Breaking Emily's Rules. Heatherly BellЧитать онлайн книгу.
have to turn around and go back home to change, and he could look forward to another encounter with Winston when he did.
“Emily’s always been a klutz. But I will say, I’ve never seen her ask a guy out before. This is one for the books,” the girl said as she came around to mop the floor.
And what the hell had that been about? Emily’s eyes had widened in shock when he’d turned to see who had asked him out in a voice that sounded like that of a phone sex operator. Hadn’t she told him she was not in the habit of going out with strangers? And why the hell was she constantly running out on him? He still hadn’t heard “sorry” come out of her mouth, but at least this time, the apology had been written all over her face.
“I’m guessing she comes in here a lot,” Stone said, dumping the napkins in the trash can.
“Emily? You could say that. Her family owns Fortune Ranch, if you’re interested in following up on that date request.”
A tempting thought, admittedly, but maybe best to stay away from the girl. First his jaw, then hot coffee spilled inches from his crotch. He couldn’t afford to lose a limb at this point. “Fortune Ranch?”
“It’s not a cattle ranch anymore. Mostly where we have the high school’s Sadie Hawkins dance, picnics and big company parties. She’s going to add weddings now.”
He looked out the storefront and saw Emily hit her head on the steering wheel of her truck. He recognized the woman who had run after her, since she’d come in a couple of weeks ago to talk to them about newspaper advertising.
Stone headed back to his truck, brand-new cup of fresh coffee in his hand. With no traffic, he was back home within minutes.
After wrestling Winston down again, changing and driving to the airport, by ten Monday morning Stone was back at the flight school. No one here to bother him but the planes. That he could handle.
Finally, a few moments of relative silence. Not common at airports, but there was a lull between landings and takeoffs at San Martin Airport in the afternoons. The airport and its strip were small and located out in the middle of the empty field, formerly zoned for agricultural use alone.
Stone stared out the window at the two Cessna planes, Magnum Flying School printed on the side of one of the planes. Dad’s dream had lasted a good ten years, but it threatened to fizzle out with Stone at the helm. He’d never claimed to be a damned businessman. He knew how to fly a plane. Happened to love flying a plane. Teaching and running a small business was another story.
He shut the window because he smelled shit again, or as his office manager, Cassie, explained, the fertilizer for the mushrooms. It was a fact of life here in Fortune, home of the mushroom, but only mattered depending on which way the wind blew. There were days when the wind shifted and Stone wanted to pack his bags. But then he’d see his father’s photo and be reminded he’d made a promise, and he intended to keep it.
Cassie stuck her head in the door. “Got a minute, boss?”
“Told you not to call me that.”
Cassie Helms was sixtysomething, and nearing retirement. By way of introduction a year ago, she’d told him exactly how old she was and announced she and her husband had a pleasant-sized nest egg and planned to retire to Mexico. In case he got any bright ideas about making any significant changes, he assumed. They’d already bought the hacienda, which made Stone wonder whether perhaps he paid Cassie too much. More than likely, the previous owner had, for many years. Come to think of it, that sounded just like Dad.
Then again, Dad hadn’t been any more of a businessman than Stone. Not when his biggest concern had been that both Cassie and Jedd keep their jobs.
Cassie walked in with a glazed donut, which she placed on his desk. This meant she had semi-bad news, since she often liked to present her news with food offerings. Candy meant good news, donuts semi-bad news. Stone expected in a few weeks he’d find a cake on his desk.
“What is it now?” Stone raked a hand through his hair.
“Mr. Burton wants a meeting,” Cassie said as she eased into the chair across from his desk.
“I should have seen that coming.” In Burton’s place, Stone would have done the same.
Burton, a wealthy retired CEO from Silicon Valley, had been the only one to express interest in buying the school as one of his investments. They’d been in the middle of working out salaries for keeping Cassie and Jedd on staff. Stone could almost smell his freedom, and then his sister had slammed into town. She’d been approached by a developer for almost twice the amount. But that would mean the loss of many local jobs, and likely another strip mall. “I doubt it’s good news.”
“You’ve done everything you could, and I know your father would say the same.”
“He was so proud of you. Had pictures of you and your unit all over the office. I used to like coming in here and seeing all those handsome soldiers. An old lady needs to get her thrills somewhere. But then you took them all down.”
He sure didn’t need any reminders of that time. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“I miss your dad more than I want to admit. The ol’ fart.”
Stone grinned. “I should have put that on his headstone.”
Dad’s presence was here in this office and everywhere Stone looked.
He had a meeting with Sarah and her attorney next week. Matt had talked Stone into it, do-gooder that he was. There should be a job waiting for Matt at the United Nations if he wanted it. Stone supposed it was his own fault for putting her off so long after that first contentious meeting. But on the other hand, she’d been the one to hire an attorney first, forcing him to hire one, too. Still, there was no point in avoiding the inevitable. Maybe with some luck Sarah’s attorney would help, though Stone doubted it. A meeting was all he’d agreed to.
Sarah might be his sister, but in name only. They didn’t know each other anymore, and the fact she only cared about money made him think he didn’t want to know her. She didn’t feel like family since only biology connected them, and he had no obligation to her. The one thing he knew without a doubt was that his obligation was to the only real family with which he’d had a real and lasting connection. The United States Air Force, and James Mcallister.
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