Cassidy wipes his arm across his sweaty forehead, having already stripped off the flannel he was wearing. The sun is bearing down hot on the lumber field, and time seems to be ticking by excruciatingly slowly, making Cass even more agitated than usual.

Today is meetup day, which means his boss will be coming around at some point to check on business. Business is always good. So, really, all Luca Berlusconi is doing is sticking his big nose into everyone's day to remind them who's in charge.

Fuck him.

"Taking ten," Cass mutters over to Hale, handing over the clipboard he's been carrying for the past couple of hours. "Go check on Skip. He's new, and I'm getting worried about him," he adds, walking away and tossing aside his construction hat and vest.

He enters the old, rusty trailer and takes a seat, running his hand through his wet hair and propping his boots on the desk. He flips the fan on and pulls his paperwork onto his lap. Everything is a mess. Well, not a mess. Luca would be pleased, at least. The financials look good, business is running smoothly. But really, everything is fucked.

He can't help but think about how his life took a turn years ago. Everything coming full circle feels like a cruel joke. He left his wife because his highs were more frequent than his lows. He knew he was causing her misery, and he was miserable enough for the both of them. That was his doing, his addiction. He loved her, but somewhere along the line, he forgot to love himself.

So, he left. Got clean, moved to Golden Grove when he heard about the lumber company, and now? Now, he's caught up in hiding the biggest fentanyl operation he's ever seen, run by an old Italian family that seems torn out of 'Scarface,' but this isn't a movie. This is genuinely terrifying stuff.

He exhales and rests the papers back on the desk just as Hale walks in. "There's someone here to see you, boss," he announces, offering an awkward smile. "It's a pretty lady."

Cass raises an eyebrow and stands with a grunt. Following Hale outside, he glances right, then left, and time slows.

The ring on his chain feels like it's burning hot against his skin. His jaw drops, his eyes widen, and damn, he immediately recognizes her. His wife. His very... angry-looking wife.

Still gorgeous, as if there were ever any doubt.

And yes, she's technically still his wife. Of course, they haven't seen each other in years, and he never actually went through with the divorce. Couldn't let her go—and seeing her now confirms every reason why.

Then he feels a sinking feeling because she shouldn't be here. Not at the lumber yard. Not where she could be seen.

"Who is she, Cass?" Hale inquires, but Cass is already on the move, his expression stern. "None of your damn business, Hale. Get back to work."

He strides forward, grabbing her wrist and pulling her toward the parking lot, heading back to her vehicle. "You can't be here," he grumbles, opening her car door, eager to get her out of the area. He's so close to her; he can see the vivid colors of her eyes and the silky strands of her hair. His hand leaves her wrist to cup her jaw tenderly, his thumb caressing her skin before he lets go. "Damn, you're every dream of mine in the flesh, darlin'," he remarks, stepping back.

Taking a deep breath to settle his nerves, he speaks again, "You're here to talk? Fine. I get off at six. There's a bar in town, Moonie's. We can talk there. Tell me you'll meet me there, baby."