Can't Hurry Love Read Online Free PDF Page B

rancher.
    Monday morning Victoria walked into Randy Jenkins’s Dallas law office with all the enthusiasm of the freshly converted, the born-again.
    Look out, Crooked Creek Ranch; I’m ready to make some decisions .
    About what, she didn’t know.
    “Good morning, Victoria,” Randy said, coming around his desk to shake her hand. The mid-morning Texas sun blasted through the floor-to-ceiling windows and hit the polished surface of his desk. She squinted against the glare and shook his hand.
    “Hi, Randy.” She smiled into his nondescript face. He had all the trappings she’d come to associate with lawyers. The wire-rimmed glasses that probably cost more than they should. The dark suits, the red ties. The too soft hands.
    Where Randy was different, however, was in the eyes.
    There was none of the raging judgment there that she was used to from the Manhattan lawyers prosecuting her husband’s estate. Instead, there was an almost apologetic eagerness. Probably because Randy’s son had knocked Luc unconscious on the ice last month. It was an accident, but it had ultimately put an end to Luc’s NHL career. Either way, Victoria was ready to pretend that eagerness was all about her.
    “I assume you’re here to start paperwork against Eli Turnbull?”
    “That … what?”
    “Eli sold the herd on Saturday.” Randy turned back around the desk, reaching for a file.
    “I know.”
    He stopped mid-reach, gilded by the sun flowing in from outside, and she felt the cold breeze of insecurity. “You know?”
    “He was given control of the herd in the will. Remember?”
    “Not so he could sell the whole herd. We could argue intent, and frankly, there’s a case for sabotage—”
    “Sabotage of what?”
    “The ranch?”
    “He wants to buy the ranch.” She managed a weak little laugh, despite the hard lump in her throat.
    “I know. Trust me, Eli’s made his intentions clear. But your family has been adamant about not selling it to him or his uncle.”
    “His uncle wants the ranch, too? What is it with these men?”
    “Eli’s uncle, John Turnbull, is a man of some means. He is the bank account behind Eli’s offers.”
    “But how does selling the herd sabotage the ranch?” She tried to connect the dots on her own, but she didn’teven know where all of them were. And suddenly there seemed to be a lot more than she’d ever dreamed of.
    “Much of the valuation of the ranch is based on that herd. And since your brother intends to give the controlling interest of Baker Leather to Tara Jean Sweet—”
    “He does?”
    “You didn’t know?”
    “Clearly.” Randy Jenkins with his bland face was too easy a target for all of her embarrassment and anger, so she let him have it. “I don’t know anything, Mr. Jenkins. That’s why I came here today. To learn something.”
    Randy blinked and then sat carefully behind his desk, as if his office was suddenly filled with land mines.
    He gestured for her to sit across from him and she did, forcing herself not to clutch her nearly empty purse like a life jacket. It was the last of her Coach bags, the leather frayed at the edges and the straps getting sticky from use.
    She crossed her legs at the ankle, tucking them underneath the chair, and cultivated stillness. If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was keep her shit together while bombs were raining down from the sky.
    In the face of her calmness, Randy relaxed.
    “Your brother called a few weeks ago to ask about the legalities of giving Tara Jean control of the leather portion of the inheritance once it’s out of escrow.”
    “That seems reasonable; she’s earned it.”
    “Well, between losing controlling interest in the leather business and the herd, that leaves your brother with only the land and the house.” He paused, as if checking to see if she was keeping up.
    Once again, she felt the need to explain the difference between uninformed and stupid, but then she realized all she’d done so far was prove how