LITMIR.BIZ

       Chapter One

      Note to self: should you ever again decide to hang the American flag on a rusty old pole, do not wear shorts when doing so. Definitely going on her long list of “Things to Never Do Again.”

      Stuck. She was 100 percent stuck. Story of her life.

      Jill Davis clung to the metal pole on which she’d hung the flag, eyeing the ladder that had toppled to the ground with a mixture of longing and plain old disgust. Her legs were wrapped tightly around the pole, her arms clinging like it was the last box of shoes on clearance at Macy’s.

      It was a beautiful late spring day in Fortune, California, the sun shining brightly, the temperature in the mild and comfortable midseventies. Hence the shorts, which had seemed like a good idea at the time. Not so much now.

      She could shimmy down the pole, but she’d likely cut up her inner thighs doing so. Someone would come along soon. She was almost sure of it. Her new employees would be showing up in a couple of hours. Big, strong and brawny veterans from Home at Last, the nonprofit veterans employment placement agency. She had a lot of work ahead for them if she ever expected to get Wildfire Ridge’s Outdoor Adventures ready to open in a month’s time.

      She should have probably waited for them to show up and had one of them raise the flag. That would have made sense. Instead, she’d had the grand idea that she wanted them to enter onto the grounds of Wildfire Ridge and be welcomed at once by the majestic American flag.

      And now she was stuck.

      At first, she heard only a deep rumbling sound in the distance. But when Jill turned, from her unique bird’s-eye view she caught a puff of dust kicked up by a motorcycle headed up the small dry dirt road that led to their entrance. Salvation in the form of a Hell’s Angel? No matter, she’d take it. Jill blew out a breath. She was probably going to look a little silly up here. But hey, it wouldn’t be the first time in her life she’d been left hanging. See? She still had her sense of humor intact.

      The motorcycle was definitely headed her way, picking up speed as it rounded the curve. She hadn’t expected any of the four men to arrive for a couple of hours, so this might be someone else entirely. Someone curious about Wildfire Ridge. Ever since she’d been dealing with the city council, and the various hoops they made her jump through on a regular basis, curious residents would drive up the hill known for wildfires from time to time to see how much progress she’d made.

      This motorcycle rider, he or she, was probably a bit of an adrenaline junkie, being that they rode a motorcycle. Her perfect client. When the place was open and running, they’d be providing plenty of extreme sports and activities for the Silicon Valley set.

      The motorcycle slowed and the rider’s helmet tipped up, seemingly to take in the view. Now Jill could see that the rider was definitely a man. He was built like a running back, tall, with long legs that slid from the motorcycle after he shut it off. The scuffed black leather boots he wore thudded against the hard ground.

Скачать книгу