Page 17 of Colt

Colton tilts his head. His voice is different when he says, “You know why.”

I sense an undercurrent of…something between Dale and his son. Dale told me all about his six kids on our preliminary call. I’d scrambled to keep up as I took copious notes.

Wallace Kids (oldest to youngest)

Colton—> second in command, foreman for 5 years

Beck—> short for Benjamin Becker, horse and cattle guy, foodie

Billie—> only girl, accountant, training to barrel race

Nash—> Irish twins with Mack, 11 months apart, horse guy

Mack—> interested in becoming contractor, v handy

Tate—> jack-of-all-trades, Paige’s favorite (she is matriarch of whole crew)

I loved how Dale bragged on Beck’s cooking skills and Billie’s knack for numbers. He said Colton was a “hard worker who loved his family more than anything.” Billie put it a bit more bluntly this morning when she said he was “tough” and “hella grumpy but for good reason.”

Now I’m wondering what that reason is.

But it’s not my place to pry. I’m here to rock this job, get Dale’s glowing recommendation, and figure out what the hell I wanna do with the rest of my life.

Who knows who I’ll meet while I’m here? Maybe a future boss. Future business partner.

Future personal partner.

College was the land of casual hookups. I thought I’d encounter some real boyfriend material at business school, but the dating scene there left a lot to be desired.

Now I’m in my mid-twenties, and I’ve never been in love. Well, not with someone who loved me back. I made the ill-advised decision to hook up on and off with a guy throughout my freshman and sophomore years of undergrad. He was still in love with his ex-girlfriend back home in Maine and told me as much. But being the naive little baby I was, I figured he’d eventually forget about her and think about me instead.

The sex was great. He looked hot in a sweater. He smelled like expensive cologne and bought me good beer. Back then, it was Coors Light, a big improvement over the Busch or Natty Ice we’d choke down at frat parties.

I fell head over heels in love. He must’ve sensed it, because he abruptly stopped responding to my texts and calls.

I cried a lot that semester.

Looking back, I was an idiot. But it did teach me an important lesson: You gotta live in reality when it comes to men. You can’t change a person, and you have to take everything at face value. Like Colton here—if he acts like a grumpy asshole, he is a grumpy asshole. If a guy tells you he only wants to hang out, he only wants to hang out. Period. No getting your hopes up. No magical thinking about fun sex leading to fun dates leading to love.

Problem is I really do want to fall in love. I’m just not sure where to find a guy who wants that too. Everyone I meet is no different from Mean Clint Eastwood here. Sure, maybe he’s good in bed. With hands like that, how could he not be?

But he’ll inevitably let me down. Hurt me.

“I really can’t take this on right now, Dad,” Colton says. “With my commitments at school⁠—”

“You don’t have a choice.” Dale runs a hand over his face. “I don’t want to hear another word about this, understood? Instead, I want you to show Lainey a good time today.” He glances at me. “Show her what the Wallaces are all about.”

Colton just stares at his dad for a full beat. “You’re really gonna make me do this.”

“Like I said, it’s your job. So yes.”

“You’re the perfect person for Lainey to shadow.” Billie plucks an invisible piece of lint off her shirt. “She’ll see a little bit of everything.”

“I don’t need to tell you that if you scare her off, we’re gonna have a real big problem, right?” Dale asks.

Part of me wants to interject with a protest. A plea to spare me this guy’s less-than-stellar company. Just the thought of getting in his way or pissing him off makes me anxious.

In my parents’ world, women never ever inconvenience men.