needed it. Hell, he’d needed it.
***
Ryland stretched his legs out as much as he could. Plane rides always proved to be terribly uncomfortable for his large frame. As usual, he was anxious to get home. But he felt far more relaxed after this impromptu trip to Georgia than he had in a long time. It had done him some good to get out of town. But he still couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. Two reporters would be waiting for him, salivating at the mouth like ravenous wolves eying a defenseless rabbit. But it would be for the greater good. He’d spent enough time feeling sorry for himself, and it was time to make a change. He would just have to swallow his pride for a few days and let these people into his life a little bit.
“Mr. Quinn.” A bubbly blonde flight attendant with remarkably bright teeth stooped over him, giving him a good view of her ample bosom.
He fought the urge to roll his eyes and tell her that she was trying too hard. Instead he smiled politely. “Yes?”
“May I get you anything else before we land?”
“A whiskey, please.”
“Right away, Mr. Quinn,” she said with a wink and a flirtatious smile.
Ryland shook his head, pulled the paperback out of his jacket pocket, and continued where he’d left off, hoping the mystery he was reading would take his mind off what he was going to have to deal with when he got home. But soon, the woman reappeared and set his whiskey on his tray table with a napkin wrapped around the glass.
“Enjoy,” she said in a sultry tone of voice. “Let me know if there’s… anything …else I can do for you, Mr. Quinn.”
“Thanks,” he said without looking up from his book. He picked the glass up and took a long sip before setting it down again. The napkin fell away and Ryland noticed that something had been written on it.
Call me next time you’re in LA. 323 555 6709. Tammy.
Ryland groaned, running his hand over his face before crumpling the napkin into a ball. He couldn’t wait to get this week over with.
***
“This is Jose, he’s one of Ryland’s ranch hands,” Michael said as a slight man with a tan complexion entered the room. He looked to be around thirty.
“Pleased to meet you,” Macy said, smiling.
“It’s good to meet you too, miss,” Jose said politely, shaking her hand.
“How long have you worked for Ryland, Jose?” Lane asked.
“For almost a year, although I’ve known the guy for a long time. We grew up together back in Georgia.”
“Oh, really?” Lane said, jotting down notes. “Very interesting.”
Macy turned her attention to Michael when she heard him grunt and offered him a reassuring smile.
“Glad you could join us for supper tonight, Jose,” Michael said.
“Couldn’t say no when I found out Helen was making her world famous cherry pie for dessert,” Jose said, patting his belly and winking at Helen.
“Oh, hush, now,” she said, swatting at his shoulder as she passed behind him. “It’s just pie. Every old lady knows how to make pie.”
“It’s the best you’ll ever try,” Jose said to Macy, offering her a flirtatious smile. “I guarantee it.”
Macy laughed. “Well, I don’t doubt that. Every single thing we’ve eaten so far has been outstanding.”
“Hear that, Helen?” Jose yelled into the kitchen. “Everyone loves your food.” He turned back to Macy. “I told her she should open her own restaurant.”
“Jose, I thought I told you to hush. I’ve told you before, I don’t want a restaurant. I want to stay right here at this ranch and cook for you buffoons. You boys wouldn’t know how to feed yourselves even if you tried.”
Michael chuckled as he watched the bantering between Helen and Jose. Macy was intrigued by the dynamics between them. Having grown up in what would not be considered a typical family, she wondered if this was what it would have been like. When she was a kid she often daydreamed about having brothers and sisters to play with, aunts and uncles and cousins to
***
Ryland stretched his legs out as much as he could. Plane rides always proved to be terribly uncomfortable for his large frame. As usual, he was anxious to get home. But he felt far more relaxed after this impromptu trip to Georgia than he had in a long time. It had done him some good to get out of town. But he still couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. Two reporters would be waiting for him, salivating at the mouth like ravenous wolves eying a defenseless rabbit. But it would be for the greater good. He’d spent enough time feeling sorry for himself, and it was time to make a change. He would just have to swallow his pride for a few days and let these people into his life a little bit.
“Mr. Quinn.” A bubbly blonde flight attendant with remarkably bright teeth stooped over him, giving him a good view of her ample bosom.
He fought the urge to roll his eyes and tell her that she was trying too hard. Instead he smiled politely. “Yes?”
“May I get you anything else before we land?”
“A whiskey, please.”
“Right away, Mr. Quinn,” she said with a wink and a flirtatious smile.
Ryland shook his head, pulled the paperback out of his jacket pocket, and continued where he’d left off, hoping the mystery he was reading would take his mind off what he was going to have to deal with when he got home. But soon, the woman reappeared and set his whiskey on his tray table with a napkin wrapped around the glass.
“Enjoy,” she said in a sultry tone of voice. “Let me know if there’s… anything …else I can do for you, Mr. Quinn.”
“Thanks,” he said without looking up from his book. He picked the glass up and took a long sip before setting it down again. The napkin fell away and Ryland noticed that something had been written on it.
Call me next time you’re in LA. 323 555 6709. Tammy.
Ryland groaned, running his hand over his face before crumpling the napkin into a ball. He couldn’t wait to get this week over with.
***
“This is Jose, he’s one of Ryland’s ranch hands,” Michael said as a slight man with a tan complexion entered the room. He looked to be around thirty.
“Pleased to meet you,” Macy said, smiling.
“It’s good to meet you too, miss,” Jose said politely, shaking her hand.
“How long have you worked for Ryland, Jose?” Lane asked.
“For almost a year, although I’ve known the guy for a long time. We grew up together back in Georgia.”
“Oh, really?” Lane said, jotting down notes. “Very interesting.”
Macy turned her attention to Michael when she heard him grunt and offered him a reassuring smile.
“Glad you could join us for supper tonight, Jose,” Michael said.
“Couldn’t say no when I found out Helen was making her world famous cherry pie for dessert,” Jose said, patting his belly and winking at Helen.
“Oh, hush, now,” she said, swatting at his shoulder as she passed behind him. “It’s just pie. Every old lady knows how to make pie.”
“It’s the best you’ll ever try,” Jose said to Macy, offering her a flirtatious smile. “I guarantee it.”
Macy laughed. “Well, I don’t doubt that. Every single thing we’ve eaten so far has been outstanding.”
“Hear that, Helen?” Jose yelled into the kitchen. “Everyone loves your food.” He turned back to Macy. “I told her she should open her own restaurant.”
“Jose, I thought I told you to hush. I’ve told you before, I don’t want a restaurant. I want to stay right here at this ranch and cook for you buffoons. You boys wouldn’t know how to feed yourselves even if you tried.”
Michael chuckled as he watched the bantering between Helen and Jose. Macy was intrigued by the dynamics between them. Having grown up in what would not be considered a typical family, she wondered if this was what it would have been like. When she was a kid she often daydreamed about having brothers and sisters to play with, aunts and uncles and cousins to
Similar Books
