Crude Intentions

Chapter 1: The Title Defect

The window AC unit in the Goliad land office was fighting a losing battle against the sweltering Tuesday afternoon heat, but Charlie was losing her patience much faster. She was buried waist-deep in certified deed abstracts, mineral ownership chains, and right-of-way maps, her pen flying across the legal descriptions.

Then the door swung open.

He didn't knock. He didn’t wait to be announced by the front desk. He just marched straight into her office like he owned the mineral rights to the entire state of Texas. He wore a dark, custom-tailored suit that looked ridiculously out of place in Goliad, flanked by two nervous-looking corporate lackeys who practically tripped over their own briefcases trying to keep up.

Theo Vance. The billionaire CEO of Vance Energy. His company had been trying to steamroll its way through the county for weeks, buying up acreage like a monster playing Monopoly.

He stopped directly in front of her desk, dropped a massive, heavy leather binder of drilling site plans and lease agreements right on top of her meticulously organized title chains, and flashed a million-dollar, utterly condescending smile.

"I need your signature on these surface waivers by five o'clock," Theo demanded, his voice a smooth, impatient hum. "My rigs are sitting idle at the county line, and it's costing me six figures an hour. Let's expedite this, Ms. Schindler."

Charlie didn't flinch. She didn't offer him a seat. She slowly capped her pen, pulled the heavy leather binder toward her, and flipped straight past the glossy executive summary to the legal descriptions of the tract. The silence in the office stretched out, broken only by the aggressive rattle of the AC.

Exactly forty-five seconds later, she closed the binder and slid it back across the desk.

"I'm sure this expedited timeline looked fantastic on a glass whiteboard in Houston," Charlie said, leaning back in her chair. "But your land department is sloppy, Mr. Vance. You've got a fatal title defect."

Theo’s arrogant smile faltered. "Excuse me?"

"The Henderson tract," she said, tapping her pen against the pristine leather cover. "Your boys ran the title back sixty years and thought they were clever. If they’d gone back eighty, they’d see the mineral estate was severed in 1946, and the executive rights belong to a family trust that hasn't signed a damn thing. You don't have the legal right to drill that pad site, let alone build an access road."

Theo placed both hands on her desk, leaning in to use his height to his advantage. A dangerous, fiery spark flashed in his eyes. "Listen to me—"

"No, you listen," Charlie interrupted smoothly, taking a sip of her lukewarm coffee. "I don't care if your rigs are bleeding a hundred grand a day. As an independent landman representing the local stakeholders, I’m not signing off on a flawed leasehold. Take your paperwork back, tell your Ivy League attorneys to actually learn how to run a Texas title index, and try again."

Theo’s jaw tightened. He dropped his voice to a lethal, quiet register. "I don't get told 'no' by independent contractors, Charlie. Who runs this brokerage?"

Charlie pointed lazily toward the glass door at the back of the office. "Bob's right in there. Knock yourself out. But he can't magically invent a clean title for you either."

Theo snatched his binder off her desk and stormed into the senior partner's office without a second glance. Charlie watched through the glass as Bob looked up, his face draining of color. The poor man practically broke out in hives at the sight of a billionaire threatening to yank Vance Energy's entire local business from their firm.

Ten minutes later, Bob emerged, sweating profusely. A victorious, smug-looking Theo stood right behind him.

"Charlie," Bob stammered, frantically wiping his forehead. "Mr. Vance's project is... a massive account for this firm. If our title curative work is holding him up, he needs our best field landman on the ground to sort it out with him directly."

Charlie froze. "Bob. No."

"Yes," Bob insisted, refusing to meet her eyes. "Clear your schedule. You are going to personally escort Mr. Vance out to the Henderson tract, walk the boundaries, and help his team cure these title defects so we can get these leases executed. Now."

Theo stepped forward, buttoning his suit jacket with a smirk that made Charlie want to throw her coffee mug at his head. "Looks like we're going for a ride, Charlie. Lead the way."

The South Texas sun was blinding as they stepped out into the gravel parking lot. Theo looked around, adjusting his expensive cuffs, his eyes scanning for a sleek company vehicle. "Where is your car?"

"My new truck is in the shop getting custom work done," Charlie said, not breaking stride as she walked right past his spotless, rented black Escalade. She stopped in front of a beat-up, dust-coated farm truck that looked like it had survived three different wars, and yanked the heavy metal door open with a loud, metallic creak. "So, we're taking the backup."

Theo stopped dead in his tracks. He looked at the truck, down at his Italian leather oxfords, and back to Charlie. "You cannot be serious. We can take my SUV."

"Your tires are rated for highway driving, Theo. We're going off-road into dense brush to check old survey markers," she said, climbing into the driver's seat and cranking the engine. It roared to life with a violent shudder that rattled the side mirrors. "Get in, or I'm telling Bob you refused the field inspection."

Jaw clenched tightly enough to c***k a tooth, Theo walked around to the passenger side and opened the door. He froze.

"You'll have to move the Bantam feed," Charlie said casually, pointing to the fifty-pound sack hogging the floorboard. "And mind the stray feathers on the seat."

Looking like he was plotting a corporate takeover of her life, Theo silently shoved the heavy feed bag aside. A puff of dust immediately settled over his pristine trousers. He climbed in, his long legs cramped into the tiny cab, his knees practically touching the dashboard.

"AC is a little temperamental," Charlie added with a completely unbothered smile, throwing the truck into gear.

They bounced down the rural backroads in heavy, suffocating silence. The heat inside the cab was rising, both from the broken AC and the sheer fury radiating off the billionaire sitting inches away from her.

Then, the sky cracked open.

It happened the way it only does in South Texas—one minute the sun was blistering, and the next, a wall of black clouds rolled over the plains. The downpour hit the truck like a sheet of solid water, deafening against the metal roof.

"Can you even see the road?!" Theo yelled over the roar of the rain.

"It's not the visibility I'm worried about!" Charlie shouted back, gripping the steering wheel as the dirt road instantly dissolved into slick, thick gumbo mud.

The back tires lost their grip. Charlie spun the wheel, trying to correct the slide, but the heavy farm truck fishtailed violently. With a sickening lurch, the passenger side tires slid straight off the packed center and plummeted deep into a waterlogged ditch.

The engine whined, sputtered, and died.

Silence instantly crashed over the cab, save for the frantic, heavy pounding of the rain on the glass. The air felt immediately thicker, the cramped space suddenly shrinking by half as the windows began to fog up from their breath.

Theo slowly turned his head to look at her. They were angled awkwardly in the ditch, forcing his broad shoulder to press firmly against hers. The arrogant smirk was completely gone from his face, replaced by a dark, intense stare that sent an unwelcome jolt of electricity straight down her spine.

"Tell me," Theo murmured, his voice a low, dangerous rumble in the tiny, steamy cab. "That we are not stuck out here."

Charlie swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was. "We're stuck."