Impossible Love (YOSEMITE RANCH #1) by Gracie Owens EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Gracie Owens
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 4.6 MB
- Price: Free
Victoria
I poke my head out of the jet’s passenger door and take my first look
around. I hope our pilot landed in the right spot, since this is where I plan to
make my dreams come true. Right here in the middle of Bumfuck, Nevada.
I carefully step out. I do everything carefully, precisely. In my line of
work, if I’m not paying close attention to the details, I don’t succeed. If I don’t
succeed, my company doesn’t succeed. And then I don’t get what I want.
And what I want—more than anything else—is to make this deal, make
my father proud, and make partner.
I take a moment to look around. San Diego it’s not.
This airport, if it can even be called that, is a dusty postage-stamp-size
place with no more than a shack of a terminal and a handful of hangars to
park planes. But I’m impressed that they have any kind of airport at all. If
“nowhere” was pinned on a map, this would be it.
From the air, I tried to pick out Yosemite Ranch but got lost by the vast
expanse of desert, the endless miles of grazing lands, gorges, thick forests, and
enormous mountains. Now that I’m on the ground, I decide that it’s actually
quite pretty, in a rough and dangerous way. Just not my cup of tea.
One of the pilots takes my hand. He helps me down the steps that lead
from the corporate jet to the tarmac. The instant my five-inch heels contact
the cracked surface, a gust of dry wind nearly knocks me over. I have to
sidestep to regain my balance. Another gust slaps my long hair into my face. It
gets stuck in my lipstick.
Dammit. I can’t walk into an important meeting looking like The Joker
from Batman. I have no choice but to become one of those women, fixing my
lipstick in public. I can’t stand those women.
I’m the kind of woman who’s always put together, calm and in control.
I’m the proverbial swan who glides along the surface of a still pond, elegant
and poised to the observer while her feet churn as fast as they can under the
surface. Always under the surface.
Don’t sweat, Victoria—it attracts the sharks.
That’s what my father told me when I was eight years old, and he is a
man who practices what he preaches. Never once have I seen him sweat. In
fact, I’ve watched him morph into the biggest stone-cold shark in the tank,
taking Renaissance Empowered from a small, family-run commercial
developer to a multi-billion-dollar private equity powerhouse.
I’ve always looked up to him. I’ve always wanted to be like him.
I repair the lip smear with the camera on my mobile phone, then toss it
back into my Birken bag. I slip on my sunglasses. I take a step away from the
plane and my heel gets stuck in a crack in the asphalt. It may be broken.
I don’t need this crap. I’ve been on the ground exactly thirty seconds and
already I’m falling apart. I hope it’s not some sort of omen, a warning of
complications to come.
I don’t like complications.
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