Jake loved the way his Aston Martin hugged the curves on the narrow country road. It wasn’t often he got to open her up, and the engine moved from a purr to a roar. He doubted there would be cops out here and didn’t care if there were. This kind of ride was worth the price of a ticket and the bump in insurance. It wouldn’t make a dent in his budget. Not even a blip. Smiling, Jake leaned on the gas.

“Sounds like Layla’s enjoying your time.” Xander chuckled, the sound of his voice clear on the Bluetooth speakers. “How’s the gret stet of Tejas? You turned into a cowboy yet? Seen any rattlesnakes? Eaten your weight in queso?”

“Uh, none of the above. And that’s a terrible accent. Never do that again.”

“As I’ve mentioned in previous conversations, Jacob, I believe that you need to live it up a little more when you do these drives of yours. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

“The point is to make sure that everything’s in place.”

“Well, is it? How are things in Lucky? Tell me something good so I can pass that onto the very nervous board. You know I’m not sweating, but I never do. So…you got this, right?”

Jake groaned. “Stop being such a boss, boss. When have I ever not taken care of my end of things? That’s why you pay me the big bucks.”

“I know. It’s the board, not me. I don’t need to remind you that this is our biggest project yet and the first since going public. We need to get the permit office on board, the mayor needs some hand holding—you know. Nothing new and I’m sure it will be fine. The board trusts me. I trust you. Just get back to Chicago with good news in a few days.”

“Will do, Xan. Oh, I wanted to ask you—”

There was a sudden beeping over the speakers. Jake frowned, easing off the gas to glance at the dashboard. He must have gone out of range of the cell towers. Probably time to head back to the tiny town of Lucky, Texas where he was spending the days finalizing plans for a multi-billion-dollar development deal that included a planned community, retail projects, and a bridge across the Sabine River to a new casino in Louisiana. He had a lot to do and didn’t plan to stay in Lucky more than a day or two. He would be checking into a suite at L’Auberge Casino tonight, a little over an hour away.

When he came to a gravel drive, Jake slowed and pulled in so he could turn around. Heading back toward town, he punched the gas, Layla sputtered instead of roaring to life. He looked at the console, seeing the needle on the tachometer jump and then still. An orange light came on.

“No, baby, no, baby, no!” Jake groaned. He pressed the gas again, but Layla sputtered to a stop.

He was on a narrow, mostly paved road somewhere in East Texas. No cell reception, based on the fact that his call with Xander just got cut off. The closest town was Lucky, about fifteen miles back. He hadn’t seen a house or building in at least five minutes of driving. This was the stuff of horror movies. But he was less worried about chainsaw murderers and more worried about his best girl.

Jake did his best to steer her off the road, but there was only a thin, gravel shoulder. Nothing in sight except fields, a few trees, and that one cow lazily chewing grass and staring at him over a wooden fence. He pulled the key from the ignition and rested his head on the steering wheel. Smoke rose from the hood. The May heat already felt oppressive, much hotter than Chicago ever got, even in summer.

“Lord, not Layla. Not today. Not here.”

The only answer to his half-prayer, half-plea was the ticking and hissing of the engine. And the sound of a car approaching, fast. A car! He couldn’t remember the last one he had seen pass by. This might be his only chance to avoid walking miles back to civilization or cell phone reception.

Jake jumped out of Layla, closing her door so she wouldn’t lose it if the car drove by too closely. He was far less worried about his own safety. A pickup was speeding toward him. Feeling foolish, Jake waved his arms over his head.

The truck zoomed right on by but brake lights came on immediately after, then reverse lights. The truck shimmied a little side to side as the driver reversed down the road. Jake caught his breath. Don’t hit Layla don’t hit Layla. He was about to jump in front of her front bumper, which he knew was about the stupidest thing he could do, but finally the truck straightened out and pulled up beside him.

Two guys about his age in their mid-twenties got out. One was drinking a can of beer and had on camo shorts and no shirt. The other had on low-slung jeans and an unbuttoned flannel shirt like it was winter and not ninety degrees. Both wore cowboy boots. They looked exactly like the kind of guys you’d run into on a lonely road in East Texas, down to the older model pickup with a gun rack.

“Thanks for stopping,” Jake said. “I haven’t seen another car for miles and wasn’t sure if I would.”

They both ignored Jake completely and instead walked up to Layla, close enough to touch, but not touching.

The guy with no shirt spoke first. “Holeee sh—”

“Language!” the man in flannel said. “Can’t talk like that in front of a lady. Do you even know what you’re looking at?”

The other man crushed his beer can and threw it in the bed of the truck. “A whole lotta money on four wheels. She’s sure pretty, though.”

The man in flannel reached out a hand and shook Jake’s, his eyes still not leaving the car, like he was looking at a beautiful woman. Exactly how Jake looked at her. He felt the surge of pride that he always did about Layla. She had great, clean curves and was an amazing deep blue. The only thing better than looking at her was feeling the power of the V-12 engine soaring on an open road.

“I’m Matt,” the guy in flannel said. “That’s Slim. Is this an…Aston Martin?”

Jake nodded. “Yeah, the Vanquish.”

“Love the color. Not flashy, like red, but not boring black. What’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know,” Jake said. “She started making noises and then everything just shut down.”

“That’s no good. We’ve got a mechanic in town but I doubt they’ll have the parts. Can I touch her?”

“Of course,” Jake said.

Slim pulled another can of beer out of the truck and leaned against it, watching while Matt walked around the car. Layla was sleek and in perfect condition. Other than whatever was wrong with her engine. Jake kept her in top shape, detailing once a month at minimum, even when he hadn’t gotten a chance to drive her much. She was his favorite of the three cars he owned, but he liked her on open roads, not around Chicago. Sometimes he would take her out late at night on Lake Shore Drive and let her run.

Layla had been his first extravagant purchase when he and Xander took Obsidian Development public. Stocks went even crazier than projected and the two of them went from eight to nine zeros in the bank overnight. At twenty-eight, Jake was one of a dozen billionaires under thirty, and Xan was almost as rare as one of forty under forty.

Coming from a modest background, Jake still struggled to grasp his wealth. Where some guys might go crazy and start buying everything they couldn’t afford growing up, Jake did the opposite. His sister Candace made fun of him about it all the time and had taken to calling him Scrooge.

“Better cut it out or I’ll take back your house,” he often told her. Her house, a decently sized family home in Lake Forest, had been his other big purchase. Candace’s husband Leo, who had a great job, had been against the idea at first, but it didn’t take much to convince him. Jake won him over by convincing Leo that he needed space to keep Layla and his Range Rover. Jake had an extra garage built at the back of the property for them and drove a nondescript Camry around the city.

Making life easier for Candace and Leo and Jake’s two nieces meant everything to Jake. After he and Candace lost both parents in a car wreck when they were in their early twenties, they’d been incredibly close. He talked to her almost every day and spent as much time as he could with his nieces Ella and Jamie.

Matt ran a hand along Layla’s hood, then used the bottom edge of his flannel shirt to wipe the fingerprints away. “We can give you a ride to the shop,” he said. “I could tow you, but this lady needs the star treatment. A rope and a hitch won’t do.”

The thought of Layla bouncing along behind the pickup truck, tethered by rope almost made him shudder. Jake looked up and down the road. “I can’t just leave her here. I guess take me to the mechanic, then. We can’t just call?”

“We’re in a dead zone. Do you want to wait out here alone? I could leave you in the heat, if you want.”

Jake took a last look at Layla. “I guess not.”

“She’ll be fine out here,” Matt assured him as the three of them got into the front seat of the truck. Jake found himself somehow in the middle seat of the truck between Matt and Slim.

“You’re lucky you saw us,” Matt said as he started off toward town. “Nobody else will be along this road for hours. What were you doing out here?”

“Uh...scenic drive.”

Not completely a lie. But very few people in Lucky knew what was going on and that’s the way they liked to keep it until it was a sure thing. Xander insisted on the corporate jet for most company travel, but on what Jake called the final sweep, he took a car—usually Layla—and did the drive himself. The area, the surrounding areas, and anything within a twenty-five-mile radius. Looking at the space, getting a final vision for the project, and less often, putting out any fires. Xander handled almost everything involving people while Jake, a raging introvert, took care of the planning and development of the projects. Jake wasn’t shy, but awkward and not as polished as he needed to be for the kind of deals Obsidian handled.

Their complementary skills made them a great team. While just an intern, Jake’s vision and attention to detail garnered Xan’s attention. Xan paid off his mountain of student loans from Northwestern and gave him a job. Three years later, they were full-on partners, owning 51% of Obsidian Development, a Fortune 500 company. Xan was somewhere between his best friend and a mentor. Everything Jake touched seemed to turn to gold, but he needed Xan’s business savvy and ability to network. Xander pushed him farther than Jake would have gone without his guidance. In a feature in Forbes the year before, much to Jake’s embarrassment, they’d been given the nickname the Billionaire Land Barons.

“Beer?” Slim held out a can, dripping with condensation.

“What’s the open container law here?” Jake asked.

Slim and Matt began to laugh. They laughed so hard that they couldn’t answer. Jake’s cheeks burned and he took the beer from Slim. Popping the top, he downed it in a long gulp. He hadn’t realized how hot and thirsty he was.

But that’s not why he took the beer and he knew it. He grew up a poor, fat kid with red hair—a perfect target. He still had red hair, though it had mellowed from a fiery red into a coppery brown. Just before college he had started swimming and now had the broad shoulders, tapered hips, and taut, muscular body of someone who lives in the pool. Now he had more zeroes than he needed in his bank account, righting all three of his wrongs. Too bad he’d never think of going to a high school reunion. He was the ultimate success story, but the insecurities were harder to shake.

“Thirsty?” Matt said.

Jake burped and they laughed again. But it wasn’t unkind and Jake smiled too. “Guess so. Is it always this hot?”

“This ain’t hot,” Slim said.

“Oh,” said Jake. He couldn’t imagine what mid-summer would be like. The air was so humid it was hard to breathe. But Matt had the windows down and he and Slim seemed unaffected. Jake could feel sweat soaking through the back of his T-shirt. He wanted another beer just to put the cold can on his face, but knew they’d probably laugh at that too.

In about fifteen minutes they pulled off the road and onto the small stretch of downtown. Jake had already passed it by earlier: a few restaurants, a diner, antique shops, a pawn shop. Everything looked as though it needed a good dusting off. Or a bulldozer.

With his plans in mind, he saw a totally different Main Street in a year: posh clothing stores, five-star dining, flowerboxes in windows, Christmas lights twinkling in trees.

He had completely missed seeing the mechanic, which was at the end of Main Street, across from a diner. The smells coming from that place made his stomach growl loudly.

“They’ve got the best eggs and burgers,” Matt said.

“And breakfast,” Slim said. “All-day breakfast.”

Jake was more interested in getting Layla into the shop as Matt pulled the truck up to the front. Slim stayed in the truck, but Matt walked with him into the tiny front office. A fan pushed hot air slowly around the room. Matt leaned against the empty counter and then walked through a side door into the garage. Jake followed him. There were two cars in the bays and a few guys in grease-stained coveralls working. Country music played from a transistor radio on a messy desk.

“Yo, Greg!” Matt shouted.

A man with a full beard and an unlit cigar dangling from his lips came around the front of a minivan in the closest bay. He shook Matt’s hand.

“The truck okay?”

“She’s running great since the last tune-up. We’ve got a real beauty for you today. Need to tow her in.”

Matt nodded his head to Jake, but Greg glanced at him and kept talking to Matt. “What kind of car?”

“Aston Martin,” Matt said.

Greg tucked the cigar in his front pocket and reached out to shake Jake’s hand. “Well, now. I’ve never seen one of those. You know it’ll be days before we can get parts if it needs them.”

“Hopefully it will be a small thing,” Jake said. But it never was with Layla. She was a total diva. Demanding, hard to please. When she had problems, they were not small.

Slim must have gotten hot or bored in the car, because he sidled into the garage and leaned against the counter.

“You got a place to stay?” Slim asked, joining the conversation like he’d been there all along.

“I was supposed to be staying at L’Auberge this week.”

“What’re ya doing all the way up here then, boy?” Greg said.

“Just out for a drive,” Jake said. So far, this excuse was working just fine. “I don’t want to be far from her, so I’ll probably just stay close. Are there any hotels or bed and breakfasts?”

Greg and Matt both looked at him. Slim snickered.

“Son, look around you,” Greg said. “This is Lucky, Texas, not New York City. You see any hotels out on your drive? You’re stuck for now.”

“Where’s the closest town with a hotel?”

Slim, Matt, and Greg all laughed now. “Son, you’d have to head to Orange. And no one wants to stay in Orange.” Greg spit on the cement floor.

“What’s wrong with Orange?”

“Let’s just say that Lucky and Orange don’t get along and leave it at that,” Matt said.

Not for the first time, Jake thought about how strange Texas was. Small towns in general were always interesting, but, true to its reputation, everything was bigger in Texas.

“I’d like to get my car, if you don’t mind. I’ll figure out where to sleep later.”

“Hey,” Greg said, “Shelby’s place! Isn’t she renting out that trailer?”

The name Shelby made Jake picture an older woman with thinning white hair and one of those big floral house dresses, the kind his grandma used to wear.

Matt narrowed his eyes and looked to Jake. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Jealousy came off him in waves. So, Shelby was not an old woman.

“It’s perfect!” Greg said. “And besides that, it’s the only place around. I can call her.”

“She’s got it listed on that AirB thing,” Slim said.

“You mean AirBNB?” Jake asked.

He opened the app on his phone. He often used it on the road, preferring unique places to generic hotels, especially if he could rent a whole house. There was only one listing for Lucky, Texas. A shiny silver airstream trailer, next to a lake where the sun was setting, sending reds and purples over the surface of the water and the trailer. Not luxury, but unique and private. And apparently the only thing outside of Orange, which was apparently off-limits.

“I’ll drive you to L’Auberge,” Matt said. All three men looked at him. For whatever reason, he did not want Jake going to Shelby’s. “I don’t mind. We can tow your car and then I’ll drive you down.”

Jake’s finger hovered over the Book Now button. “Is there a problem?”

“No,” Slim and Greg said.

A moment later, Matt said, “No.” It was more of a growl. He walked out of the garage. “Let’s go, Slim.”

Jake clicked the button and completed the booking, wondering if he should be concerned about Shelby. Just in the few minutes since he met him, Matt seemed friendly. Shelby must be an ex or something. Jake wanted to tell Matt not to worry. He had terrible luck with women and definitely wasn’t looking to meet someone here in Lucky.

Pocketing his phone, Jake followed Greg as he grabbed keys from a pegboard and walked out to a big wrecker outside the garage. “Let’s get you towed,” Greg said. “And then I can drop you at Shelby’s.”

“You know her?”

“Everyone knows Shelby.”

“Should I be worried? Matt seemed upset about me staying there.”

Greg gave him a sideways look and chuckled. “You look like you could take Matt if it came down to it.”

“Why would I need to—”

“Shelby’s his girl.”

“Oh,” Jake said. “Well, no need to worry about that. Not looking for love. I’m just passing through Lucky.”

“Nobody’s just passing through Lucky,” Greg said with a laugh. “People either never come or come and never leave.”

Except for me, Jake thought. Because he would definitely be leaving as soon as Layla was back on the road. The last thing he wanted was to spend more time in an area that he would be developing. There were typically two kinds of people, no matter the area or project: those who were thrilled and those who thought Jake and his company were the devil incarnate. He’d endured protests, lawsuits, and other legal battles.

“I’m going to make a quick phone call if that’s okay,” Jake said. He wanted to touch base with Xander while he still had a connection.

“Fine by me,” Greg said. “I’m not a gossip.”

Somehow, the fact that he said that made Jake suspect the opposite was true. “Xan, hey. I can’t talk long, but Layla died. I think I’ll be stuck in Lucky for a few days at least.”

“That’s not so bad. I mean, sorry about Layla. It may work out to have you there in person longer. I’ll set things up and message you. Having you there will give the board some reassurance that the bottom isn’t going to fall out of this thing. We’ve got your rep as the Land Baron to protect after all.”

“Shut up. You know I hate that reputation.”

Xander laughed. “Fine. Do your thing, then. Rent a car, get a hotel room. I’ll be in touch soon with some things we’ll need.”

“Sure,” Jake said.

“That’s my boy. Call me when things are finalized. And tell Layla she’s a bad girl with terrible timing.”

“Will do.” Jake hung up the phone.

“Sounds like you’ve got some business here, huh?” Greg said. Jake wondered if Xan was talking loud enough for him to hear.

“Oh, you know. I can work anywhere there’s wifi.”

“The internet’s not so great around here.”

“I’ve got my own hot spot,” Jake said.

Greg laughed and muttered to himself as they pulled up to Layla. “Drives an Aston Martin, has his own hot spot. Hmph.”

Layla thankfully looked just as Jake had left her.

“What were you doing all the way out here?” Greg said. “You’re lucky Matt and Slim came along.”

“That’s what they said.”

Greg whistled and walked admiringly around Layla. “She is a thing of beauty. Can I drive her once we get her going again? I’ll give you a discount for one drive.”

“Of course. But I don’t need a discount. Consider it a thank-you for taking care of her.”

Greg grinned. “Oh, I’ll take good care of your girl. Trust me on that.”

And though Jake was nervous watching her get hitched up for the tow, Greg was incredibly careful and loaded her expertly. He still couldn’t help but watch her in the side mirrors the whole drive back. He only fully relaxed when Layla was safely in the garage, being admired by the other guys.

“Your girl’s safe now. We’ll get started right away and I’ll let you know if it’s something we can fix, but I’m betting we’ll need a part,” Greg said.

“To be expected.” Jake grabbed his overnight bag and laptop backpack from Layla’s trunk. “I’m ready if you are.”

“Well, let’s get you out to Shelby’s.” Greg grinned. “She’s quite the…hostess. I think that you’ll enjoy your stay.”

Jake didn’t know what meaning was behind those words, but clearly something. He could hardly take one more surprise or new person. He just wanted a bed to crash in, but had a feeling it wouldn’t be quite so simple.