Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 77936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
As I stomped down the hall, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Rather than texting, Adler had opted to call me back.
“Hey, Hannah, I’ve got a quick call then we’ll go,” I yelled down the stairs before answering my phone.
“Hi, Maverick.” Adler’s easygoing Californian accent was a welcome addition to my day. “How’s my favorite boss?”
“I’m not your boss any longer,” I reminded him. He’d been part of the falling apart of the reality show. He hadn’t cheated like my ex, but he’d had a spate of personal issues affecting his work, all caught on camera, capped by a very public DUI.
“Doesn’t matter. You’re my favorite one. And the only one who tried to be a friend.” Adler kept his tone upbeat. “How’s life on the ranch?”
“It’s…complicated.” I glanced around the empty hallway. I’d finished two additional guest rooms up here. “If you’re still between gigs, you should come visit. I’ve got a dilemma I want your opinion on.”
“Oh? What sort of dilemma could an out-of-work concierge help with?”
“Do interventions work?” The words rushed out of me, a creek overflowing an insufficient dam. Adler was the one person who might have an actual answer for what to do about Faith.
“Oh wow, Maverick.” Adler’s voice shifted along with a rustling sound, like he was plopping down on a pile of papers somewhere. “That’s a hell of a question.”
“Sorry.” Fuck. I hadn’t meant to be insensitive and intrusive but had likely succeeded. I leaned against the door to the guest room that had once been my childhood bedroom, resting my head on the worn wood. “I’m sorry. That was poorly worded and timed. I’m so proud of you for making the healthy changes you have. And I’m wishing my sister could do the same thing.”
“Ah.” Adler drew the word out. “I can’t answer the intervention question for you. All I can say is an intervention wouldn’t have worked for me. I had to hit rock bottom on my own. Sadly, the footage of my rock bottom will live forever, but no amount of intervention beforehand would’ve worked.”
“Yeah.” I dug my forehead into a groove on the door, catching the edge of a piece of clear tape—the last remnant of a childhood sign I’d had on the door. KEEP OUT. Like that might’ve held all the bad things at bay. “I know. I just have to do something. For me, but mainly for Hannah, Faith’s kid.”
“They have support group meetings for people in your situation.” Adler had a patient tone. “And your niece. I’m texting you a link to ones in your area and online right now.”
“Thanks.” I hoped I sounded grateful, but inside, nearly forty years of rage swirled. I wanted to punch this door. How fucking dare Melvin Lovelorn lead us to this place where Faith was repeating his missteps, and I felt powerless to stop her slide.
“And I’m going to take you up on that visit offer.” Adler’s voice turned unusually firm.
“You don’t have to do that.” I wiped at my head, sweaty from more than the dry August heat. Maybe I couldn’t fix Faith, but I needed to save Hannah, and a wave of helplessness washed away the last of my rage, leaving me wrung out and defeated.
“It sounds like you could use a friend.” Adler rustled around again, more purposeful now that he had a plan. We shared an impulsive nature, along with a need to take action. Being a solid problem solver had made him a good concierge and manager. “You were a friend when everyone else ran away from me. And as it turns out, I continue to be underemployed. I’m not sure I’ll ever get another chance in the hospitality industry, but that’s a conversation for another time.”
“We’ll talk about it if you come,” I promised.
“I’ll text you my travel plans when I know more,” Adler said as we ended the conversation.
Hannah reported that we could grab Willow from her grandmother’s house, so we headed for my car, only for Grayson to come walking up with a purposeful expression I already knew I didn’t like.
“Hey, boss—”
“Not the boss.” I groaned in the same tone I’d used with Adler, but Grayson wasn’t having it.
“Actually, you kind of are.” He gestured at the house behind me. “You need to set up a meeting with the trust about fall cattle sales. We usually sell off the spring calves and other stock in late September or early October, but we’re looking at a rather soft market this year. I need to know how to proceed.”
“Understandable.” I nodded as if I had the capacity for one more problem today. “I’ll call them about a meeting, but you and I should talk beforehand so I have a better idea of our options.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Grayson ambled off. In actuality, I had no damn idea what I was doing with any of this. The ranch. Colt. Faith. Hannah.