Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Travis, you’re not thinking like a winner,” Weston banged his hand on the table.
“Like hell I’m not,” Travis countered, voice rising.
Tension had been building all week and had finally spilled over at dinner.
“Guys, Dax is asleep upstairs,” Elaine scolded.
She was on pins and needles too, expecting the worst every day when she rushed to the mailbox. So far Lawson hadn’t gone on the offensive, but their conversation kept ringing in her ears. They just had to get through the next four days in one piece, but everyone was exhausted and on edge.
“You need to sew this up, Travis, and to do it you’ve got to go negative.”
Travis crossed his arms, triceps bulging under his shirt. “I won’t. I have a reputation to uphold in the community. I won’t resort to mudslinging.”
