Page 5 of Hitched to my Boss (Viva Las… Oh, Sh!t #2)

JASON

N atalia's SUV disappears down my driveway, and the silence that follows feels different than usual. Not the comfortable solitude I've cultivated for four years, but an absence. Like something important just left.

Which is ridiculous. I've known the woman for two hours.

I clear our coffee mugs from the table, noting how she'd arranged her materials. Everything had its place, nothing wasted, no unnecessary flourishes. Professional efficiency that I can respect, even if the idea of having someone dissect my business practices makes my skin crawl.

The truth is, Natalia Santos isn't what I expected when Jude described a PR consultant who specialized in difficult clients. I'd braced myself for some slick city type who'd try to turn me into something I'm not, armed with buzzwords and fake enthusiasm.

Instead, she'd seen through my defenses in minutes, identified exactly what my problem was, and proposed a solution that actually made sense. She'd treated my preference for solitude as a professional characteristic rather than a personality flaw.

And she's beautiful in a way that makes it hard to think about business.

I push that thought away as I boot up my laptop.

My online presence is practically nonexistent.

My current website is a single-page site that features basic contact information and a brief description of my services.

No photos, no testimonials, nothing that would give a potential client confidence in hiring me.

I'd spent years building expertise that could solve Marcus Hartwell's problem, but I'm struggling to communicate that expertise to anyone who doesn't already know me.

My phone buzzes with a text from Jude.

Jude: How'd it go with the PR lady? Still planning to disappear further into the mountains?

I stare at the message, considering how to respond. Jude knows me well enough to recognize when I'm avoiding something, and my usual pattern would be to find an excuse to head out on a multi-day scouting trip rather than deal with anything that feels too complicated.

Me: She's competent. We're moving forward.

Jude: That's it? "She's competent"? Zen said she was smart and attractive.

Me: I hired her to fix my reputation, not to date her.

Jude: Who said anything about dating? I'm just surprised you didn't immediately find reasons why her plan won't work.

He's not wrong. My first instinct when anyone suggests changing my routine is to find logical reasons why their approach is flawed. But I hadn't done that with Natalia. Instead, I'd actually considering her suggestions, even agreeing to let her spend weeks here observing my work.

Me: Her approach makes sense. And I need this contract.

Jude: Well, that's progress. Try not to scare her off before she can help you.

After Jude signs off, I spend the evening reviewing my existing business materials, seeing them through the lens of what Natalia had pointed out.

She's right that everything focuses on technical capabilities without conveying any sense of personality or approach.

A potential client reading my current materials would know I'm qualified, but they'd have no idea whether I'm someone they'd want to work with.

The next morning, I'm up before dawn as usual, taking care of the basic maintenance tasks that keep my property running smoothly. By the time eight o'clock arrives, I've already split and stacked wood, checked my equipment storage, and reviewed the weather forecast for the coming week.

Natalia arrives exactly on time, her SUV navigating my driveway with the same confidence she'd shown yesterday.

This time, she's dressed more casually in dark jeans and a cream-colored sweater that brings out the warmth in her skin, though she still looks polished in a way that makes me aware of my own worn flannel shirt and work boots.

"Good morning," she says as she approaches the cabin, carrying what appears to be a much larger bag of materials than yesterday. "Ready to dive into this?"

"Coffee's fresh," I tell her, holding the door open. "Though I’m fairly sure Mrs. Toombs from the lodge already told you my entire life story since you checked in yesterday."

Natalia laughs, a genuine sound that warms something in my chest. "She mentioned you helped her son repair their roof last winter without being asked, and that you always pay your tab at the general store immediately instead of running a monthly account like everyone else."

"Great. She's building me a reputation as a saint."

"Or as someone who's reliable and community-minded." Natalia sets her bag on the dining table, already familiar with the space. "Both valuable qualities for a service-based business."

I watch her unpack what looks like a portable office. Laptop, tablet, portable printer, folders organized by color-coded tabs. The woman is clearly prepared for anything.

"I spent last night reviewing your current business materials," she says, pulling out a folder labeled with my name. "And I did some digging and found out that Hartwell will be at a ranchers' convention in Vegas this weekend. And you and I will be there.”

Panic rises in my chest. “We will?”

“Yes. It’s the perfect opportunity to show Hartwell that you’re willing to adjust to his particular needs without complaint. Plus, Vegas is just an hour's drive from here. It would be career suicide not to attend.”

I release a noncommittal groan that Natalia either doesn’t hear or ignores.

“Now that that’s settled,” she chirps. “We need to talk about how you present your services online."

"What's wrong with how I present them?"

"Nothing's wrong, exactly. It's just very..." She pauses, clearly choosing her words carefully. "Functional. It reads like a government contract."

I probably deserve that. Most of my early clients came through Fish and Wildlife referrals, and I'd written my service descriptions to match the formal tone of government communications.

"Show me what you mean."

She opens her laptop and pulls up my website, which looks even more sparse on her larger screen.

"Listen to this description: 'Wildlife management services including population assessment, non-lethal deterrent implementation, and relocation protocols for conflict resolution.

' What does that tell you about how you actually work? "

"That I can solve wildlife conflicts without killing anything."

"Right, but it doesn't explain why that matters, or how you approach problems differently than someone who just shows up with a rifle.

" She turns the laptop toward me. "Compare that to how you described the Tarah Chen situation yesterday.

You talked about understanding the problem, working with her to prevent future issues, and finding solutions that worked for everyone involved. "

I see her point. The clinical language I'd used makes the work sound impersonal, when the reality is that every situation requires understanding the specific dynamics between humans and wildlife.

"So, how do I fix that?"

"We rewrite everything from the perspective of problem-solving rather than service delivery." She pulls up a document on her tablet. "Instead of listing what you do, we explain how you think about these situations."

"And that will convince Marcus Hartwell to hire me?"

"Not on its own, but it'll give him a reason to have a conversation with you instead of just moving on to the next contractor.

" She leans forward slightly, and I catch a hint of whatever perfume she wears.

Something subtle that makes me want to lean closer.

"The goal isn't to close the deal with your website.

The goal is to get you in the room where you can demonstrate your expertise. "

That makes sense. I'm much better at explaining my approach when I can see the actual problem and tailor my response to specific circumstances.

"What do you need from me?"

"Stories. Specific examples of how you've approached different situations, what made each one unique, and how you developed solutions that worked.

" She opens a voice recording app on her tablet.

"I'm going to ask you about various projects, and I want you to talk through your thought process the same way you did with the Tarah Chen example. "

"You're going to record me?"

"Only if you're comfortable with it. The alternative is me taking notes while you talk, but I might miss important details."

I consider this. Being recorded feels invasive, but Natalia's approach yesterday had been straightforward and professional. She hadn't tried to manipulate me or push me beyond what I was willing to share.

"Alright. But if you ask something I don't want to answer, I'm not answering."

"Fair enough." She positions the tablet between us. "Let's start with how you got into this work. Not the technical training, but what drew you to wildlife management specifically?"

The question catches me off guard. Most people assume I fell into this work because of my military background, or because it's profitable, or because I couldn't find anything else. Nobody's ever asked what drew me to it.

"I like solving puzzles," I say finally.

"Every wildlife conflict is essentially a puzzle.

You've got animals behaving in ways that create problems for humans, and usually it's because something in their environment has changed.

Food sources, habitat destruction, climate factors, and human encroachment.

Figure out what changed, and you can usually figure out how to redirect the behavior. "

"And that appeals to you because?"

"Because there's always a solution that doesn't require killing anything. It just takes patience and observation to find it."

She nods, making notes on a separate device while the tablet continues recording. "Tell me about a situation where someone tested your patience. Where the obvious solution didn't work and you had to get creative."