Page 37 of Changing Lanes

Jumping in my truck, I ram it into gear and get the hell away from her as fast as I can. I speed down Seventeen, trying to not turn around and find her so I can set her straight. What in the hell is she doing here? Did she not remember; this is my home?

Spoiled, rich brat is acting as if she’s doing me a favor. I’ve got news for her, I don’t want to work with her. And I sure as hell don’t want to work for her father. Besides, I’m sure I’m not good enough for either one of them.

Sitting in my truck, I look out over the farm. The two-story white house needs paint, as does the red barn sitting over to the left. Fencing and new shingles would be great. The fields lining the driveway need to be worked. We have so much that needs to be done this summer, but there’s no way in hell I can take their money, I refuse to. No matter how much work needs to be done, I can’t work with her. Trying to calm myself down, I count to ten, breathing slowly.

Why? After all these years, is she here, as beautiful as ever? Her blonde hair laying in curls around her face, soft and gorgeous. Black, tight skirt with a white button-up blouse. I’ve never seen better calves in black heels.

Something catches my eye; my mom walks down the steps.

She asks as she touches my arm, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, thinking. We may need to put off the fence for the back half until fall,” I suggest as I look out over the fields.

“That’s fine. I know you’ll do your best.” She glances over her shoulder. “So, what happened?”

Shaking my head, I drop it in disgust. “I don’t think I can take the job.” I’m always disappointing her. I’m sick of never having the chance to prove myself.

“Why is that, Brannon?” Her voice no more than a whisper.

“Torrie,” I answer, still in disbelief myself. “Torrie Harrington.”

Her head spins around as her mouth pops open. “What?” she asks.

“She’s here. It’s her father’s hotel, she’s doing the leg work,” I tell her.

“Did you see her?” Mom’s brows are pulled low. She knows what no one else does, I’m in deep.

Nodding my head, all I can see is Torrie. “Oh, yes. She’s pissed as hell. Looks amazing.”

Mom’s face softens as she studies me. “Still angry, huh?”

“Yes. Extremely angry. Because, of course, she’s the only one hurt here. No one else is involved or broken,” I rant.

“You left, she doesn’t have a clue as to what went on.” Mom tries to look at both perspectives.

“I know, I know. What about the things she’s done? She must’ve accepted his offer,” I say defensively.

“Maybe so, maybe not. Until you talk to her, you’ll never know,” she says then walks toward the house.

I jump from the truck, following her inside. “So, you think I should try to talk to her again?”

Facing me, she asks the million-dollar question. “I don’t know. Do you want to?”

Shaking my head, I answer, “It’s not so simple.”

“It’s love. It is,” she says as I walk past her, back outside. It’s not simple, never was.

Walking to the barn, I decide to do some yard work to get my mind off things. I love working on the farm, it’s one of my passions. I used to wonder why my parents’ loved this farm so much. The work is hard, and there’s no great money in it.

My dad would work from sun up to sundown, taking care of every inch of this place. Now, I take pride in it once I’ve completed a hard day’s work here. I’m working on the lawn mower when my phone vibrates in my pocket. Taking it out, I see it’s One calling. My nerves get the better of me as I slide it open. “Hey, One.”

“Brannon. How are you?” One is a good man, I knew he’d be worried.

“I don’t even know.” I huff as I sit down on a bale of straw. “Shocked is a good word.”

He draws in a deep breath before he tells me why he’s called. “I think everyone is. I need to talk to you about the project.”

Sighing, I give him lead. “Yes, of course.” Here we go, I’ve gotta find a new job.