearded chin and glance over at my best friend, George, the local Sheriff. He’s slouched in one of the over-sized armchairs in the main office, watching Isabelle and my conversation back and forth like a tennis match. He takes a sip of his coffee and offers me a similar shrug to my sister's. It’s not often that either of them seem to be on the same page, except when it comes to me.
“Are you two for real?” I finally throw back.
“What did I do?” George holds his palms up in surrender.
“Don’t for one second try to blame this on us!” Isabelle all but yelps in my direction. “I’m just here for the holidays, I don’t see how I always get roped into cleaning up messes when it comes to our busiest time of the year.”
“Because you’re a Lawless,” I remind her, as if she doesn’t already know. “Born and bred on this very property, I might add. It’s in your best interest, for both of our futures, to help me try and keep this place running.”
“The place is running just fine,” George pipes up. And essentially it’s true, we’re short-staffed and business is booming.
The Lawless Christmas Tree Farm has been running for three generations. We also have an adjoining business known as the Lodge; luxury accommodation adjacent to the ski resort where my father, mother, and sister — when she’s home from college — work, along with several employees. I run the tree farm because lumberjacking is what I’m good at, plus I don’t really like people.
I keep glaring at George, and he takes another sip of his coffee. He offers me one of his shit-eating grins.
“Aren’t you here to help?” I ask.
“I thought I was,” he chuckles, running a hand through his dark hair. “But watching you two argue is much more entertaining.”
Isabelle places a hand on one hip and clucks at both of us. “Don’t blame this on me!” she huffs in George’s direction. “We both know the two of you have each other’s back no matter what. It’s also not my fault that you’re rude to everyone you meet, Z, let alone a potential employee. Ugh, you’re a freaking caveman!”
My brow furrows. Much the way anybody would when hearing something about themselves that’s not only true, but also not what you need brought to your attention, either.
I live and breathe the hundred acres we have in Alpine Falls, Wyoming. And I love this place as much as I love anythingon earth. Perhaps I am a little over-passionate when it comes to anyone coming into the family business and working so closely within a small team. I have an overseer who helps out all over the farm; Jed, but we all pull our weight here. My dad, Frank, manages the maintenance and care side of the business, from shearing to weeding and irrigation, pest control and management — you name it, Dad knows everything there is to know about looking after his trees. My mom, Sylvia, runs the office at the Lodge. She handles the marketing, payroll, scheduling and oversees the main administration duties from the accommodation side of things.
The Lodge keeps us all busy year round. Even in the off-season we offer discounted rates when the snow season is over. Watersports on the lake are the big draw card in the summer months; fishing, boating, canoeing, windsurfing, we have it all.
“I’mrude to everyone?” I finally retort, better late than never. I mean, it’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard in my life. “This is news to me.”
George chuckles again, which sounds more like a gag because he just took another mouthful of his coffee. He thumps himself in the chest with his fist to save from choking.
My forehead scrunches as I assess my best friend. He may be the local law enforcement by day, serving the good people of Alpine Falls with his dashing smile and quick wit, but on his days off he’s just George, my goof of a best friend who apparently agrees with my sister. Some wingman he is.
Isabelle rolls her eyes at me and points an accusatory finger. “Don’t even get me started, Zane Clarence Lawless! You know as well as I do how difficult it’s been for Mom now that Julie has retired, those are big shoes to fill. I’m doing the best I can while I’m out of school, but you’ve gotta help me out here.”
I chagrin at hearing my middle name, well,allmy names. I know everyone works hard around here, and the office managerretiring early because of hip surgery wasn’t on the cards. Now that we’re busier than ever, we need someone to help in the office at the farm. Iz can’t be in two places at once, and apparently she’d rather work with Mom than with me.
Lawless Farm is a year-round business because we ship our Blue Spruce and Cypress trees all over the country for ornamental use all times of the year. We also revolutionized regeneration in Wyoming; something we’re very proud of. Each year, families get to bring their trees back for replanting. The method requires a delicate hand, one I’ve learned to acquire.
We supply wholesale to a couple of major retailers, tripling our income this time of year, and supply direct to the public. “I know that, Isabelle. The business has seen astronomical growth this past year and a half, more than any of us expected. I’m sure we’ll get someone trained up in time for the rush.”
“Maybe I should do the interviews,” she sighs.
George and I both look at her. “Between college, dog-walking, gossiping, complaining and all that other woo-woo shit you do, you won’t have time before Christmas,” George helpfully puts in. I wondered how long it would take for him to throw a jibe her way. It wouldn’t be normal if the two of them weren’t bickering like little school kids.
