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“Take the meeting, hear her out,” Sterling had said. “If her idea doesn’t seem workable, tell her no. Seems crazy to me, but I wouldn’t be running it. Mike Hagen would be in charge once you’re gone.”
“Well, hell,” Liam had argued. “Have Mike meet with her.”
“He hasn’t been here long enough to know what would work and what wouldn’t,” Sterling had pointed out and narrowed his gaze on him. “And you know it.” He’d picked up a pen and a sheaf of papers, effectively dismissing Liam. Then he’d glanced up again. “I’ve told her the final call is yours. You’re the one who knows the ranch best.”
A real rancher would have been embarrassed to admit that he didn’t know his own ranch as well as his foreman. Not Perry.
One more month, Liam had told himself that day. After that, whatever happened at the Perry Ranch wouldn’t matter to him. But even as he’d thought it, he’d known that wasn’t entirely true.
His own father had once been foreman here, and Liam had practically grown up on this ranch. It would always mean something to him even though it would no longer be his main focus. So he still would look out for the ranch’s long-term interests. Even while planning for his own.
“Fine. I’ll meet her in Houston,” Liam had said as he’d watched his boss. “I’ll give her a half hour. No more.”
Sterling had shrugged. “Works for me.” Then he’d busied himself with paperwork, and Liam took the not so subtle hint.
He’d stalked out of the big man’s office and closed the door behind him. Meeting Chloe Hemsworth wasn’t high on his list of things to do since here at the ranch they had two mares ready to foal and the vet coming to start inoculations on the cattle, not to mention the fact that Liam was busy training his own replacement. “How the hell am I supposed to work in a meeting with some society woman with too much time on her hands?”
“She’s not like that.”
Liam had stopped and turned toward the grand staircase that curved in an elegant sweep up to the second floor of the mansion. Esme Sterling had stood at the bottom of those stairs, and she smiled as she walked toward him.
Esme was tall, with long, straight blond hair, blue eyes that never missed much and an easy smile. In Liam’s experience, she was the one exception to the rule that rich, high-society females were useless. And she was a friend.
“Didn’t see you there,” Liam had said, grateful he hadn’t been complaining about her father out loud.
“Yes, I know.” She’d shrugged, tucked her hands into the pockets of her pale gray slacks and said, “I found out a long time ago that you can learn all kinds of interesting things if people don’t realize you’re around.”
Liam had grinned. “Sneaky, are you?”
“I prefer covert,” Esme had said, still smiling. “Look, Liam, I know my father can be...challenging.”
He snorted. As a PR executive at Perry Holdings, Esme spent most of her time explaining her father’s actions and guarding the family company. But of all the Perry kids, Esme had always been a friend.
“But he’s right in this. I know you don’t want to talk to Chloe, but she’s not what you think she is.”
Not convinced, he’d snorted again. “You mean she’s not the daughter of a rich man with more money than sense?”
“I didn’t say that,” Esme had allowed. “But Chloe’s more than that. She’s working hard to make a life for herself, and I would think you more than anyone could understand that.”
He could and that bothered him. Still, in his experience, wealthy women were mostly concerned with their hair and being seen at all the right parties.
“She’s really nice and very driven,” Esme had said, then paused. “Like you.”
“Driven?” Liam had been unconvinced. He and Esme had been friends for a long time, so he didn’t take offense at the word. But he also didn’t believe it applied to him.
“Oh, please.” She’d waved one hand as if wiping away his disbelief. “You’ve always known exactly what you want, and you’ve devoted yourself to getting it.”
