Lumberjack BOSS Read online

  I roll down my window to let the cool, forest air seep into the truck. I fill my lungs with it and flick on my brights as the road starts to bump and weave in the darkness.

  A few miles of this and I’ll be home.

  My cabin comes into view, along with my golden retriever lying on the porch waiting for me. She stands up with excitement but doesn’t race off the porch until the truck is parked and I step one foot out. I’ve trained her well.

  “Hey, Pearl,” I say, scratching behind her ear as she hops up to greet me. “I know, I’m late. I’m sorry. You hungry?” She barks. “Yeah. Me, too. Come on.”

  I unlock the door and she bolts inside between my legs, instantly running into the kitchen and planting herself by her bowl.

  My stomach growls as I move through the living room to the fireplace. If I don’t start a fire now, I’ll regret it once I sit down with my dinner.

  Pearl barks again from the doorway between me and the kitchen.

  “Hang on,” I tell her as I stack a few logs. “You’re gonna want to curl up here with a full belly, aren’t you?”

  She pouts silently but waits as I build an orange flame.

  “All right…” I say, sliding my coat off and tossing it onto the rack. “What do we have?”

  Pearl wags her tail and follows me to the fridge. It pounds behind my knees, nearly knocking me off-balance as I scan the shelves for grub.

  “Oh, I know,” I chuckle at her. “You want me to heat up that leftover steak, don’t you?”

  Her snout nudges me and she lets out a whine.

  “And you want me to split it with you, don’t you?”

  She kicks up and scratches at my knees.

  “Okay, okay…” I grab the foil-wrapped meat, along with a potato to toss in the microwave. “Steak, it is.”

  While the steak heats on the stove, I walk over to the kitchen table. A hand-carved chessboard sits at the center with several finished pieces standing on top. I palm a block of basswood and place it in my jeans, along with my pocket knife. Once I’m through with dinner, I’ll try and get started whittling the queen — though I’m still not entirely sure how I want her to look yet.

  Pearl watches as I cook, pausing periodically to lap the drool off her lips. I flip the steak over, getting it nice and warm before chopping it up and tossing bits of it into her bowl. She devours it immediately and by the time I sit down in the living room with my own portion, she’s finished and ready for her evening nap by the fireplace.

  I smile at her as she curls up and rests her head against my foot.

  “Good girl,” I tell her, taking a bite from my warm, buttery potato.

  Three

  Hazel

  L Jack Industries.

  Lumber and Real estate.

  Established in 1890, just a few months after Montana became a state, by Leopold Jackman. The company has been owned and operated by the billionaire family ever since…

  I pause and reach up to unravel the towel turban on my head, letting my freshly-washed blonde hair fall down my shoulders. Bland motel soap and shampoo is better than the stench of Flathead County jail — and I never in a million years thought I’d have to say that.

  My eyes wander away from my laptop as I comb the tangles out with my fingers. I suppose it could have been worse. The owner could have pressed charges and I’d be looking at a permanent black mark on my otherwise spotless criminal record. But, then again, if I’m going to become a hardened criminal, it might as well be because of a cause I believe in, right?

  Everything is falling into place out here. Life finds a way to make things happen. Events and circumstances brought me out here to save Lover’s Trail before it gets destroyed in favor of corporate greed.

  The park ranger who picked me up told me to take my dispute to the loggers and that’s exactly what I intend to do.

  L Jack Industries.

  I scroll down the webpage again to find an old photograph of a long-bearded man in a thick flannel shirt with an ax slumped over his shoulder. Leopold Jackman, the caption reads. L. Jack. Lumberjack.

  That’s cute, I guess.

  Every firstborn male since then has been given an L name — Lucas. Levi. Laurence. — and they’ve all reigned as CEO until they retired and their sons took over. Must be swell knowing you always have a job to fall back on. Nepotism’s a bitch.

  I click the contact page and a photo of an office building loads onto the page. It’s tall — way taller than every other building surrounding it — and I instantly recognize it from my trek back here in a state trooper’s car.

  The building is here in Whitefish, Montana. The current CEO is Leonard Jackman and his office is on the fifth floor.

  I smile and grab the pack of beef jerky I bought from the gas station down the street.

  This is perfect.

  Tomorrow, I’ll walk right into his office and appeal to his face. I’ll put my foot down and I’ll refuse to leave until the man talks to me. Once he does, he’ll listen. I know he will. I won’t give him a choice.

  I look at my mother’s diary sitting beside me on the bed. If there’s anything that’ll melt the heart of an old business man, it’s my mother’s beautiful words. Everyone I’ve told this story to would agree.

  I pinch the jerky between my teeth and take a victory bite. The dull, almost stale, flavor of dried meat and various spices spreads along my tongue, instantly flicking on my gag reflex.

  “Ugh!”

  I recoil and spit it back out.

  My phone rings on the bed beneath my knee. I take a quick glance at it and hesitate. It’s my grandmother. She’s called three times already today but I wasn’t exactly able to pick up in handcuffs. Not that I would have anyway…

  I bite my lip, feeling each ring pick at me until I finally give in and answer it.

  “Hey, Nana…”

  She sighs with relief. “Well, it’s about time. Where ya been, kiddo?”

  “I’ve been keeping busy,” I answer quickly, sliding off the bed to wander over to the windows. The mountain town chill radiates off the windows as I peek through and I remember why the curtains are so thick to begin with. “Sorry I didn’t answer before. I’m outside of cell reception over here…”

  “Well, it was either that or you were lying dead at the bottom of a gulch somewhere. Luckily, I’m an optimist.”

  I smile and step away from the cold window before my wet hair begins to frost over. “Yeah. Me, too.”

  “That’s good to hear.” She pauses. “Does that mean you’re holding up all right?”

  “I’m…” I sit back down on the bed, “okay.”

  “How’s the trip so far? Have you found what you’re looking for out there?”

  I glance at the laptop screen again.

  “Not yet, Nana,” I answer, picking a stray piece of jerky from my teeth. “But I will.”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  Leonard Jackman. Owner and CEO.

  It’s time to show you who’s boss.

  “Then, my dad walked over to the nearest tree and he carved their names into it because if they were never going forget that moment…” I pause for effect, “then that damned forest wouldn’t either.”

  The assistant, Bobby, stares at me from across his desk, leaning pensively against the heel of his hand. “Wow…” he sighs. “That is beautiful.”

  I nod and clench the diary to my chest. “That’s why I need to talk to Mr. Jackman and convince him to stop this project before a piece of me — a piece of the world — gets uprooted and tossed aside.”

  “And as soon as he gets in, I’ll make sure that you do, Miss…”

  “Smith,” I say. “Hazel Smith.”

  “Hazel.” He points at me. “Right. Named after the field where your parents — yeah...”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Well, take a seat and I’ll do my best to fit you in as soon as he gets back from the site.” He gestures to the chairs against the wall behind me.

>   “The site?”

  “Yeah…” He hesitates. “He’s at the lake right now with the contractor going over final arrangements for… well, you know.”

  He mimics a steering wheel and makes a vroom sound, followed quickly by the snapping and falling of trees.

  “Oh,” I say. “Well, thank you.”

  I turn around and sit down in the nearest chair. As I cross my legs, I catch him casually checking me out over the desk, his eyes sliding down my skirt to my ankles but I don’t have the energy to be annoyed with that right now. My heart is pounding so hard, I’m genuinely nervous about the state of my ribs. My foot bounces up and down and continues bobbing for fifteen minutes… then thirty…

  An hour passes and no Leonard Jackman.

  My chest aches. I’m pretty sure I’m starting to get palpitations from this stress. I lay two fingers against my neck to check my pulse, counting silently to myself as I glance up at the clock. Four hundred beats per minute. No, wait. That can’t be right…

  “Hazel?”

  I jolt and glance up to find Bobby standing over me with two coffee mugs. “What?”

  “I said, would you like some coffee?”

  “Oh…” I slide up taller. “Yes. Yes, I would. Thank you.”

  He hands me the mug and walks back to his desk.

  I take a drink and my tongue instantly screams.

  “Alphh—” I mutter, spitting it back into the mug.

  He glances up at me and squints.

  “Touu hhot…” I slur, chuckling softly.

  He gives a kind smile and turns back to his computer while my tongue continues steaming in my mouth. I purse my lips and inhale quick breaths to coat my tongue with air to cool the burn.

  Where the hell is this guy?

  The elevator doors open and a man steps out with his head down.

  My breath catches. He’s young and handsome — strangely handsome. I’ve never been much interested in men with beards but this guy certainly knows how to style one. His brown hair is slick back with just a single strand breaking away to hang down over his eyes. His black flannel shirt is wrinkled — but only slightly — with a little dirt around the edges from some manual labor. The sleeves are rolled up to his forearms and I follow the vein from his elbow down to his wrist.

  My thighs scream in pain. I snap out of my trance as I realize I spilled half of my coffee down my legs.

  “Fffffffffff—”

  The man halts in front of Bobby’s desk and stares at me with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.

  Oh, boy.

  “Hey,” Bobby says to him. “You’ve got three messages: two from your mom, the other from Patterson — and before you scold me for not telling you he called, check your phone because I texted you twice.”

  I use the sleeves of my jacket to sop up the piping hot liquid burning my knees.

  “And, lastly, you have a visitor in the lobby who would like to speak with you.”

  I look up to find them both glaring at me but I pause as I make eye contact with the handsome, bearded man again.

  Oh, my god.

  This is him?

  I didn’t expect billionaire CEO Leonard Jackman to be so… young.

  I uncross my legs and shoot up from my chair but I nearly tumble to my knees as I realize my crossed foot fell asleep. I shake it, casually trying to wake it up before hobbling closer. “Hi, Mithter Jathman—” I pause, feeling a burning lump growing on my tongue. “Mist-er Jack-man,” I say again, enunciating every syllable to keep the lisp in check. “I’m Hathel Sthmith.”

  Leonard studies at me, completely speechless, as his eyes fall to my twitching foot and my coffee-stained skirt.

  “Bobby…” he finally turns away, “check the local news. Find out if the psych ward is missing somebody.”

  Bobby nods with a disbelieving stare. “Will do.”

  “Oh, no, no, no.” I limp over to him and he takes just as many steps away. “I’m noth crathy. I juth burned mah tong and mah foot ith athleep.”

  Leonard glares at the desk again.

  Bobby shrugs. “She was normal an hour ago, man.”

  “Well, her meds must have worn off.”

  I laugh to break the tension but stop when I realize that’s probably what a crazy person would do. I take a deep breath and wet my tingling tongue.

  “I’m sorry,” I say slowly. “Can we sthart again?”

  Leonard spins toward his office. “I’m not here,” he tells Bobby as he opens the door.

  “Oh, wait — please.” I chase after him, finally getting feeling back in my ankle. “Mr. Jackman, please, I justh need a minute to thalk about—”

  He slams the door on my face.

  My guts churn. This was my only shot at this and I freakin’ blew it.

  Dammit…

  Bobby stands up. “Why don’t you take a seat again?” he suggests, keeping an arm’s distance from me. “I’ll talk to him.”

  “Tthunk—” I clear my throat. “Thank you.”

  He pauses, silently gesturing with his eyes for me to back away from the door. I do so, taking swift steps as he opens the office door and closes it again behind him.

  Ah, crap.

  Four

  Leo

  Bobby follows me into the office and I throw up my hands.

  “Who the hell is that?!”

  “I’m sorry,” he says, closing the door. “She was totally cool before. I swear.”

  “What does she want?”

  “She wants…” He shifts on his toes. “She wants to talk to you about… canceling the Jackman Springs project.”

  I blink. “We’re breaking ground on Tuesday.”

  “Yeah, I told her that.”

  “And she wants me to cancel the project?”

  “That’s what she said.”

  “And why are you bothering me with this?” I ask. “Call security and boot her ass out of here!”

  Bobby scratches the back of his head. “See… the thing is, Leo… she’s got a really good pitch.”

  I step closer and lay a hand on his shoulder. “And you’ve got a really good job,” I say, giving him a quick pat. “Which one is more important to you?”

  He doesn’t hesitate. “My job.”

  “Atta boy.” I walk over to my desk and fall into my chair. “Now, what did my mother want?”

  “She wants to know if you’re bringing a girl home for Christmas this year.”

  I roll my eyes. “That’s over three months away.”

  He shrugs. “They’re booking rooms now.”

  “Okay, just… if she calls back, tell her yes, but if I don’t have a plus-one by then you can be my date.”

  “But…” He lays a hand over his heart. “Leo, isn’t this a bit sudden?”

  I chuckle. “Go do some work — and get that woman out of here. The last thing we need is someone tossing yet another wrench into this project.”

  “You got it…” Bobby nods and leaves the office, slowly closing the door behind him.

  I lean back in my chair and close my eyes, eager to get a few minutes of peace before diving into the notes for Monday’s board meeting. There’s still so much to figure out. I haven’t heard back from the zoning commission but Bobby did mention a message from Patterson. Maybe that’ll clear some of those questions up and then I can nail down—

  My office door flies open and that woman rushes inside. I sit up as she slams the door and locks it, trapping a shouting Bobby outside.

  “Mr. Jackman,” she holds up a leather-bound book, “I need a minute of your time.”

  “Whoa—!” I slide my chair backward but it quickly runs into the wall. “What the hell—”

  “My name is Hathel—” She sighs with frustration. “Hazel. My name is Hazel and I’m here to appeal to you to please cancel the housing development and keep Lover’s Trail intact.”

  My mouth sags in stunned disbelief. I look her up and down, following the splotch of spilled coffee from her lap down to the to
rn stocking around her ankle. A lock of blonde hair has attached itself to her lip. She tries to swipe it away but it refuses to leave. Her wide chest heaves up and down, stretching the buttons on her white blouse. Big, green eyes. High cheekbones on a girl-next-door kind of face…

  “No!” I say, snapping out of it. “Get the hell out of here.”

  “Leonard…” She steps away from the pounding on the door and holds her hands in prayer. “I truly believe that once you hear me out, you’ll want to save this forest as much as I do.”

  “I highly doubt that. Get out.”

  “No,” she says, standing tall.

  “Get out.”

  “Not until you—”

  “Get out.”

  She huffs. “God, you’re annoying.”

  My jaw drops. “Me?!”

  The door breaks open again and two of my security officers barrel inside. They split off and each grab one of Hazel’s arms.

  “No, no, no,” she says. “Please, Leonard. Please.”

  They easily lift her over a foot off the floor and carry her out into the lobby. I follow slowly and watch from my busted doorway as they board the elevator and the doors close on her pink, panicked face.

  “Holy shit,” Bobby mutters from his desk. “Well, that was exciting.”

  I stand still for several long moments, watching the empty lobby in shock.

  Who the hell was that girl?

  I step into the parking garage and reach into my pocket for my keys. It’s mostly deserted, save the few cars owned by those even more obsessed with their jobs than I am. Wind echoes down the long aisles, shifting dead leaves around, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand tall.

  I pause and glance around, my thoughts instantly returning to that girl from before. Wild and crazy eyes. Stained clothes. Plump, kissable lips.

  Man, I really do need to get laid.

  I shake the thoughts away and continue toward my truck on the second level. More prickles dance down my back, spreading along my spine like spiders, so I pick up my pace. Every little sound magnifies, each one yanking me in different directions until I finally reach my door.