T. McClure - Deal Of A Lifetime

The clothes he had worn on the flight in two days ago were pressed and folded neatly on top of the dresser. Aunt Hope could give his laundry service a run for its money. His loafers, placed near the cookstove the day before, had finally dried but would never be the same.

“But they’ll get me home.” Alex stretched. Despite the fog yesterday, he had enjoyed riding around the farm with Sera in the golf cart. After brushing his teeth and combing his hair, he dressed and grabbed his overnight bag.

He strolled down the stairs and cast a last glance over the pictures in the hallway before entering the kitchen. The room was empty, but the light on the coffee maker was lit. He opened the cupboard and removed the mug with the yellow script. He set his bag by the back door and helped himself to coffee.

The two dog pillows were empty, as was the rocking chair. He strolled over to the sink, where a beam of light lit the purple and pink blossoms of the African violets. Through the window he saw Sera’s truck parked next to the barn and wondered how she had recovered it. He walked outside, keeping an eye out for the dangerous Saint Bernard.

He approached the truck. The bed was filled with firewood. Seeing no signs of life other than a tiger-striped cat, presumably the culprit who had chosen this farm for a home for her and her kittens, skulking through the herb garden, he decided to walk up to the orchard and make a phone call.

From the top of the hill, he could see the stream below, winding its way between the fields of corn and grass. Beyond the bare trees he could make out the silver tops of Cyrus’s grain silos, an American flag at the top of the tallest was the only bit of color in the landscape.

After a quick call to the airport and some schedule changes, he punched a familiar number. “Good morning.”

“Alex?” The phone sounded as if it had been dropped.

He looked at the receiver to see if he had hit the right number and then hit the speaker button. “Carrie? Are you there?”

“Alex? Hold on.” Carrie Oliver must have gone outside because Alex heard the sound of a door closing. Daughter of the founder of Oliver and Associates, Carrie was one of his two closest friends from law school. She had been instrumental in bringing him into her father’s firm. “Hi. You’re up early.”

“So are you.” Alex looked at the surrounding trees, picturing the sidewalk and steps outside Carrie’s apartment. “Where are you?”

“Helping Will.” Through the phone, the sound of a siren whooped nearby, then faded.

“Helping Will do what?” Will was the other close friend from law school, except Will had lasted only a year before dropping out. With the chirping of the birds and the wind rustling the leaves in the trees, Alex felt very far away from Manhattan. “Is he there? With you?”

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.