Chapter Three

Whitney watched her cousin swan about the bar, charming every woman he could. She appreciated her extended family, and had always gotten along with Micah, but she really hoped these women were a bit smarter than the lines he tossed around.

“Hey.”

She turned to find Samuel Ellis sliding onto the barstool next to her. A quick glance showed Micah with his back to her.

“What are you doing?” she whispered. “Trying to start a bar brawl?”

“Nah. Totally here for the conversation.” He signaled for a drink.

“With me? Do you even know me?”

“Sam Ellis,” he held out his hand. “But I’m guessing you already knew that.”

“Whitney Carroll.” She shook his hand and ignored the little jump in her nerves. Nerves that had already been teased fifteen minutes earlier and were willing and ready. Was he the first guy she’d voluntarily touched since the fallout of her marriage? Was that why she was as jittery as the first time she’d gone parking at Hummingbird Field?

She released his hand and then sat on both of hers. It was a horrible habit she’d developed as a teenager. But it was either sit on her hands or reach out and touch Sam Ellis again, and that definitely wasn’t a good idea. This was clearly some weird trial by fire that her body was playing around with.

“I have a proposition for you.”

Shit, at least this one was being honest. “Mr. Ellis, I’m not looking for any propositions tonight.”

“Man, I’m so sorry. That came out wrong and insulting.” He ran a hand down the back of his neck. “I’m really rusty at this.” He ducked his head. “I was proposing we have a chat. You know, as two people who really would rather not be here.”

“What makes you think I don’t want to be here?”

He smiled, which in turn made her fingers itch even more, and she ground them further into the barstool.

“Do you?”

“No. I don’t. I want to be home in my pajamas reading. But we don’t often get what we want, do we?”

“Not even close most of the time.” Sam’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry. That sounded really ungrateful, considering…”

“Considering you’re rich and somewhat famous and probably have everything you need?”

“Yeah.”

“Trust me, I know what it is like to have everything you think you need and not be happy.”

He raised his tumbler and she grabbed hers and they clinked. No words necessary. He was right. They totally recognized a connection.

“So I’ve confessed where I would rather be, what about you?”

For a moment she didn’t think he would answer but he finally shook his head and said, “Somewhere with my guitar.” He took another sip. “But really anywhere but here, although…”

He stroked his chin and looked in her cousin’s direction. “There is a certain level of fun to the proceedings. I mean, you are forbidden according to feud laws.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” Whitney finished her drink.

He looked appropriately chagrined.

Wiping the condensation off her whiskey tumbler, she tried to bring order to all the questions and emotions swirling around her brain.

“What’s in it for me?” Why was she playing along and tempting the feud fates? Not that the feud meant all that much to her, but family was family.

“For you?” Sam looked confused.

“Yeah. If I’m willing to offer my hide up to the spit in this conversation leading to war, what’s my return on investment?”

“I don’t suppose getting to spend some time with me would count.” He smiled and it was crooked, and she slid her hands right back under her butt. Sam followed them this time with his gaze, and she forced herself to remain rigid, waiting on a much better answer.

“Well, what would make life fair, Whitney? What do you need?”

She needed quite a few things. She needed money, a place to live, health insurance, food, clothes. Of course, all those could be achieved with one thing.

She laughed. “I need a job.”

He stared far longer than was comfortable. She finally caved and broke eye contact. Why was she even bothering to engage in this silly conversation?

Because it’s frivolous and a little exciting and she hadn’t experienced either in a while.

“I mean…it’s not that I don’t have jobs to give, I just…it wouldn’t sit right with me, and honestly, I don’t think it would sit right with you, either.”

He was right, dammit. The minute it’d left her mouth it had felt wrong on about six different levels. But he’d asked what she needed and that was number one on her list.

“You’re right. I was just answering your question honestly.”

He stared off across the bar. “What can you do?”

“Excuse me…”

“I mean what skills do you have?” Sam asked.

“I thought we established giving me a job was not cool.” Her fingers grew numb, but she continued to keep them trapped.

“It isn’t, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help you. I run a multi-billion-dollar company. We have job openings all the time.”

“I have a degree in mass communications, specializing in PR and advertising.”

He looked around and stared in the direction of his siblings. She leaned around and waved, and the trio of Ellises froze in shock.

“I see what you mean about the side of fun we could have, but seriously…” She returned her gaze to the Ellis in front of her, looking very concerned.

“No, I was wondering if I was being pranked for a second. You see, I have interviews lined up all day Monday for a new marketing assistant. It’s a floating position that works with several departments. The very first project is to assist me in the launching of a new ride at one of our sister parks. It’s heavily focused on marketing and PR. Depending on your experience, you might be a bit overqualified, but if you’re interested, I can add you to the list of candidates to interview.”

It was Whitney’s turn to stare. He wasn’t giving her a job, but he was offering her a chance to get one. He was right. She probably was a little overqualified. Then again, she hadn’t worked in her field for more than five years. This might be a good way to slide back into something better.

Reality and sanity joined hands and started singing loudly. What the hell was she thinking? Some near-perfect stranger offering to facilitate a job was insane. Her family and his would not like one ounce of it. Not to mention the whole boss-employee thing, if she were to get the job. That was a whole new set of concerns because, despite herself, Sam Ellis was already in her system in some weird, first impression sort of way.

She liked Sam Ellis. She liked his honesty. His clear integrity and his looks. I’m shallow. There, she thought it. He was tall and lean with dark hair and dark brown eyes and he filled out the jeans quite well, she was not ashamed to confirm. She needed to be back on her own two feet, but this was not the platform to do it.

“Sam, I really am flattered that you included me in this little conversation. It was fun, and that is something I haven’t had in a really long time. And I’m even more grateful that you’re willing to give me a shot at a job, but I think it has disaster written in capital letters all over it.”

He stared and then his shoulders slumped. “Well, thank you for your honesty.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, fishing out a business card.” If you change your mind, I’ll be there all day Monday. Call or show up. And thank you for not laughing at me.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, his eyes searching her face and his mouth opening and closing several times. Before she could prompt him…

“Ellis, get the hell away from my cousin.”

Whitney spun around to see Micah marching toward them like a bull. She stood and held out her hand. “Stop now. I’m a grown-ass woman who can decide who she can have a conversation with.”

She heard a snicker behind her and fought the urge to turn around and tell her favorite Ellis he wasn’t helping.

“You’re a Winston. Doesn’t blood mean anything?” Micah growled.

Whitney crossed her arms and sighed. “Of course, blood means something but good lord, Micah, do you even know why you don’t like the Ellises?”

“Damn straight I do, and he does, too.”

“Honestly, I don’t,” Sam offered.

I am so done with this. She grabbed her clutch, tucked the business card inside, and walked right out the door. If the two men wanted to rehash whatever feud floated about the mountains, let them have at it. She was going to her temporary home, getting in her pajamas, and rehashing the lovely and crazy conversation she’d had with her favorite Ellis.

…

Sam stared down Micah. “Well, I see nothing changes. Women are still running away from Winstons.”

Micah shoved him. “She was running away from you, you great pretender. Everybody knows you are one step away from failure around here. You ain’t your daddy or your brother. Lord knows the only decent, name-bearing Ellis was your mamma.”

Sam didn’t like to fight. His father always told him that resorting to fists was what someone did when deep down he knew he was wrong and couldn’t own up to it. He didn’t necessarily agree with that. He thought it was more likely a buildup of emotions that someone couldn’t articulate. Either way, he was not getting into one tonight with Micah Winston.

“Go home. Stay here. It really doesn’t matter to me what you and your family do. And you were right. I do know why the feud started years ago, but even more, I remember what you and your family did to my parents when they were first starting out. Good people do not do awful things, even in the name of love and business. So your family lost some land and your dad lost a love. That does not give your family the right to put innocent people’s lives in danger for revenge.”

Sam followed Whitney’s footsteps. He didn’t know whether he wanted to meet up with her in the parking lot after this or not, but he did know he was bothered by her rejection. Not in a bruised male pride way, but if the first thing you say you need is employment and someone offers you a means to possibly attain it, why would you say no?

That he took personally.

He stepped out into the mountain air and took a deep breath. He loved his town. He hated the way the past lingered for centuries, but he could not imagine living anyplace else. This was his home and maybe one day his children’s home.

He laughed as he waited for his ride to show up. His siblings hadn’t bothered to follow, and he was grateful for that, although Becky had sent a text the minute his feet crossed the threshold out. Too many questions he didn’t want to answer and the failure of the silly bet.

“Why?” he asked the parking lot. Why did killing himself for his job matter so much? He knew if he examined that too closely, he wouldn’t like what he saw, but the superficial answer was he could not fail his parents or his eldest brother. It sat on his shoulders, and his shoulders were broad enough. The other reasons, the more personal ones, didn’t matter.

His ride pulled around. He double-checked the license plate and picture and climbed in. A young woman smiled and repeated where he was headed to. He nodded and let the winding roads and pitch black night overtake any more self-examination. Monday he would hire an assistant and things might get a smidge easier on the work front. As for the bet, he had offered himself to Whitney and she’d declined. He knew better than to accept anything other than a no. If she had second thoughts, she would have to come to him.

Maybe it was the darkness of the car or the emotions of the night or the lack of sleep, but when the urge to go to the graves slammed in his chest, he couldn’t ignore it.

“Look, I know I’m not supposed to ask for a detour, and I know you are a woman in a car with a strange man, but despite all those red flags, is there any way I can get you to take a slight stop on the way to my house? It’s off the same road, two extra turns. If not, I totally understand.”

The driver looked at him in the rearview mirror and smiled.

“You’re Samuel Ellis. If ever I would trust a strange man, it would be you. Besides.” She patted her hip. “I’ve ways to protect myself. Where do you need to go?”

He gave her the directions and sat back, unsure how to feel about her blind faith because of who he was but admiring her bold statement. He closed his eyes for a minute. Faith. So many people had the faith, why couldn’t he manage it?

“Stop here.”

The driver pulled off.

“I’ll be only a few minutes.”

“Take your time.” She picked up her phone and opened a social media app.

Sam shook his head and climbed out. He turned on the flashlight on his phone and used it to find the path to the graves.

Walking into the clearing was like walking through iron gates that held all the answers, only you couldn’t leave with them.

He walked straight to his mother’s and father’s graves, bypassing his brother Isaiah, and the members of the Brodie family. He and his brother had no issues. Honestly, if anyone asked, he would have said he had no issues with any member of his family. Well, his twin, Eli, at one point, but they’d hashed that out last year.

But the truth was, he’d held onto something for seventeen years. Something that deep down he knew was the driving force behind the last twelve months.

“Hey, Mamma. Miss you and love you. It’s been more than ten years and I swear I still smell your perfume.” Sam took a deep breath. “I’ll catch you up later, but for now, I need to chat with Dad.”

He stepped closer, kissed his fingers, and touched the top of his mother’s gravestone, then his gaze shifted to the marble beside her.

“Hey, Dad. It’s been a year, I tell ya. A year without you. Ellis Industries is doing great, the parks had record attendance this past year, and the stud is booming with horses and movie opportunities.” He turned away and gathered his composure. He was not returning to the car with a tear-stained face. Once the pressure behind his eyes subsided, he looked back.

“You don’t know it and honestly probably never would have known it, but I heard you and Mom all those years ago. You were working on your wills and discussing various provisions and stuff and Mom asked you about the company and who was taking it over.” Sam stopped and took a few breaths.

“You said Isaiah could do it. That he was just like you, and if something happened then Eli showed the same initiative. Mom said what about Samuel? And your response? Samuel’s flighty. He gets distracted too easily.”

Anger simmered through his limbs, sinking him into the soil under which his family rested.

“Flighty, Dad? I was fourteen. What teenage boy wasn’t a little distracted at that age? You dismissed me. Dismissed what I might become. And from that point on I tried. I tried so hard to show you I had initiative and that I could handle things and not once, not once in the next sixteen years, did you say you were proud of me. I heard you say it to Isaiah, to Caleb and Lucas when the Percheron stud did something wonderful. Hell, even to Eli when he came home from one of his shoots. But for me, nothing.”

An owl hooted, and Sam soaked up the silence. His father wouldn’t answer him. But he had to put it out there. Let his father know that he was to blame for the man Sam was now. The man sleeping three hours a night and who was working so hard that his own siblings had been forced to challenge him with some moronic bet just to get him to slow down.

But he wouldn’t slow down. He had to keep proving to himself that his father wasn’t right. That he wasn’t flighty and easily distracted.

He would not let Ellis Industries fail on his watch.

The visit to the graves renewed his determination, and as soon as he got back home he marched straight to his office and back to work. The fact that it was midnight meant nothing. Somehow putting his biggest fear out into the world made it that much more potent, and he became more determined that his father’s words would never ring true. And yet, as he tried to focus on the safety reports his chief engineer had sent him, visions of a blond woman with a quick smile and smart wit appeared. He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. He really would like to talk with her again, but as he’d lost the bet his siblings had presented, that seemed to be impossible.

Although she was a Winston, which meant he theoretically could find her. But that would be tantamount to firing a warning shot across the bridge. At least in the eyes of Micah and his family. Becky had been right; their family had moved past whatever had occurred between their parents and Micah’s uncle. It was just one of those things that lingered around the mountains and in the memories of others. Still…

No. Better to let her be a part of some pleasant, diverting memory.

“Seriously? You are working at one in the morning?”

Sometime during his daydreaming, or night dreaming as the case was, his siblings had returned home. Three very angry and disappointed Ellises stood in his office doorway, identical with crossed arms and narrowed gazes.

Becky moved first, walking toward his desk and planting her hands on it. “One night. You couldn’t break away for one night.”

“Technically…”

Caleb snorted. “If you so much as mention it is a new day, so help me God…”

Sam got up and circled his desk. “Get off my back. I came out, didn’t I? I took your little bet.”

“And failed,” Lucas stated, leaning against the doorjamb.

“So I failed.” He wasn’t going to examine the fact that he wouldn’t see Whitney again more than he had failed. Funny for a guy who was killing himself not to fail.

His three siblings exchanged glances, and unease slid across Sam’s shoulders. The room’s atmosphere shifted from disappointment to seriousness and he circled back around his desk, hoping it would become a barrier for whatever was about to happen.

Lucas nodded and Caleb came to stand beside Becky. “Something has to change.”

“Oh for goodness’ sake. I told you I would slow down after this launch.”

“We don’t believe you,” came from three mouths at once.

“Question?” Lucas said.

Sam stared at his contemplative brother.

“Did you enjoy talking with her?”

“Who?”

“The Winston girl.”

“Whitney.”

Another set of exchanged glances.

“Whitney. Did you enjoy your conversation? Did you forget work for those fifteen minutes and enjoy yourself?”

Of course he had, but would admitting it be falling into a trap? After thirty seconds of weighing the pros and cons, he finally said, “Yes. I did. She was nice, and funny, and yes I forgot about things for a while.”

“Good.”

“So, we’re dropping this?”

“No.” Again in unison. Lord, had they rehearsed this?

“We’re upping the ante on the bet.”

“What? You can’t do that.”

“According to the paperwork and Dad’s will, we certainly can,” Caleb answered. Nothing joking about the sober look on his face.

“Are you threatening me?” Sam roared.

Becky came around the desk and placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’re trying to save you. You’re so caught up in being the perfect company guy that Sam Ellis is lost somewhere.”

Lucas pushed off the doorjamb and came to stand beside Caleb. “You’ve left us no choice.”

“No choice. What…because I didn’t get a girl’s number tonight?”

“No. Because you enjoyed someone’s company and then came right back home and sequestered yourself in this office. You’ve slept more in this chair during the past twelve months than in your bed. You’ve lost weight. Your eating habits are atrocious. You haven’t been on your horse in more than six months. I haven’t even heard you sing or play your guitar.”

Sam collapsed into his chair and stared at each of his siblings. A small part of him knew what Becky said was true. He had lost himself, trying to be everything to everyone in the company. And Caleb’s words ripped right through him, laying his failure to balance out to fester. He held his hands out in a plea.

“So what is this master threat? What ante has been upped?”

Lucas smiled. “You admitted that talking with the lovely lady tonight helped you forget for a while. So in the hopes that you find a balance, we bet that you cannot keep a relationship going for thirty days. An honest, spend time with someone, get to know them, have a little fun, take some time away from work, relationship.”

Sam ignored the person who immediately popped into his mind. She was the last person he needed to be spending thirty days with.

“And if I win?”

“Well, you will have found yourself a lovely companion for a while, isn’t that enough?”

Sam cocked his head, not amused.

“Fine. You can keep running yourself into the ground and we won’t mention a word until after your funeral,” Lucas said.

“If I lose?” Sam asked.

Again, the shift in attitude and exchanged glances. “If you fail, we remove you as head of Ellis Industries and run the company by family committee.”

“Eli knows about this?”

“Eli found the loophole.”

His twin. His own twin had thrown him under the bus. His siblings were threatening to take away the only thing he had in his life that he could prove himself with. And why? Because he couldn’t get a date? Because he hadn’t had fun?

Because I am killing myself trying to prove to a dead man his words weren’t right.

He looked at each of his siblings—siblings he didn’t particularly like all that much right now—but a small part of him, the part that wasn’t royally pissed off, admired the length they were willing to go to save him. At least in their minds. He didn’t need saving.

But if taking time off, or at least finding a small amount of balance in his life, would prevent him from proving his father’s prophecy true, than he would win this thing.

“Can I pick the girl?”

“Of course.” Caleb said.

“And we will even give you a week’s grace to find someone before the thirty days start.” Becky added.

“How generous of you.”

“I’m nothing if not generous,” Becky smiled.

“So do we have a deal?” Lucas asked.

“A deal? No, this is more like corporate subterfuge, but yes, I accept your upped ante and I look forward to the looks on your faces when I show you all just how balanced I can be.”

And on that pronouncement, Sam slammed his laptop shut and walked out of his office.