Page 6 of Cash
Cash harrumphs. “Shocker.”
Ignoring him, I press on. “I have a job. Like I said, I run my company back in Dallas. And I have a condo, and—and my mom lives there, and I—my friends, everything—I can’t just?—”
“Leave?” Cash raises a brow. “You could try it, right now.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Why don’t you take your own advice? My dad clearly didn’t leave you anything?—”
“That’s not exactly true,” Goody interjects.
“—so why don’t you get the hell out of here already?”
Cash turns to the attorney. “I’m listening.”
“Can’t you just release the funds, Goody?” I ask, desperate. “Even just a portion of them? At least until I can get Mom’s lawyers to look at the will.”
She offers me a contrite smile. “Wouldn’t be right, Mollie. I’m sorry. We do this how your dad wanted it done, or we don’t do it at all. My hands are tied.”
My mind whirls. Pressing my fingertips to my forehead, I close my eyes and try not to panic. I can’t make heads or tails of what was my father’s dying wish. I haven’t stepped foot on the ranch in twenty years. Why bring me back now?
Why make me Lucky Ranch’s principal owner?
Why do I care?
Why the hell do I care?
I don’t know why. But my heart still feels like it’s being passed through a paper shredder.
“As ranch life is”—Goody clears her throat—“clearly not a passion of yours, Mollie, I suggest you establish residency here in Hartsville as soon as possible. The sooner the clock starts, the sooner you’ll get your stipends, and the sooner you’ll be able to go back to your life in Dallas.”
“She won’t last a week,” Cash mutters.
“You’re not going to last another minute if you keep insulting me.” I open my eyes to glare at him. “I don’t know what my dad saw in you, but it’s obvious he was a piss-poor judge of character. Seriously, leave.”
“I’m not goin’ anywhere until I know Lucky Ranch ends up in the right hands.”
Goody rises. “How about we take five?”
Jamming the cap back onto my pen, I throw it into my bag, along with my planner. “I’m done here. Goody, you’ll be hearing from my lawyers.”
“Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out,” I hear Cash say as I stalk out of the conference room.
“Wait, Mollie—Miss Luck—” Zach rises from behind his desk, but I zoom past him and out into miserable afternoon heat.
I only allow myself to burst into tears when I’m safely ensconced inside my car. Grabbing my phone, I hit Mom’s number, the dial tone barely audible over the roar of the air-conditioning.
“Mollie!” Her familiar voice makes my runaway pulse slow ever so slightly. “How are you, sweetheart? How’d everything go?”
I collapse against the steering wheel, burying my face in my forearms. Letting out a sob, I say, “Not great.”
CHAPTER 2
Cash
RAISE HELL
Pulse thumping,I stare at the empty doorway. A sinking feeling takes root in my gut.
What the hell just happened? And how can I still smell City Girl’s perfume, even though she left?