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)
This is an upgrade from my old stock-in-trade days on Wall Street, and I wouldn’t return to that for the world.
As I snap a picture of the signed contract, my phone buzzes with a call.
“This is Harrison Jones,” I say. “Why are you calling, and what do you need?”
“Hey, Harrison.” A deep Southern drawl fills my ear. “How are you these days?”
“Jackson? Jackson Hart?” I double-check the screen. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Doing real work. Something you still probably know nothing about.”
“I’d say I missed talking to you, but my life was better before this phone call.”
“I don’t miss you either.”
We both laugh.
“Please tell me you’re finally coming to New York,” I say, “so I can show you everything you’ve been missing.”
“Actually... the opposite. I need you to come here. To Eads River, Tennessee.”
Tennessee? “What the hell for?”
“It’s about that favor you owe me. From way back, remember?”
I could never forget…
That favor is the reason I have a career at all. The reason I’m not still flipping through job listings on LinkedIn.
“We can’t do this over the phone?” I ask. “Just spit it out and I’ll help in any way.”
“I could do that, but I don’t want to give you a chance to say no.”
I arch a brow. “How serious is this?”
“My family’s entire livelihood is on the line.”
“Say less.” I glance at my watch. “In that case, I’ll fly out tonight.”
“You will?”
“I’m taking my first summer vacation in years, so I’m free for six weeks.” I pause. “If it’s that urgent, give me the details now.”
“Well, alright then… Closest airports are Memphis and Nashville. I can cover the ticket.”
“I’ve got it.” I hold back from telling him I’d rather charter a jet. “I’ll text you my arrival info once it’s confirmed.”
“Thanks, Harrison.”
“Always.”
I pull up my preferred charter app, type in Eads River, Tennessee… and blink.
The town doesn’t allow air travel, and there’s an actual note about it:
We are never, EVER building an airstrip in our beautiful small town.
If your lazy ass can’t drive from another airport to get here, you don’t belong here.
If you try to start a petition about building a place for planes here, the sheriff will shoot you down.
Figuratively and LITERALLY.
We like our skies like we like our town: peaceful, quiet, simple.
Don’t like it? Don’t come.
I consider taking that last line as a sign to tell Jackson to fly to me instead.
But I owe him too much.
Nashville it is.
THREE (B)
HARRISON
Jackson
Let me know when you land. I sent my little sister to pick you up. She’ll meet you in baggage claim.
Istep off the plane and head toward arrivals.
I wasn’t planning to stay more than a night in this state, but Jackson convinced me to stick around for at least four by claiming he owned the “biggest and best luxury estate in the South.”
If it’s bullshit, I won’t say a word.
But I’ll know.
I walk past a long line of people holding name placards—scanning for my name, but there’s nothing.
After a few moments, I double back and stop when I see a familiar face with fire-engine red hair.
Just like the last time I saw her, the woman who threw hot coffee at me in Manhattan is giving me a lethal stare from ten feet away.
There’s no name placard in her hand, and from the looks of things, she might work here...
“You have got to be kidding me,” she says, scowling. “Please tell me you didn’t fly all the way here just to harass me about your stained suit.”
“I barely remember meeting you,” I lie. “But I’m flattered to know that I’m still on your mind. What have you been thinking about me?”
“How much better the world would be if we could stitch your lips shut.”
“Want to hear what I think about your lips?”
“I’m surprised you even know what the word think means.”
That accent and sharp little drawl make me wish I could listen to her sass for hours.
“You have a very smart mouth, Miss Country Time,” I say.
“Six words no woman will ever say to you.” She narrows her eyes. “And that’s not my name.”
“Then tell me what is.” I grin. “Do you live here in Tennessee?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“There must be a reason we’re running into each other again,” I say. “I think it’s fate. I think—”
“Please, please eliminate the word think from your vocabulary.” She gives me one last dagger-glare and brushes past me.
I let her walk.
For now.
After more wandering, I assume Jackson’s sister might be waiting outside for me, so I step through the exit doors.
There’s no one out here except idle Uber drivers, so I return inside.
Miss Country Time is still there, still glaring at me as if that does anything.
Except turn me on...
I stare at her for a few more seconds before pulling out my phone and calling Jackson.
“That was fast, man,” he answers. “How was your flight?”