Lissa walked to the end of the hall and into the last bedroom on the left.
The dog padded in after her.
“Good boy,” she said, and dumped her suitcase on the floor.
The room was awful. Cabbage rose wallpaper. Faded carpet of an indeterminate color. Oak furniture, each piece so big she could only imagine that getting it upstairs must have meant hernias, sprained backs, and lots of cussing.
A porcelain pitcher and basin stood on one nightstand. She’d have shuddered at the sight but, thank goodness, she could make out a toilet, sink and tiny shower through a half-opened door just opposite the bed.
Not that the plumbing or what passed for décor mattered.
She was here for one night. It might well end up feeling like the longest night of her life, but one night was all it was.
Tomorrow, Nick Gentry’s pilot would fly her back to civilization. She’d chew Marcia out for not checking things out before sending her on this—this wild-goose chase and—
And, she’d be right back where she’d been all these past weeks.
Jobless and rapidly working toward also being penniless.
“Damn,” she said softly, as she sank down on the edge of the bed.
Brutus padded over and put his massive head in her lap. He gave a soft whine and Lissa stroked his head and smiled at him.
“I know,” she said. “You hate that I’m in this mess.”
The dog whined again. Lissa reached down and hugged him. He was the only one she could rely on, the only one who gave a damn.
Except, that wasn’t true.
Her family would have done more than give a damn, had they known her situation. But she had not told them, nor would she tell them. They were all so successful: her three brilliant brothers, her two brilliant sisters, her powerful father.
They’d all have wanted to help her if they knew what a mess she’d made of things, but she couldn’t let them know about it. For one thing, she’d started off with her career looking so good…
And then, when it had begun to sink a little, she’d hidden it from them.
You came from a long line of winners, you certainly didn’t want to spoil the score by showing that you were a loser.
Lissa fell back on the bed.
Wildes were always successful. Always. They didn’t make mistakes, they didn’t make bad judgment calls, they didn’t screw up their lives.
She was the only one.
The useless one.
And now she’d made matters worse, not asking Marcia the right questions, not doing what her lawyer brother, Caleb, would surely have called due diligence before blithely, blindly boarding a plane and heading out to Nowhereland.
It was all Nick Gentry’s fault.
He’d lured her here with promises of a job that didn’t exist, with talk of a resort where she could make her culinary skills the talk of the West.
Lissa rolled onto her belly.
Except, he hadn’t done any of those things. It was Marcia’s fault, but Gentry behaved as if it were hers.
What was he doing all the way up here? Running a ranch? It seemed as if he were, but how come? He was an actor. A talented actor.
She’d lied when she’d said that she hadn’t liked any of his movies.