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That is not a productive rabbit hole to fall down. Pity parties are for chumps.
Holding one hand up to stop him, I launch in, “Okay, first of all, I am downright fascinated by your blow-up doll preference. Can we table that for now but revisit it someday?” A sneer touches his lips. Ha. Didn’t like that one. “Second, I’m a grown-ass woman, don’t call me a girl. And third, when you’re finished having this epic man-child meltdown,” I wave my hand up and down his body like he did to me, “can you please let Hank know that Billie Black is here for her job interview?” And then I beam at him with a big old cheesy smile.
“How do you feel about an extra ten percent on my base salary for my, what did you call it… sweet ass?”
So yeah, it’s beautiful, but troubled.
“Well,” I say, gazing ahead, “why don’t you introduce me to the new man in my life?” He turns towards me slowly with a grave look on his face. “He’s going to be a lot of work, Billie.” “Of course, he is, Hank. Men always are.”
Eyes twinkling with mirth, Hank shakes his head. “I don’t know about that. But the one thing I am sure of is that if anyone can bring this guy around, it’s you. This horse needs some love. He just hasn’t met anyone brave enough to give it to him yet.”
Haven’t needed a man so far, not about to start falling over myself for this one.
Fucking my employee is off the table. The farm is in too much trouble. But fucking with my employee… now that’s another story altogether. Off to the races, honey.
chastising myself, and let the shame spiral begin. How old am I? Draining a bottle of wine on a work night? Telling my new boss he looks good on his knees? Cringe. Cringe. Cringe.
“So, where are you from originally?” I ask. Violet rolls her eyes. “A small town you’ve probably never heard of. Chestnut Springs. It’s just south of Calgary, Alberta.” “Sounds like a town in a cowboy movie.” “Looks like one too.”
I swear the air around us crackles with unspoken tension. Yup, Boss Man and I have some crazy volatile chemistry. Dangerous chemistry.
Obviously, my ovaries don’t know what my brain does. Men like Vaughn are bad news. Knock, knock, ovaries! It’s brain here. Let me in.
“Good lord, don’t be such a bitch baby.”
He looks at me like I’m a grenade that could go off at any moment, but follows anyway. Smart man.
I reluctantly tear my eyes away from the dirt track to look at Hank again, standing in his signature jeans and polo shirt, with that knowing sparkle in his eye. Like he knows something you don’t.
I’ve been able to restrain myself from crossing that line again. Because that is the line that neither of us needs to blur. The farm can’t take any more drama, and Billie doesn’t need me thinking with my dick.
The Ice King continues to glare at me. What a riot. He seems like a fun guy. Said no one ever.
maybe that’s the most annoying thing about her. She doesn’t annoy me at all anymore.
Every eye in the room is on Patrick and Billie. You could hear a pin drop. “You work for me. I gave you explicit instructions. I brushed off your small-man-syndrome chauvinistic comments to forge a working relationship. And what did you do?”
“You will never ride another one of my horses again. You will never come near Double Diablo again. The only view you’re going to get of him is of his shiny, black ass while you watch him cross the finish line.”
I’m no mother hen. I’m a fucking mother bear. And you poked me. So, when you see me around, I want you to turn and run the other way like the snively, little bitch that you are.”
“If you ever use me or my horses to win brownie points in your billionaire-baby sandbox, I will bury you there myself. Are we clear?”
“Don’t you dare look away from me, Billie Black,”
And I cry because this beautiful soul who is standing here, letting me rub snot and mascara all over his perfect coat, still loves me despite it all, which is more than I can say for almost anyone in my life. No one has ever chosen me.
He doesn’t offer me fake words or try to console me, to fix me. He just lets me be.
“Billie, some people celebrate Mother’s Day for being a ‘dog-mom.’ That’s unstable. Crying over a sick horse that you love isn’t.”
“How long you been staring at me, Boss Man?” she mutters. “Since day one,” I whisper in her ear. “Take the sappy shit somewhere else, Vaughn.” I snort. “There she is.”
Maybe for one night? We could probably handle one night with no complications. We’re both mature adults… Haha. Just kidding. We are not.
“This,” I point at myself, gesturing up and down my body, “is really bad.” He looks over at me, sighs, and closes his eyes. “You look like someone who saved that horse’s life today. That’s what matters. I already know you’re beautiful.”
My feelings for her scare me. They’ve paralyzed me. Basically, I’m a total pussy.
he says to me, “I don’t want to disappoint you.” I shrug in response, not ready to get my hopes up in that department. Not yet. “Then don’t.”
Two broken people, damaged by the ones meant to love them the most, finding solace in each other’s arms.
Impostor syndrome is a raggedy ass bitch
It probably isn’t appropriate for me to be listening in, but hey, no one ever accused me of being appropriate. Why start now?
“Hope that knowledge keeps you warm at night because I definitely won’t be.”
she kidding? “That’s it? You’re just going to quit on me?” Her eyes are watery, and her smile is sad when she looks at me. “You quit on me first.”
“Is that really what you think? You can’t bring yourself to see my side of things at all?” “Oh, I can see them just fine. I just don’t like what I see.”
I know you’ve been burned, and I know you don’t trust easily, but you’ll never find what you’re seeking if you’re not at least open to being chosen.”
Billie doesn’t fit into the box I can usually push people into. She’s a psycho kangaroo that jumps all over the goddamn place. And I love her for it.
for a moment I see Hank as the stereotypical farm dad sitting on the front porch rocker with a big gun on his lap. And I’m the poor fool who broke his daughter’s heart.
“Billie Black might be the most insane and annoying woman I’ve ever met in my life, but at least her moral compass is intact.”
“What do I do?” “You tear that contract up and you beg.”
Mira called me once to check in. I was snarky on the phone and she told me she wasn’t cut out for motherhood and to please call her back when I was done acting like a child. Then she hung up.
“Yes. I love you. I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you since that day you marched onto my farm, dressed me down, and then demanded extra pay for having a great ass.”
Like an angel. A pain-in-the-ass-angel with a trucker mouth, who I love.
