Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 43239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 216(@200wpm)___ 173(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 216(@200wpm)___ 173(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
“She’s fine.” I decide not to agree with him on that too quickly.
“Why haven’t you sent me any pictures of this place?” I ask as he tosses me a beer.
“Because I’ve barely had a minute to breathe since college,” he says. “If I’m lucky, I get twenty minutes a week.”
“Understandable.”
He leads me past the porch and into a field.
“I googled this place while I was on the plane,” I say. “I couldn’t get any of the pictures to open, but I’m kind of glad about that. It makes one hell of a first impression, and I saw nothing but five-star reviews, praise, and—”
“We’re six months away from foreclosure and bankruptcy,” he interrupts.
“What?”
“And I owe the IRS four years in back taxes.” He sighs. “If I don’t get straight with them soon, they’ve threatened to take it.”
I stop walking.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “I didn’t call you here to help me lay off the staff on short notice or do anything like that. None of them know how bad things are right now anyway.”
A tractor towing a group of tourists rides by us with waving passengers.
Jackson waves back and tips his hat.
“Look,” I say. “I’ve got millions of dollars in great stocks and there are a shit ton of Wall Street guys that owe me, so if you need help in that department—”
“I would never ask another man for money.” He glares at me. “You know better than that.”
“I’m just saying.”
He crushes his beer can and leans against the fence.
“We need long-term solutions,” he says. “Partnerships. Investors. Contracts that’ll give us stability. And we’ve got one shot to land them all at an upcoming farm and agricultural conference.”
I nod.
I can see where he’s going now—exactly why he needs my help. Negotiating and being the best businessman at meetings is among my top specialties. I’ll nail any deal that’s put on the table, especially for Jackson.
“Since you’re so good at handling this type of thing, I figure you could coach my sister and make her the best person, too.”
“Absolutely. I’ll do my best to—Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I shake my head. “Coach? Who did you say?”
“Eliza,” he says, confirming her real name. “Coach her on how to fit in the elite circles you grew up in, so she can land us some much-needed business.”
“Why can’t you just tell me everything I need to know about this place and I’ll be your representative at the convention instead?”
“Bahahahaha!” He laughs so hard he chokes.
“Come on, I’m serious.”
“You couldn’t bullshit your way through the farmer vetting rounds if your life depended on it,” he says. “That’s when they get into real, technical questions—crop rotation cycles, seasonal irrigation, pH balancing, soil mapping. You’d be done in five minutes.”
He’s not wrong.
“Eliza knows all of that?” I ask.
“Like the back of her hand. She just doesn’t have the best... people skills.”
“She doesn’t have any people skills.”
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing.” I clear my throat. “I could give her a few books. She’ll catch on.”
“I’ve already given her fifty.”
“Has she tried reading any of them?”
“I think the last one ended up under a chicken coop.”
“I think they want some power-suited, elegant woman.” He ignores my blank stare. “And not... well, who we really are, even though none of those suit-and-tie guys would last for an hour out here.”
“In addition to that,” he continues, “I think she would benefit from someone who knows how to navigate their shark-infested world, you know?”
My mind stops processing his words. I’m still stuck on him asking me to help his sister.
His sexy-as-hell, smart-mouthed sister.
Fate must’ve been laughing at me all week because I’d planned to tell him I’d met a sexy Southern woman I couldn’t stop thinking about and that her accent sounded just like his, but shit...
There’s no way I’ll be able to focus around this woman for more than a few minutes at a time.
“I have some associates I’ve trained very well in coaching.” I cut him off with an alternative. “I can put you in contact with one of them instead.”
“I don’t know or trust them.” He arches a brow. “I need you to do it.”
“I’m not sure if I’ll have the time.”
“Didn’t you just tell me you had a super light summer schedule?”
Fuck. “Yeah, but the thing is—”
“You owe me, Harrison.” He looks at me. “You said I could always call in the favor whenever, wherever and you’d honor it, no matter what. Were you lying?”
“I meant every word,” I say, downing the rest of my beer. “When exactly would you need me to start?”
“Today.” He swallows. “And you’d probably need to take her back with you to New York and have her stay with you, too.”
What in the actual fuck…
“Why would I need to do that?” I ask.
“Because the big convention is in eight weeks, and it’s being held in the absolute worst place to hold an event for farmers.”