Breaking Him(19)
It probably meant nothing—he’d been doing it since he started working for us a year ago—but that didn’t stop my chest from squeezing seeing him do it this time. I got it. After what happened, maybe he needed time, space. Things had gotten intense; not just with him overhearing Cassie and me but also between us. It didn’t mean I hated it any less that he kept it all bottled up inside. I was also terrified that he’d decide to end this thing we’d started. So I’d waited until I knew he was out working this morning and rushed to the truck. If he did feel that way, I wasn’t ready to hear it.
I’d seen him in my rearview mirror, watching as I tore off down the driveway.
It was cowardly. But I wasn’t sure I could deal with the possibility of him rejecting me and a meeting with the bank manager, a bank manager who hated my guts, all in one day.
“Ms. Smith.”
Connor Jacobson’s distinctive deep voice skittered over me, dragging me from my thoughts. I forced a smile and stood. “Mr. Jacobson.”
He didn’t smile back. He looked me over in a way that made me uncomfortable, setting the little alarm off in my head. The two times he’d been out to pay me a visit, throwing his threats around, I’d noticed the way he scrutinized me, the way he’d take in my grubby shorts and tank and frown. The disapproving look that would pass over his surly features. But today it was different.
“This way.”
He waited for me to follow, then closed the door behind us. His shoes made a squeaking noise when he walked around his huge desk and sat down. Wriggling his computer mouse, he clicked around a bit. “Let me take a look at your file.”
Like he didn’t already know what was in it. Jerk.
“Your payment’s late again,” he murmured. “This won’t do, Ms. Smith. Not at all.”
I squeezed the strap of my bag clutched tight in my fingers. “I just need a little longer, Connor…”
His head shot up, and he scowled.
“Ah…Mr. Jacobson.”
“You’re continually late with your payments. Since your father passed away, you seem to be getting further and further behind.” He picked up a pen and tapped it on his desk. “Have you thought about selling?”
I went ramrod in my seat. “No.” I gritted my teeth, swallowing down a string of curse words I wanted to fire at the smug prick. “It’s just this drought. It can’t last much longer. When the rain comes…”
“You can’t predict the weather.” His lips lifted in a smug little curl. “And if the rain doesn’t come?”
“It will.” I tucked my hair behind my ear and licked my dry lips. “I hoped you might extend my loan. I just need a few months, then when things get back to normal, and cattle prices go back up, I’ll have money coming in. We’ve also got several horses nearly ready to sell. They’ll get a great price. Eli’s done such an amazing job with them.”
He sat forward in his chair and stared at me. “You’re going to fail, Ms. Smith.” He darted a glance over my shoulder. “I knew your mother when she still lived here. She was a…a good woman.” His stare returned to mine. “Which is why I’m saying this. Get out, get out now, before you lose everything. That ranch is going to fall to pieces with you running it, that’s a fact. Sell now and it won’t take you down with it.”
I sat there staring at him, torn between storming out and hurling his paperweight at him. I wanted to tell him he was wrong, that I’d been in charge of the financial side of running the goddamn ranch for the last five years. But what came out of my mouth was something else entirely. “You knew my mother?”
His face flushed red, and he whipped out his pocket square, dabbing at his top lip. “Of course I did. She used to live in this town.”
No. There was more to this, and I had an idea what had caused the bad blood between my dad and this asshole. My stomach churned. “You made it sound like you knew her more than just some passing acquaintance.”
His eyes darted away, and he cleared his throat. “I guess you could say we were…close.” He mopped his brow. “We were…friends. And I know she’d hate to see you struggling like this.”
“How the hell would you know what she’d think or feel? I certainly don’t. That woman hasn’t talked to me since she walked out on us.”
His assessing stare stayed locked on me, and I wanted to poke him in the goddamn eye. “You look like her, you know.” His expression turned appreciative. “That striking blond hair…your figure…”