Grumpy Boss

The guy turned with a big grin, and more smoke plumed from his face. He was older, in his sixties, with jet black hair cut short, and a scruffy beard. It was Byron Nave, no doubt in my mind, though a little bit rougher than the picture I had of him back in the office.

“What the hell are you doing?” I called out as I reached the fence.

He tilted his head and took the cigar from between his teeth. “Shooting a god damn bird on my own property. And what the fuck are you doing, stranger?”

“I’m Rees Court,” I said. “We had a meeting. And I show up to you shooting a fucking gun in your front yard.”

“Pheasant,” he said, like that explained shit. “Released them on my land a few years back and the bastards have been multiplying ever since. They walk right up to my house, like I won’t fucking shoot them.” He turned and shouted at the field. “I’ll shoot, you fucking bastards, don’t you god damn tempt me.”

I stared at him and considered turning around. It wasn’t too late—we could drive back to the airport and be home by the morning. This psychopath was more liable to murder us by accident, or even on purpose, than he was to invest in my company.

But I needed his money, and I didn’t have any other leads at the moment, so even though he was holding a gun, and clearly mentally unstable, considering he just yelled at a bunch of birds, I decided to suck it up and press forward.

“Kevin Lane put us in touch,” I said, and gestured at Millie. “This is my assistant.”

“Charmed,” he said, nodding at her. “I was expected you, Mr. Court. Kevin told me to keep a look out.”

“Call me Rees,” I said.

“So long as you call me Byron.” He walked over and leaned against a fence post a few feet away. “I got to admit, I don’t know how you fancy Wall Street types like to do these kinds of deals. Kevin tells me you’re one of the few honest money men in the game.”

“I’m not sure about honest,” I said, taking a breath to calm my jittery nerves. My hands were shaking as I started to come down from the rush. “But if I’m going to fuck you, I’ll at least fuck you to your face and buy you dinner after.”

Byron barked a laugh, throwing his head back. He sucked in some smoke and blew it out before dabbing the cigar out on the post. He tucked the stub in his pocket then shoved a hand at me.

“Welcome to the wild lands, Rees. That bird I shot out there? That’s for dinner tonight.”

I shook his hand. “So long as I’m not going to eat any buckshot.”

“Don’t you worry, boy.” He grinned viciously and squeezed, almost yanking me into the barbed wire fencing. “I know how to clean game.” He stared at me for a long moment then released my hand and turned away. “Y’all go inside, my housekeeper will get you set up. Alba’s a real fucking peach, so you be nice to her. I’ll be around soon.” He stalked off, presumably toward whatever bird he just murdered, and I turned away.

Millie stood there staring at me like the ground just opened up and swallowed me whole.

“We got to get out of here,” she said, shaking her head. “That guy’s insane.”

“Yes, he is,” I said, stopping next to her. I put a hand on her arm. “Seriously, you okay?’

“I’m fine,” she said, chewing her lip, and she looked down at the ground, rubbing the toe of her shoes into the gravel. “Just scared me, is all.”

“Sorry,” I said, holding her gently, before releasing her again. “Come on, I’ll carry the bags inside.”

“Do you think this is for real?” she asked, matching my pace. “I mean, this guy has money, right?”

“Jack did his research,” I said. “It’s for real.”

“But he’s a cattle farmer. I don’t see any cattle.”

I frowned a little, squinting around. She was right—the land was flat and empty as far as I could see.

“He’s got thousands of acres,” I said. “Could be that he keeps the herd somewhere else.”

“Or this is all bullshit,” she said.

“Or that,” I agreed, and faced her again. “But we have no other choice.”

“I know,” she said, rubbing at her face with both hands. “I’m just on edge, from that stupid gun. Freaked me out.”

I took her hands in mind and gently pulled her closer. I hugged her then, tentatively at first, making sure she wasn’t about to knee me in the crotch. She felt good against my chest, and after a moment, she returned the embrace.

We broke apart a moment later, but that touch left something lingering on my skin.

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go inside. I’ll make sure he doesn’t go shooting anymore while we’re here.”