Page 183 of Spicy Ever After
“I don’t know where she is,” Margaret says, but I hear it. She’s hedging. “I need more information.”
“Well, where do you think she is?”
“I—look, Beck—” Margaret sighs. “I have a guess, but I really need to wait to hear from someone. Either Hattie or my parents. But, I swear to you, I’m not worried. Not about Hattie’s safety, okay?”
I frown. “Not about her safety? Then what are you worried about?”
The line goes quiet for only a few seconds, but it’s an infuriating few seconds.
“Margaret?”
“Beck, I will tell you more when I know something for sure. Okay? I will call you back in three hours, tops. Good enough?”
No, it’s not fucking good enough.
“Why won’t you?—”
“Three hours, Beck. Just give me three hours and know that she’s okay.” She doesn’t give me time to argue or agree. “Talk soon.”
Then she hangs up.
“Fuck!”
“That good?”
I turn to find Javier on the steps, a look of open curiosity on his face. I haven’t shared that Hattie’s ghosting me, but he knows something’s wrong. And since he already knows about the bind the farm is in, he’s guessed out loud that my mood this week is due to the tightening noose on my prospects.
I haven’t corrected him and I’m not about to do it now.
“We gettin’ back to it?” he asks, thumbing over his shoulder toward the fields.
I glance at my watch.
Shit.
Our lunch break ended twenty minutes ago. I’m paying the crew to sit on their asses.
But before I can answer Javier, Pop does it for me.
“You got a man on your team who can step up as foreman for today?” he grumbles at Javier.
Javi frowns at me before looking back at Pop.
“Yes, sir. Gui can take over for me. Why?”
“Because you’re going to take over for Beckett. He needs the afternoon off.”
I know I’m truly fucked when I can’t even argue.
I’m in no fit state to drive a harvester. My head is 1600 miles away.
When the phone rings two hours later, it’s not Hattie.
It’s not even Margaret.
It’s Beth Millbrook from the credit union.
And because of where my head has been, it’s the last thing I expect.
