Alone with You

by Debbi Rawlins

  Lexy shot him an I’ll-be-damned-if-I’ll-answer-to-you look, which promptly shut him up. It had never mattered that he was older. She’d been stronger, more outspoken, and he’d rarely challenged her. Maybe that was the reason he felt threatened by her return. “Thank you, Norma,” she said, taking her first sip. “This is perfect.”

  “Let me know if you need anything else.” She addressed Lexy, ignoring the two men, then pushed the cart to the side and left the office.

  Her father’s attention returned to the résumé, his eyes giving nothing away when he finally glanced up. “An account exec? You must’ve been bored.”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact.” Her own fault. That’s what he was thinking, and he wasn’t wrong.

  “So what brings you back now?” He leaned back in his black leather chair and regarded her over steepled fingers.

  “I’ve always wanted to work for the company. But you already know that.”

  He smiled a little. “I thought perhaps you’d decided otherwise. After all, your call came out of the blue.”

  “I was let go from Mattheson and Myers.” She leaned forward to set down her coffee. Knowing better than to risk marking the mahogany, she thought it fitting to leave the cup and saucer on her Stanford transcripts. It still rankled that he’d asked for them. “The company signed a new client who they believed would consider my employment a conflict of interest.”

  “Ah. A former customer of ours, I presume?”

  “I don’t know. They kept the name confidential.”

  Harrison snorted. “So we’re the consolation prize?”

  Lexy swiveled around to look him directly in the eye. “Is that what you think?”

  “Don’t turn this back on me.” His face reddened. “I worked here every summer during college and grad school, then started full-time the day after I got my Harvard degree. And I’ve busted my ass for this company every day since.”

  She knew he’d throw in Harvard. “You can work hard or you can work smart. I didn’t make that choice for you.” They’d engaged in a mild rivalry at prep school. She’d had the better grades, while he’d always studied much harder. She pressed her lips together before taking a deep breath. “Look, Harrison, I know you’ve earned your place here. I’m simply looking for the chance to earn mine.”

  He blinked, then looked away.

  Lexy knew her father was watching them. He’d encouraged their competitiveness as children. She hoped he didn’t still consider it a good idea. Ignoring him, she addressed her brother. “You mentioned branching out in other areas. Tell me about it.”

  Harrison sipped his coffee, his brow furrowed, clearly torn over whether to trust her or not. The realization made her sad.

  Finally, he cleared his throat, made eye contact again. “Sports. Equipment, outdoor gear, that sort of thing, but also team ownership. The consumer’s consciousness has been raised to return to American products. I’m sure you’re aware that we took several hits from the media over sending jobs abroad.” He shrugged as if his solution was a no-brainer. “What’s more American than baseball or football?”

  She wasn’t sure what to say. This was quite a departure from their grassroots business of brand foods and paper products, and eventually, real estate. Not just that, but she didn’t understand how owning a sports team made the company more patriotic.

  “Alexis, you look surprised.”

  She turned to her father while she searched for the right words. The last thing she wanted to do was second-guess Harrison. “Frankly, I am. But it’s an interesting concept. I’d like to hear more.”

  Her father’s laugh was brief and without humor. “You want to earn a place at The Worthington Group, then speak your mind. God knows you’ve never had any trouble before.”

  He was right, and while she could grovel a bit, she wasn’t about to change who she was. “The public isn’t wrong. We should be keeping more jobs at home. Providing American jobs was part of the foundation this company was built on. That being said, I’m not clear yet as to how sports will complement the company’s brand.”

  She didn’t bother to look at her brother. Tension radiated from him and she didn’t doubt he placed the blame for this farce at her feet. Then again, she could’ve blindly endorsed his plans in a show of solidarity. But that wasn’t in her nature. She liked to know the facts. Explore every angle. Make sure she was in control before facing off with Marshall Worthington.

  “Tell you what,” he said, pushing her résumé toward her. “I’ll give you a chance to see for yourself. Harrison has someone working on a campaign for a men’s fragrance line that’s positioned to tie in to the sports theme. What is it—” he glanced at Harrison “—a cowboy calendar that women are supposed to vote on?”

  “A calendar.” Lexy sighed. She couldn’t help it. Yes, the idea of a beefcake calendar made her want to gag, but equally revolting was her father’s lack of pretense. He was determined to drag her through the mud before giving her a serious position.

  “That’s Karina’s project,” Harrison said, his voice tight and angry. “She doesn’t need any help.”

  “Isn’t the photo shoot scheduled for next week?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s my understanding that she has yet to sign the final candidate.”

  Harrison frowned. He was probably thinking the same thing as Lexy. Why would their father even know something so trivial? “You did set stringent parameters.” Harrison set his cup and saucer down clumsily. “The top-seed rodeo stars aren’t convinced that endorsing a fragrance is a smart move. Yet.”

  That in itself should’ve given Harrison his first clue, Lexy thought, but kept silent.

  “I made it clear. We play in the big leagues or we don’t play at all.” Her father’s chilly gaze bore into Harrison’s.

  Lexy’s eyes were the same color blue but she fervently hoped they never looked that cold and hard. “I still don’t understand what you want from me,” she said, even though she had the horrific feeling she knew exactly what he intended.

  “You’ve always been quick on your feet, Alexis. And quite persuasive. A week should be sufficient for you to find an acceptable candidate so we can finally put this—” he waved dismissively “—business to rest.”

  “You never intended to let me see this project through.” Harrison stood, flushed with anger. “Did you?”

  Annoyance flashed across their father’s face. “Have you ever known me to vacillate? You asked, I said yes. The ball’s in your court. I’m even offering your sister to help you.”

  “And if I don’t want her help?”

  He leaned back, an amused gleam in his eyes. “Then perhaps I should give her your office and leave you free to run all the fool’s errands you want.”

  Lexy stared down at her clasped hands. Could this meeting be any more dreadful? She couldn’t look at Harrison, even though she felt awful for him. Their father had always been a stern taskmaster, but he hadn’t been cruel.

  Harrison had played the dutiful son, attended Harvard, resisted his odd penchant for women who many would consider tacky and inappropriate. After school he’d taken no time to blow off steam but immediately joined the company. He didn’t deserve this treatment.

  Knowing this, she still said nothing in his defense. She simply allowed the silence to fester. Until Harrison left the office without another word. Only then did she look up. “Was that really necessary?”

  “Don’t tell me you’re getting soft.”

  That line in the sand? She could feel her toes right up against it. God, she really should tell him to keep his job, that she no longer wanted it. But she couldn’t face the growing list of creditors. “Fine. What’s next?” she asked, lifting her chin.

  “Go to Human Resources and fill out the necessary paperwork. Then I suggest you get out there and
find the right cowboy.”

  Lexy didn’t say another word as she rose and let herself out. Human Resources? Really? For God’s sake.

  Norma was waiting for her. “I knew he’d pull something like this,” she said, and waved a hand when Lexy smiled. “Of course I was listening. I had a feeling he was up to no good and I wanted to be prepared. Right after you called last week he asked me to check on the status of the calendar...which we both know he doesn’t give a tinker’s damn about.” She slipped around her desk. “When I told him they were having trouble finding the last man, he seemed mighty pleased. So I asked myself, what is the old goat up to?”

  Lexy watched her pull a manila folder from her bottom drawer and then motion for Lexy to follow. They walked quickly to the elevators and got into the first private car.

  “This man’s endorsement contract with us expires in just under two weeks,” Norma said, holding up the folder. “Harrison signed him for that ridiculous Sundowner accessory line that failed. But the guy is perfect. He’s a bareback bronc rider who’s won two world championships, gold buckles, million-dollar purses, the whole thing. I remembered him because my Henry is such a big rodeo fan. This Tanner fellow is over thirty and on the downslide right now so maybe he’ll do it.” Norma passed her the folder. “Worth a try.”

  “Why didn’t you give this to the woman who’s in charge of the project?”

  “Frankly, I’d hoped I was wrong and your father wouldn’t send you on a wild-goose chase just to show you who’s boss. It pains me to see him treat you this way.” She squeezed Lexy’s hand. “If it had turned out I’d misread Marshall, I would’ve given Harrison the file. But Karina?” Norma sniffed. “I do not care for that woman.”

  Lexy grinned. “Norma, you’re the absolute best.” The elevator doors slid open and Lexy stuffed the folder into her purse. If her father expected failure, she couldn’t wait to disappoint him.

  2

  LEANING ON A cedar post and watching the last saddle bronc event, Will Tanner muttered a curse when he saw his friend go flying over the mare’s head. Charlie hit the ground, landing hard on his ass, but jumped up quick as a jackrabbit. The crowd roared from the stands, surging to their feet with applause when Charlie whipped off his hat and waved it. He’d been around the circuit for a long time and was a fan favorite, even when he was losing. Something that happened too often lately. Just like with Tanner.

  “That ol’ guy sure can take a lotta punishment.” Clay stood next to him, one foot propped on the bottom rail. He reached in his jeans’ pocket, glanced at his fancy iPhone, then looked at Tanner. “You been busted up pretty good in your day. How many bones have you broken?”

  In your day.

  The words were as irritating as a yipping coyote.

  Tanner squinted at the fresh-faced kid who was barely twenty. Probably only started shaving last year. Didn’t stop him from trying to grow one of those dumb little soul patches. “Enough,” Tanner said, turning back to see Charlie limp to the gate, watching for the scores to go up.

  He was only thirty-four, a year older than Tanner, and had the good sense to announce that after this year he was done rodeoing. It was gonna be strange following the tour without Charlie. For over twelve years, even when they hadn’t traveled or bunked together, their paths had regularly crossed. But that’s the way it was with most of the veteran riders. They’d all played poker together, got drunk together and chased women. Until they started winning gold buckles and didn’t have to do the chasing anymore.

  Clay’s thumbs worked feverishly on the cell’s keypad. Tanner still hadn’t gotten the hang of texting. Hell, half the time he couldn’t remember to turn on his relic of a phone. When he did, it usually needed charging.

  “So where you headed next?” Clay asked, his attention focused on the small screen until he finished his message and stuffed the iPhone back in his pocket. He caught Tanner’s frown. “I was just tweeting my scores.”

  Tanner nodded like he understood. This new breed of cowboy was something else. They drank protein shakes instead of beer, fretted over their exercise regimens and sat around discussing their marketability.

  Damn, he was gonna miss Charlie. The two of them had both come from flyspeck towns and started young, before iPhones and Facebook and Twitter took over the world. Maybe they should retire together and make T-shirts and bumper stickers that read Real Men Don’t Tweet.

  “Where did you say you’re going?” Clay asked again.

  “New Mexico.” Tanner backed away from the railing, adjusting his Stetson and peering up at the clear Montana sky. He had a few hours before nightfall. Enough time to get on the road and find a place to park his trailer overnight. No sense sticking around. His scores couldn’t carry him to the next round. “You?”

  “I’m riding in Wyoming in two weeks. My sister’s got a ranch in Colorado. I might hang out there in the meantime.” Clay jerked a look somewhere over Tanner’s shoulder. “Unless I get a better offer.” Before he could turn and see what had put the cocky grin on Clay’s face, the kid said, “Look sharp, old man. I believe that lady’s trying to get your attention.”

  Tanner swung toward the parking lot in time to see a leggy blonde in skin-tight jeans wave. He smiled and waved back. Maybe he wouldn’t be so quick to leave tonight.

  “No, not Ariel,” Clay said, unwrapping a stick of gum. “She’s waiting for me. The other one.”

  “Where?” Unlike his stiff back and shoulders, his vision was just fine and he couldn’t see another living soul.

  “Ariel’s kind of blocking her, but she’s behind the fence to the right.”

  Tanner squinted and saw part of a female outline fading into the dark SUV behind her. She was on the short side, brown hair, pulled back, sunglasses taking up half her face and dressed kind of stodgy in a navy blue blazer and matching slacks. “What makes you think she’s waiting for me?”

  “I figured she was looking to interview you for that AARP magazine.” Clay laughed.

  Tanner knocked off the smart ass’s hat, then chuckled when Clay had to scramble to catch the Stetson before it blew too far. “It ain’t right you trying to make a man feel over the hill at thirty-three. You just wait...your time will come, kid. Sooner than you think.” At least it had for Tanner. If he stuck it out for two more years, half his life officially would’ve been spent rodeoing.

  He had no regrets. Even if he’d had the money for college he wouldn’t have gone. His younger brother was the one with a head for learning, and he was glad he’d been able to send him to a good university. Doug had even gone on to law school, courtesy of Tanner’s winnings. He considered the money well spent.

  “Why the hell did you have to do that in front of Ariel?” Clay brushed off the hat and set it back on his head.

  Tanner slid another look at the blonde, her teeth gleaming an unnatural white. The shorter brunette had moved closer but the high chain-link fence prevented her from approaching. Other women had gathered near the exit, most of them buckle bunnies, but also a few moms trying to get autographs for their youngsters.

  This was the part he dreaded lately. Signing autographs wasn’t a big deal. He’d never minded, especially when it was for kids, but it felt a lot better to scrawl his name when he was scoring high and taking home prize money. At other times it was a mob scene and all he wanted was to get to his trailer and let a hot shower pelt his aching body.

  Today wasn’t bad. His shoulder hurt less than it had all week. Meaning he wouldn’t mind some feminine company. The redhead standing by herself caught his eye. She was just his type. Tall, lean, not too skimpy in the chest department, and he didn’t give one damn that her fancy Charlie 1 Horse hat and satin-trimmed Western shirt were just for show. He was gonna like her a whole lot more without them on.

  “I’m taking off,” he said, keeping an eye on the redhead. He wanted to get
to her before one of the other guys did.

  “You’re not waiting for Charlie or Bryce?”

  “Nah, they’re both headed for Texas.” Something Tanner had thought about doing. His grandparents lived in Texas but he’d seen them last month when he’d done some repairs around the ranch while enjoying Nana’s home cooking. He made a point of seeing her and Pop regularly. They were more like parents to him and Doug, taking them in after their mother had been killed. They hadn’t even asked for a penny of child support from his old man. Probably knew the bum wouldn’t have coughed up anything, anyhow. “See ya around, kid.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Clay shot a look toward the fence. “Don’t even think about stealing Ariel,” he said with a faint grin that didn’t hide his worried expression.

  “She’s too young for me.” Tanner clapped him on the back. “Anyway, I don’t poach.”

  “Yeah, I know you don’t. Not like some of those other guys who have gold buckles.”

  Tanner smiled, then strolled toward the exit. He knew who Clay meant but no way would he get into a conversation about it. None of his business. He kept to himself when it came to matters of politics, religion and sex. And Betsy. Anyone who knew him the tiniest bit knew better than to disrespect his fifth wheel. A lot of the guys drove around in fancy buses equipped with everything from satellite dishes to hot tubs. Some even had hired men or relatives to drive them around. Not him. He and poor rattling Betsy had been together for ten years now. And he had every intention of driving her to his last rodeo.

  He slipped through the gate and got close enough to see that the redhead had a real nice smile and sexy green eyes that warned him he’d have to watch himself. Though he’d like to think he was too old and wise to do anything stupid, he’d been thrown off guard a time or two by a green-eyed female.

  Before he reached her, two boys and their mom bushwhacked him. Nodding politely, he asked their names, and signed his across the bottom of a magazine picture taken of him at the San Antonio Stock Show. He’d always appreciated the fans, but nowadays, he prized their loyalty all the more. He let the boys inspect his buckle and answered a question about where he kept the gold ones while he slyly scoped out the redhead.