“There’s a storm coming,” my dad said gruffly, dragging me out of a sinful, unwanted, and unneeded fantasy back to real life. My dad wasn’t a man of many words and we weren’t close, even less so since I’d moved away, promising never to return. What was the old adage? Never say never? At least I’d have a chance to see my best friend while in town.
If I survived whatever my father needed.
I glanced out the windshield at the bright late morning sky, wincing when I did. The five-hour drive had turned into a full day and night, the unwanted adventure fraught with a flat tire, an extended stay in a tiny town that reminded me of some horror movie, and the worst margaritas this side of the Mississippi. At least there hadn’t been bedbugs.
And I’d been thankful my father hadn’t had his concept of the cavalry come bring me home.
Maybe using a lasso.
Exhausted and cranky, I was as close to snapping at my father as I’d been for years. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ve got big Bertha and the sun is currently out. I’m making good time. I should be at the ranch in a couple hours.”
If I didn’t stop at a bar first, which was still a decent option.
“You need to replace that goddamn truck like I’ve told you a hundred times. It doesn’t suit you or your position in town. Now, your mother is waiting for you. We have a lot to discuss, McKenzie.” When he used my given name, I knew I was in for one of his infamous lectures. My father certainly knew how to turn up the heat, reminding me of the family I’d come from.
Wealthy, influential, and in my mind, corrupt. Yeah, that wasn’t polite of me, but I was no dummy. I’d learned a long time ago that my father used whatever methods were necessary to get what he wanted in business and life.
While he’d started barking at me, on his initial call he’d almost used sweet talk in asking me to come home. That meant he was in some kind of legal trouble. Knowing my father, he could be involved in anything.
Including criminal activity.
That put me in a precarious position since I was a licensed attorney.
Any advice I offered my father would need to be tempered because I was a black and white kind of woman. The very reason I’d lost my job. I hadn’t been lured into sidestepping the law. Who knew attorney firms usually stretched the truth?
He ended the call abruptly as he always did. There was never time for chitchat. He rarely asked me about my life or my interests. His call had been out of the blue and like a fool, when he’d asked if I could take a few days off, I’d blurted out my woes.
I’d never hear the end of it. My brother would enjoy poking fun as well.
I didn’t have long to wait before my phone chimed again. With a scowl on my face, I glanced at the screen. Finally, something to smile about after the shitty few days I’d had. “Charmaine.”
“Oh, please, girlfriend. You know how I hate that name. Char ‘tis the name.”
We laughed like it was old times. I’d been working so much I hadn’t taken the time to see one of my best friends in far too long. “I’m glad to hear your voice.”
“Are you close?”
“Close enough to wish I hadn’t decided to come home.”
“Well, if push comes to shove, you can always stay with me.”
I thought about my father’s terse words. “Don’t make that offer. I might end up on your doorstep.”
“I have a guest bed. We can commiserate over horrible men.”
“Not you too,” I hissed.
“Well, at least you didn’t have a ring on your finger before you realized your man couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.”
“Oh, Jesus. Okay. Let me get settled and we’ll go out for drinks. Fair enough?”
“Call me.”
Hearing the crackle was clear indication the reception was about to be cut off by the mountains. At least that meant I was closer. “I’ll give you a call later.” When she didn’t answer, I glanced at the screen. Call failed. Perfect.
Groaning, I leaned over the steering wheel, glancing at the fuel gauge. Which was acting up. Why not have something else go wrong? Maybe my father was right in that I should have purchased a new vehicle years ago like my ex had advised me to do, but old Bertha had been with me since before college. I had a feeling one reason I hadn’t purchased something new was because my father thought the battered truck was beneath the family name, not just me.
The two of us powered on, heading down the two-lane road. Using the short cut I remembered, I should be able to cut out some time.
