Rodeo Romance, Book 4
A Sweet Western Holiday Romance
by
USA TODAY Bestselling Author
SHANNA HATFIELD
Barreling Through Christmas
Copyright © 2016 by Shanna Hatfield
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. Please purchase only authorized editions.
For permission requests, please contact the author, with a subject line of “permission request” at the email address below or through her website.
Shanna Hatfield
[email protected]
shannahatfield.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Flourless Chocolate Cake
Author’s Note
Books by Shanna Hatfield
Surrounded by hunky cowboys, what’s a girl to do?
Advertising executive Paige Porter heads to Las Vegas for the finals rodeo with one goal in mind: Find a cowboy with the perfect… um… genes to model her client’s new western clothing line. After covertly watching hundreds of men walk by, Paige finally finds the cowboy with her ideal assets. Before she can approach him, he disappears into the crowd. She’s left with a picture of his back pockets and an annoying rodeo clown who makes her wish she’d never left home.
Cooper James lives life to the fullest, determined to make people smile with his own special brand of humor. As a rodeo clown and barrelman, he loves engaging the crowd and getting a laugh, even if it means embarrassing an uptight ad executive who’s desperately searching for an idyllic model. Intrigued by the woman, Cooper has no intention of telling her he recognizes the denim-clad backside in the photo she’s flashing all over town.
Laughter, light-hearted fun, and love ensue in this sweet holiday western romance.
To those who lighten hearts
with their laughter…
Special thanks to JJ Harrison
for answering my many questions,
and being so helpful and kind.
You are an amazing Rodeo Entertainer!
Chapter One
December
Portland, Oregon
“With all due respect, sir, you need a cowboy.” Paige Porter ignored the venomous glare from her boss and shocked expressions of her peers generated by her simple statement. A confident smile assured the client across the table she knew her business better than most.
Determined to make the man see reason, she turned the stack of glossy images in front of her around and slid them closer to Elliott Flynn, billionaire playboy with a penchant for fashion design.
The pale oval of her manicured nail tapped against the top photo. A thin male model, long blond hair twisted on top of his head in a messy bun, sported a faint growth of scruff on his cheeks. He gazed over his shoulder in a manner Paige assumed the photographer intended to appear seductive, but came off looking more like he had a bad case of indigestion. The jeans sagging over his flat hindquarters and the shirt limply draping from his narrow shoulders made him appear like a little boy who’d snuck into his father’s closet.
Her index finger settled on the back pocket of the jeans in the photo. “You need a cowboy, Mr. Flynn. The apparel is amazing and the price point is spot-on, but it’s no wonder sales fell flat in your test markets. To carry off this line, you need a rugged persona, not an urban model. The fabrics and styles all make me think of someone a little wild, someone who lives a western lifestyle. A cowboy, the right cowboy, could breathe life into your designs.”
Elliott Flynn scowled as he stared at the photograph. His silence settled over the room, influencing the other occupants to remain so still, Paige wondered if her coworkers had stopped breathing.
The angry daggers Joe Connor, her boss, shot her direction confirmed he was still alive, although not particularly well. He’d invited her and three other members of their advertising team to attend the meeting with Mr. Flynn.
The designer had come to the Connor Creative advertising agency desperate to salvage the clothing line he’d spent three years developing. He wanted them to rebrand his designs and create a successful promotional campaign.
The previous evening, Paige had poured over the sketches, photographs, market analysis reports, and failed promotions Joe had given her to review. She’d taken home half a dozen pieces of the clothing Elliott had sent over to the agency and tested each seam, button, and zipper for durability, function, and style.
Long into the night, she’d tossed and turned, pondering the ideal model for the clothing line. She awoke with a vision of a cowboy filling her thoughts.
Rarely wrong when it came to finding the perfect model for her clients’ advertising campaigns, she knew she was right in urging Mr. Flynn to move away from an urban look and transition into western apparel.
The quiet became nearly unbearable before Joe cleared his throat and turned to Mr. Flynn. “Sir, please disregard Miss Porter’s rash suggestion. She is…”
Elliott lifted his gaze to Paige’s and grinned. “She’s absolutely brilliant!” The man smacked the palm of his hand on the conference table with a resounding thud.
As he glanced from Paige to the potential client, Joe’s eyes widened in surprise. “Yes, she is,” he said, giving Paige a slight nod, signaling her to continue sharing her thoughts.
“Thank you, Mr. Flynn.” She smiled and reached for the stack of photographs again.
“Call me Elliott, Paige.” Elliott handed her the images with an interested gleam in his eyes. “Now, I’d like to hear what you have in mind.”
Paige spread out half a dozen images, all of urban male models. “Do you see how the clothes appear ill-fitting on them, sir?” She pointed to a particularly baggy pair of jeans on a model. “Nothing about this looks like it goes together.”
“Agreed,” Elliott said, leaning closer. “What do you suggest?”
“This,” Paige said, opening a folder and placing a large glossy image on the table. A tall, muscular man wore a pair of Elliott’s jeans, doing a much better job of filling them out than any of the models used in previous advertisements.
“He’s not classically handsome, but has a rather rough appeal. I half-expected to see a John Wayne look-alike.” Elliott stared at the broad-sho
uldered model and a slow smile broke out across his face. “Is this the man you have in mind to model my line?”
“No, sir. I merely wanted to illustrate what a different body type could do for your apparel. What I propose is embarking on a quest to find the perfect” — Paige hesitated a moment, uncertain how to express her thoughts without making her coworkers snicker — “representative of your amazing styles.”
A sly wink from the designer left Paige slightly unsettled.
He studied the brawny man in the photograph in front of him. “You want to conduct a search for the perfect caboose for my jeans. Is that it?”
A slight blush added pink color to her cheeks. “Yes, sir. That is correct.”
“Fantastic. How long do you think it will take?” Elliott leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers together, continuing to stare expectantly at Paige.
She glanced down at the notes she’d made when she sketched out her ideas for the campaign. In eighteen months, they could completely rebrand the line and launch it with a new name and style. “If we begin narrowing down criteria and put out calls for interested models, we should be able to find someone in six to eight months.”
Paige jumped in her seat when Elliott slapped his hand on the table again.
“I want to put this project on the fast track and I’m willing to pay to make that happen,” Elliott said, finally turning to Joe Connor. “I’ll hire Conner Creative to rebrand my clothing line. I want all new everything, including a brand name. And I want Paige to be in charge of the whole thing.” The man pulled up a calendar on his phone. “The biggest cowboy gathering in the world just happens to be taking place in Las Vegas right now with the national finals rodeo.” He turned back to Paige. “I’d wager every last penny I possess that you’ll find the perfect model there.”
“Oh, well, sir, I didn’t… that’s to say, I…” Paige stammered, trying to think of a tactful way to refuse to travel to Las Vegas and submerge herself in a sea of cowboys. She had no interest in leaving her pleasant little world of Portland, Oregon, to traipse through thousands of cowboys searching for one who could make Elliott Flynn’s clothing line look good.
“She’ll be on a plane down there tomorrow,” Joe said, pinning Paige with a hard glare, daring her to argue.
“Excellent,” Elliott said, rising to his feet, bringing the meeting to an end. “In fact, let’s plan on launching my new line in Las Vegas during next year’s rodeo. That gives you a year to make it happen.”
“We won’t disappoint you, Mr. Flynn. I’ll get a contract to you this afternoon and we’ll get started on making your clothing line a household name.” Joe escorted the billionaire to the door then returned to the conference room where his team awaited further instruction.
Joe took a seat at the table and looked around the room. “Everyone but Paige may leave. Research everything you can find on western clothing lines.”
Once they left, Joe leaned back in his chair and stared at Paige. “That was a gutsy move on your part, especially having someone model Elliott’s jeans. Isn’t the guy your brother-in-law?”
Paige grinned, gathering up the photographs and assorted papers on the table. “Yes. Dave wasn’t too happy about me showing up at their house at six this morning, begging him to put on the jeans and smile at the camera, but I wanted to show Mr. Flynn how good his apparel could look if he moved away from the scrawny models he’s been using.”
Joe smirked and picked up one of Elliott’s advertisements with a skinny model who wore a man bun on top of his head. “This string bean reminds me of your boyfriend. How is Dexter?”
Paige stiffened. “He’s quite well, thank you.” Her employer and boyfriend shared a strong and mutual dislike of each other. Joe had mentioned numerous times he found Dexter to be pretentious, annoying, and a wimp. Dexter claimed Joe was a throwback to times when cavedwellers roamed the earth with unenlightened ideas on everything from politics to restaurants. For the most part, Paige tried to keep her personal and professional life completely separate for the simple reason that her boyfriend and boss refused to get along.
“Gather up whatever projects you’re currently working on and bring them to my office in an hour. I’m clearing your calendar of everything except Elliott’s project from here on out.”
She gaped at her boss. “Are you serious, Joe? You’re really going to put me in charge of his campaign?”
Joe nodded. “I am. You have one shot to prove you’re management material. If you pull this off, you can write your own ticket to a corner suite in any of our offices.”
Paige stopped straightening a pile of papers. “Any office?” Her dream was to move to Los Angeles where she could take on big name clients and prove she was one of the most talented advertising executives in the country.
“Any office, with the title of director,” Joe said, rising to his feet. “I’ll have my assistant make travel arrangements. Might I assume you’ll take someone with you to Vegas?”
“Yes,” Paige answered, distracted by the prospect of moving to L.A. The sound of Joe clearing his throat brought her back to reality.
“Be sure you save all the receipts, since we’ll bill Elliott for everything.”
Paige nodded in agreement, and then Joe left the room. She hurried to her office and sank down in her leather chair.
If she could successfully pull off this campaign, she’d be set for life. Paige had no interest, none at all, in anything remotely connected to a rural existence, rodeos, or cowboys. However, for the opportunity to earn a huge promotion and move forward in her career, she’d do whatever it took to find just the right cowboy for Elliott Flynn.
Chapter Two
“Let me get this straight,” Randi Martin said, grinning at Paige. “You want me to go with you to Las Vegas for an all-expense paid trip to stare at cute butts dressed in Wranglers?”
Paige nodded.
Randi laughed. “And why is it you thought I’d turn you down?”
Paige stared at her sister. “Because you’re so happily married to Dave and I can’t imagine how this would be fun for you. I’d rather have a root canal without any medication to kill the pain than take this trip, but it’s my big chance. I can finally prove to Joe that I’m worthy of a big promotion.”
“You worry far too much about what Joe and others think, Paige.” Randi handed her a stack of plates to set on the table then turned back to the stove.
Rather than go home to her condominium, Paige drove to her sister’s house after work, knowing Randi would invite her to stay for dinner. She’d hoped to talk her into going to Las Vegas to help her find a cowboy, but her sister’s enthusiastic response caught her by surprise.
She glanced over at Randi as she took a casserole out of the oven. “Are you sure Dave won’t mind you going?”
“Going where?” her brother-in-law asked. He strode into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around his wife, giving her a warm kiss.
Disconcerted by their display of affection, Paige turned her attention back to setting the table. “I asked Randi to accompany me to Las Vegas for a week. Joe is sending me there to find a model for a new campaign that we signed today.”
“Is this the same campaign that caused you to march in here this morning and demand I wear those stupid jeans while you took photos?” Dave asked, snitching an olive out of the salad bowl Randi carried to the table.
“The very same,” Paige said, smiling at her brother-in-law. Over the four years she’d known him, he’d been a good sport about helping her whenever she needed it. He’d done everything from unclog a drain in her bathroom to dressing up in a Santa costume for a photo shoot when the model she’d hired came down sick with the flu. “Do you mind if I steal your wife for a few days?”
“I do mind, but it’ll be good for you two to get away,” Dave said, helping set the rest of the food on the table. “Why do you have to go to Las Vegas?”
Randi sat down in the chair by Dave and grinned. “Cowboys.”
/> The baffled expression on his face made the two women laugh.
When he continued to glare at them, Randi hurried to explain. “Paige is helping Elliott Flynn rebrand a clothing line from urban weenie to rugged cowboy. There’s some rodeo thing in Las Vegas and Mr. Flynn offered to pay all the expenses if Paige would go there and come back with a model.”
“Not just any model,” Paige said, helping herself to a serving of the casserole. “The perfect model for his jeans.”
Dave grinned at Paige. “And just how do you propose to find the perfect model?”
With her customary bluntness, Randi didn’t miss a beat as she blurted, “By staring at cowboy behinds, honey. I’m so excited!”
Dave studied his wife a moment, to make sure she was serious, then turned to stare at Paige with an uneasy look on his face. “That’s your game plan? Staring at men’s butts?”
“Well, not staring, exactly, and we… it wouldn’t be…” Flustered, Paige grabbed a roll and broke it open slathering it with butter. She took two bites before she remembered she’d given up gluten to support Dexter’s latest imagined food intolerance.
Annoyed by how good the warm roll tasted, especially with butter melting into every crevice of the yeasty, fragrant surface, she dropped it on her plate and looked at Dave. “I understand if you’d prefer Randi not go. It is rather, um… improper for her to help me with this project.”
Dave shrugged then kissed Randi’s cheek. “I don’t mind if she goes. She can stare at all the cowboy butts she wants as long as that’s all she does. I trust my wife and I know you well enough, dear sister, to know you will make sure she behaves with some degree of decorum and propriety.”
Randi laughed and gave Dave’s arm a playful shove. “Since when do you care about decorum or propriety, and since when have I ever exhibited a tendency for either?”
He grinned and helped himself to more of the casserole. “Never, but there has to be a first time for everything.”
Barreling Through Christmas: (Sweet Western Holiday Romance) (Rodeo Romance Book 4) Page 1