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Chapter Fifteen

“ I ’m going to fucking destroy you, boy.” Harris was screaming over the speakerphone, and Rory was enjoying the hell out of imagining the old fucker red-faced and sputtering.

“Now, now, Mr. Harris. Are you threatening me?”

“It’s not a threat! It’s a fucking promise!”

Rory chuckled and signed a sheaf of paperwork that would guarantee him another three hundred acres that penned Harris up tighter than a nun’s coochie. “That’s not very neighborly, sir.”

God, this was more fun than spinning turtles.

Lori came in to grab the papers, grinning at him when Harris went incoherent for a moment. Maybe he was having a stroke.

He gave her a thumbs-up, then went to checking his emails. “You swallow your own tongue, Harris? That would be a shame.”

“Your motherfucking whoreson. I swear to you, I will find your Achilles heel. I know you have one. Pussy boys like you always do.”

“You know those Greek guys, Harris. They were always fucking the shit out of somebody’s ass. Have a lovely day, would you?” Click.

He spun around in his chair just tickled as a pig in slop. If Harris was this insane then the latest deal had really hit him where he lived.

“Lori, do you have the plan I asked you to draw up?” The horse operation between him and the LeBlanc place had just stepped up their plan to close down, due to the elder Lawson having a stroke. He wanted to give Matt and Luke a proposal for leasing.

“I do. Boss?”

“What?”

“Are you sleeping with Luke?”

“I’m not sure one blow job is defined as sleeping with, but that’s the plan. Why?”

“You didn’t even mention my new hair-do.”

He tilted his head, studying her shorter, more fashionable… What did his mom call that? A shag? “I like it. The highlights really frame your face.”

“Yeah? It’s not too young for me?”

“Nope. I think it’s spot-on.” He loved that phrase. One of the things he’d picked up on his jaunt to the UK.

Either that or from the shows off BBC. Whichever. Oh, he wondered if Luke liked Doctor Who …

“Earth to Rory. You’re too happy. It’s weird.” She winked at him. “Also, you do have a day job that’s not real estate magnate here in town. Conference call at ten on the water rights dispute.”

“Oh, cool.” Sometimes it was good to do the job one loved best. “Can you order pizza for lunch? I have a craving.”

“Sure. Your usual?”

He nodded. He did love a nice green pepper and hamburger pie .

“Got it.” She beamed, and he knew she would order a personal Hawaiian for her, extra pineapple.

He blew her a kiss then pulled the Peterson file. Water rights. Right. Work that made them money instead of costing it.

Rory chuckled. He knew he was a lucky man in that he got to do both.

He got to pouring over the file, but he couldn’t help but grin hugely every time he thought of old Doug Harris screaming like a banshee. That dude was losing it. It was about time.