If there was one thing Scott Anderson was good at, it was running the Anderson Farm and Cattle Ranch but one thing he was bad at, was saying no to Wendy Ortega's lasagna on a cool afternoon. Wendy was the Farm's cook, who served the best meals and coffee to the ranch's workers, He barely ate at the canteen but Lord knows the woman could cook a fine meal. Perhaps being overly nice to her made him sort of attractive to her, she smiled at him always and asked about his day, offered to bring his mail or even take his laundry to the dry cleaners. He stared at the dish covered in pink floral blanket on his desk as Wendy stood akimbo, she had nice hips, dark curly hair, blue eyes, small pink lips, very nice lips.
"You're too good to me Miss Ortega." He managed.
"Well, you've been working so hard and when you stopped that horse from destroying the daisy garden, that was incredible." Wendy smiled.
He tried not to return the smile.
"Just doing my job."He replied.
"Oh, please don't take it out on Mark, he's a kid and—" Wendy began.
"I think it's best not to interfere, no amount of begging will change what's coming to that boy." Scott interrupted.
Mark chose that moment to walk past the door.
"Well, gotta get disciplined one way or another." She breathed. "So, I was thinking, are you busy—"
"Thank you Miss Ortega for the meal, I have a lot of paperwork on my hands." He stood to shake her hand much to her disbelief. "Do well to send that inventory I asked of yesterday."
"Alright, see you later." She smiled and walked out. He took a breath of relief once she was out and slid back on the chair. He opened the dish, it smelled good.
"Ah, and strike three she's out!" Mark cheered as he burst into the office holding a soccer ball, which he aimlessly threw at Scott. Scott caught it anyway.
"Wrong sport genius." Scott said and threw the ball over Mark's head. "Now, leave."
"Geez man, feel so bad for you, she left a whiff of desperation in here, I think she dies everytime you dodge her date move on you. " Mark reached for the fork on the desk. Scott slapped his hand away.
"Have you cleaned out the stables like I asked you to, and the entire chicken house?" Scott asked. Mark rolled his eyes and groaned.
"I got homework, chem extra credit." Mark stated.
"Since when? You're too dumb for extra credit, do your chores or I'm cutting your allowance." Scott saved a file on his laptop and moved to refresh his crossword puzzle game.
"You know how hard it is to move down here starting over again?" Mark protested.
"No I don't, because if somebody hadn't been caught stealing test sheets somebody would have still been in the best prep school in the west coast." Scott rolled his eyes as Mark nodded in disbelief.
"Whatever." Mark said.
"Yesterday you almost cost me an entire garden you're going to work until I say you're forgiven." Scott watched Mark's dimple deepen in humor. He had his mother's features, her hair, her eyes most people couldn't see Scott's facial look in Mark until they looked hard enough.
"Yeah of course you care about the dumb flowers than somebody should got thrown off a horse." Mark said in sarcasm.
"Oh, and it's my fault you forgot that horse doesn't like people riding it. I don't have time for this, I'm busy." Scott cheered internally when he got a word right.
"Sell the damn horse." Mark said.
"No."
"I want some of that lasagna." Mark demanded.
"Want it? Pass your chemistry test in flying colors." Scott said.
That chased him away. He swiveled on his chair to face his window. The therapist said their relationship was toxic with hostility, resentment, hatred lacking that father son bond. God, he hated Quinn, leaving Mark to him was a bad decision.
"He's a nightmare sometimes, you wouldn't know that." Be said out loud.
"I don't." An unfamiliar voice said.
he turned to face a woman wearing a blue tank top with a denim jacket tied on her waist. She had short hair that looked silky, a smug look and holding a green folder.
"Who are you?" He asked.
"Chloe Carter? I've been waiting for ten minutes to see you. I thought that blond kid told you." She said.
"Apparently he did not." Scott said. Typical.
"Anyway, Helena spoke to you about the job I wanted, I'm here now." She sat without invitation crossing her long legs and folding her arms.
"You're the woman Helena talked about." Scott said. She nodded.
"The newly released convict, I already told Lena that I wouldn't hire you even if you claim to be good again." Scott looked at his laptop.
"Oh, I'm not claiming to be an angel, I just need six months paycheck and I'll outta your way before you know it, pay is good. " She pushed her little finger in her nostril and flicked a dirt away. "So, what do you say cowboy?"
They stared at each other for a moment.
"No." He finally said. "You can leave now I have a lot of work to cover, a ranch to run."
"I can tell you're just playing crossword on that computer."She chimed.
"How can you tell?" He closed his laptop.
"No telling. I'm serious about this job."
"And I am serious about not hiring you, get the hell out of my land now." He retorted.
She groaned but she was out in ten seconds. Good riddance. He looked at his desk, she left her folder. Terrific. He took it and went after her. His office was just outside the stables. He saw one of his workers Nigel walking by with a fresh sack of chicken feed. Nigel was just twenty-one working his way into college probably New York, the kid was good.
"Nigel, see any broad, blue tank top short hair?" He asked.
"Wow, I haven't heard you describe a woman other than a cow before." Nigel teased.
He smirked. "Very funny, did you see her?"
"She's over there, I asked who she was and she threatened to hit me with this bag, should I call the police? " Nigel asked nudging his head to where the woman stood patting a horse, her silhouette was...different.
"No need, I'll handle it." He assured Nigel.
He strolled over to her with her folder.
"I'd appreciate it if you don't threaten Nigel like an inmate. Here." He held the folder to her.
"Tell your worker not to stare at my ass like a douchebag." She snatched the folder away.
He didn't even know how to reply that. He scoffed. "How would you know if he was staring? "
"Because it's a super power every goddamn woman has since she was born." She rolled her eyes. She rubbed the mare's neck. "Wanna try checking it out?!"
"Really? I don't have time for this. Go home." He said.
"Alright cowboy, sure I may have been in prison for roughly ten years give or take, it's limited like I'm staying for a long long time, you'll barely know I work here. " She said. He turned to look at her.
"That's funny, the last ex convict I hired said the exact same thing, stole from me, drank on the job, he's lucky I didn't break his nose hard enough before he skipped town. So tell me, why the hell would I hire you?" He asked. She looked away.
"Okay, the guy was a crook, I don't need to depend on Helena for anything, my ex remarried, haven't seen my kids in a decade. Maybe if I can start over then they won't see me as a disappointment. You know what it means to have your kid look up to you then they realize that you're not everything they thought you would be." She stared at her nails with no sign of honesty.
Mark saw Scott as a thorn in his flesh and their idea of relating was their love of extra bacon at breakfast, the only thing Mark looked up to him for was extra cash to blow on junk and video games. She did look tough.
"Let me see that." He reached out for the folder, she gave it to him.
He glanced through. "You went to Isaiah Goodman High?"
"Yeah, sure." She replied.
She graduated two years after he did, but he'd never seen her before. She studied Management from University of Maryland, worked at Calypso's restaurant, five stars as assistant manager. He looked at her. "I'm not looking for an assistant and certainly not a manager because you haven't worked in ten years give or take."
She gave a fake smile at that.
"But I know what you can do, how soon can you start?" He asked.