“Well, it’s not like you’re going to be hanging out with me much. You’ll be in the main office—or the Saddle Room, that’s Wilder’s office—I’m not entirely sure what you’ll be doing. But he needs—”
“Wait, I thought you were hiring me to be your sous chef.”
He laughs. Justlaughs. Like I’ve said something hilarious. “Rose, if I let you in my kitchen, we’llbothbe out of a job.”
The likelihood of Wilder cutting him loose is about as likely as me getting a call from Juilliard with a full scholarship based only on my Instagram posts.
Zero.
“So this is office work? Like papers and filing and stuff? I thought it was a farm.”
“It’s a ranch. Wilder needs help with the day-to-day. Vendor deliveries, inventory, billing, payroll, scheduling, things like that.”
“Sounds like busy work.”
“It is.”
“And how much does it pay?”
“I didn’t ask. But it comes with free housing and food. Hear great things about the chef.”
I grumble, but it’s not genuine. I’ve missed my brother’s cooking.
“This isn’t forever. It’s just .?.?. a reset.” Even as he says it, Ican hear that he’s still worried.
Wes’s voice softens. “And who knows, maybe the scenery here will give you some inspiration.”
There he goes, winning me over with art references. “The whole summer though? That seems like a long time to commit to something.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not exactly the whole summer. It’s six weeks.”
“Not until the end of August?”
“Well, you know. In case you .?.?. well, it’s just .?.?. we want to make sure you’ll really fit in here.”
Heat floods my face when I realize what’s happening here. “Wesley, did you have to twist his arm to hire me?”
“Couldn’t if I tried.”
“I don’t mean physically,” I grit.
“That’s it. I’m not arguing with my little sister. Now start packing.”
“You jackass. What did you say? Does he feel like he has to babysit me? Well, I’m telling you right now, I’m not about to be anyone’s problem.”
“No. Of course not. Wilder’s not a softie like that. He truly needs the help, Rose.” Something about his tone makes me believe him.
But I don’t indicate as much.
He sighs again. “Look, remember a few weeks ago, I told you about his brother Dallas?”
“The one who lost his fiancée in a barn fire?”
“Yeah. He’s been .?.?. well, unavailable, and Wild’s been having to fill in—everywhere. We’re not sure when Dal will be ready to get back to work. If he’s not spending all day in bed, he’s at Bones, one of the local bars here. He doesn’t ride, barely talks to the staff anymore, he’s just .?.?. not himself. Now Wilder’s runnin’ the place on his own.”
I purse my lips. “Wasn’t there a third brother?”
“Silas. Yeah. He doesn’t have much to do with the ranch. Plays hockey for the Denver Kings.”
