Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“Why did your grandmother summon me? What did you tell her?”
He chuckled, shaking his head with fond exasperation. “The truth minus the naked proposition part. I had to. Grams lives next door and saw me come home that morning just before my ex dropped my truck off. She’d already run into my friends at the bakery, so she knew I wasn’t out late with them. She thought I’d hooked up with someone new and that I didn’t want Mary-Kate to find out. That would have blown up in my face, big-time.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah,” Denny agreed ruefully. “I learned a long time ago that it’s easier to stick to the truth. Elmwood is a small town, and people talk. That’s why…if we’re friends, I need to know more about you.”
“Well, okay. I’m twenty-nine, just finished my second stint of grad school. I have a master’s in business and psychology, and I recently opened my own business—which I’ll have to put on hold for a few months. It’s a bummer, but this little assignment in Wood Hollow will help me fund and expand faster.”
“You’re a horse whisperer therapist. How’d that happen? Aren’t you supposed to be a logger?”
“If you ask my dad, the answer is yes. I have an older brother and sister, and he fully expected one of us to take over the family business. I’m the only one who stuck around and gave it a shot. I went to college in Boulder, fell in love, and figured the mill was my destiny.” I opened my hands like a preacher at a pulpit, shaking my head ruefully. “I interned for Dad and tried to learn the ropes. It wasn’t…terrible, but my father likes to call all the shots. My great contribution to RM Mill to date is that fucking billboard.”
Denny flashed a Cheshire cat grin. “My favorite billboard. Tell me everything.”
I sank into the upholstery with a sigh as if hoping it led to a magic portal. “In addition to being a shameless opportunist, my ex is a photographer. My dad mentioned at dinner one night that the mill needed a brand makeover, something sexy. It’s my dad’s mantra. ‘Make it sexy.’ You gotta understand, my dad has this larger than life, super exuberant personality. He was always the loudest, the funniest, the most charming guy in any room. You wanted to be the one he noticed, you know? Seth, my ex, got caught up in Dad’s sunny orbit. He wanted to do the photography. It would have been a huge career boost for him, and I didn’t have anything to do with marketing, so it didn’t matter to me. But get this…one day, Seth says, ‘Hey, baby, let’s take the horses out and check out sites in the forest. For inspiration.’ He took dozens of photos of trees and a few of me with Bess.”
“Your horse?”
“Yeah, she’s a beauty. Those were supposed to be for him…for fun. I didn’t care that he showed Dad, but I did care that he took them to his meeting with the head of marketing. They loved them. They wanted me to be the face of RM Mill, and wasn’t that an honor?” I huffed sarcastically. “It felt like betrayal. He sold me out for a buck. Needless to say, that was the end of us.”
Denny frowned. “Did your father know you were against those photos?”
“Of course.”
“And he still used them?”
“Of course.” I chuckled at Denny’s irate expression. “My dad loves money. He thought I was being ridiculous. It was a photo, no big deal. But I had a business degree, damn it. I wanted to help lead the company, not be a fucking model. It was insulting.”
“You could sue.”
“Sue my dad?” I scoffed. “Yeah, I don’t think so. I’m a Cunningham. I doubt I’d win that lawsuit. It would have resulted in a lot of extra publicity…in addition to the billboards. Great for Dad’s wallet, not mine. The whole thing pissed me off. I broke up with Seth, gave my dad my resignation, and took a job mucking out stalls at a neighboring stable for a few months while I figured out what I wanted to do next.”
“Work with horses?”
“Yep. One of the owners had a group of kids with Down syndrome who’d come by once a week to ride. They were teenagers with big personalities, and their outlook on life was so pure. They were in awe of the animals, the color of the sky, the crest of the trails. Every day was an adventure, a chance to learn something new.”
“That’s cool.”
I nodded. “I was hooked. I got my certificate so I could help out, and went back to school for a masters in psychology and counseling. I’d just gone out on my own when Dad got sick.”
“I read about that. I’m sorry. Heart attack?”
“And cancer. His mind is sharp, but he’s weak and frail.” I cleared my throat and looked away briefly. “I agreed to help, ’cause even though he pisses me off, he’s still my dad.”