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at it.
    “The press is hanging around here like hungry jackals trying to get an exclusive photo of Harper or, even better, an exclusive interview,” he said. “I need you to get her to do an interview so the press will back off.”
    “And you think one interview and photo shoot will get them to go away?”
    “Yes. The tabloids are only paying out for the first exclusive. After that, it’s old news.”
    “Since that’s the case, why don ’ t you ask her to do the interview?” May asked.
    “I have. She said no.” This is where he should have added in Harper ’ s turn at blackmail, but something held him back. He needed his mother ’ s help, not for her to go all mama bear and push Harper even further into a corner.
    May shrugged and took a sip of chai. “Well, that ’ s that.”
    “You don ’ t understand. ” He pushed off the railing and paced the short length of the porch, each step winding the tension tighter instead of releasing it. “The longer the press sneaks around here trying to get a photo or surprise quote from Harper, the more likely they are to discover that Garth Hampton is here.”
    “And he wouldn ’ t like that?” May took another sip of chai as if that discovery wouldn ’ t have far-reaching effects on The Retreat, his plans for expansion, and his plot for revenge.
    “Not in the least. He ’ s a fifty-year-old recovering alcoholic who just got out of rehab. The last thing he needs is the stress of dealing with the press right now. He asked for total privacy, and I guaranteed it.” He didn ’ t go back on his word. Ever.
    May cocked her head to the side and gave him a considering look. “There ’ s more.”
    “Guests are already talking, and some have checked out.” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the tightness there. “Plus, The Brasch Group ’ s team is headed here in a few weeks to finalize the expansion agreement. If they get here and see a reporter hiding in the bushes and news vans parked between the tumbleweeds, the deal will go south faster than Stone got bucked off his last bronco.”
    “And you think all the reporters will disappear once Harper talks to them.”
    “It ’ s a busy news cycle,” he said as he stopped pacing and turned to face his mom. “They ’ ll be gunning for the next big exclusive.”
    Quick, easy, and efficient, an interview was the best solution to fixing a shitty situation before it got worse. His mother had to see it. Looking into her eyes, the same shade as his own, he saw understanding dawn. Tension ebbed out of his upper back, and he rolled his neck with relief.
    “The universe is giving you an amazing opportunity here with Harper coming into your life.” May sat her empty mug down on the side table and clasped her hands together. “She ’ s what you need, so stop trying to piss her off and find another solution to your reporter problem.”
    His ulcer threatened to rip a hole right through his stomach, and his chest tightened. Fisting his hands at his side, Dodge clenched his jaw shut and inhaled a deep breath. He had to figure out what the hell his mother was talking about and why the universe according to May always seemed to fuck with his plans. Then he could clean up this mess. The fresh Wyoming air filled his lungs, and he focused on the smell of freshly mowed grass, a reminder that the deal to take The Retreat global wasn ’ t falling apart around them. Yet.
    Releasing the breath, he forced calmness into his tone that he was far from feeling. “ I don’ t want the universe ’ s help.”
    May shook her head, her straight posture melting into a slumped C . “No, you just want your revenge.”
    That cut his bluster off at the knees. “You know about that?”
    He ’ d never told her about his plans to pay his grandfather back for the way he ’ d tossed his own daughter aside. Showing the twisted old fuck that they didn ’ t need him—would never need him—had fired Dodge ’ s drive since he was sixteen