She didn’t mind the menial work. A job was a job, after all, and she was being paid more than a waitress. Still, by the end of her little trial run, she was exhausted. Waitressing was hard, even if the restaurant was only half-full at its busiest point.
“I know I’ll like it here,” Heather replied.
Caroline smiled. The woman was kindly and had even helped out while they were understaffed. Heather had found out that she leased the building from the Winthrows, and though it was an official part of the ranch, the title of the restaurant, The Horseshoe, was all hers. That would make her mother glad, Heather thought; Nash Winthrow wouldn’t be directly profiting off her daughter’s hard work.
“We’re glad to have you,” said Caroline, as the two walked out into the sultry summer night. Great vast prairies stretched out before them; behind them, magnificent foothills rose up to the stars.
“I know it was tough today,” Caroline continued, “but honestly, we’re usually not that busy anymore. It’s worrying in the long run, but it should make for a good little job right now.”
That made Heather’s heart sink. She needed something for the long run so badly. “Why do you think business has slowed down?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
That made Caroline bite her tongue. She looked around the empty parking lot like she was making sure the coast was clear, before tapping her nose and gesturing up to the big neon sign on the road ahead. ‘Winthrow Ranch’ hummed brilliantly over the sweet prairie, casting a shadow onto the long golden grass. “It’s no secret,” Caroline said. “I have restaurants on Winthrow properties all over the country, and every one of them is hurting.” Caroline looked around again, checking for eavesdroppers. “This stays between us, but I’ve already been looking to rent-out buildings on ‘non-Winthrow’ property. It may breach our contract, just a tiny little bit, but I’m betting that, by this time next year, neither Nash or his mother will have the money or the time to take me to court.”
Heather laughed and looked around. “Good riddance,” she said, with only a hint of malice. Truth was, being back at this place made her remember all the good times—it only made her hate Nash Winthrow all the more. If he hadn’t been so selfish, then maybe the ranch could have survived.
“And don’t you worry, missy,” Caroline said, as they reached her car. “I already like you. You’re clearly a hard worker. They’ll be a place for you at any of my restaurants, they just might not be in Eden Prairie.”
Heather smiled politely and saw Caroline off. Inside, though, she was filled with worry. If The Horseshoe left Eden Prairie, she wouldn’t be able to follow it. Her place was here, with her mother. The both of them had too much debt and not enough income to just up and leave for anywhere. Her new job paid well, but not nearly enough for any kind of freedom. The only reason her and her mother weren’t already out on the street was because Constance owned their house outright. The two of them had been digging into their savings to pay for food and utilities, but if they had to add rent on top of that, Heather didn’t know how they’d survive.
She stood in the parking lot for a little while, trying to steady her nerves, before finally making her way to her car and driving home. The ride was quiet and lonely. Heather didn’t quite feel like celebrating her new job just yet—there was no security in it—so, she kept the radio off and glided through the prairie highway like a ghost. When she pulled up to her dark, quiet house, she was more than ready to just snuggle under her sheets and forget all her problems.
Constance had long since gone to bed, but she’d left a note, asking how Heather’s first day had gone.
Heather’s mother wasn’t big on technology, besides watching soap-operas and murder-mysteries on their television, she had very little interaction with the modern world. She had a cell phone, but she only ever used it in emergencies. Heather had never received a single text from her—the closest they got to texting was the little messages Constance would leave on the fridge door for her. Her mother and her father had already been old by the time they’d had Heather, and she sometimes felt more like they were her grandparents than her actual parents.
Heather scribbled a little reply and posted it beside her mother’s note, just in case she didn’t see her in the morning.
She’d been allowed to snack on food from the kitchen throughout the day, so she wasn’t hungry enough to try any of the leftovers from last night’s dinner. She just poured herself a glass of water then slunk up the stairs to bed. She was tired and worried about her future, but glad to be given some respite in the form of an important job. Even if Winthrow Ranch did go under, and The Horseshoe moved to another town, at least she’d have the title of ‘Manager’ under her belt, and a good reference in Caroline. It was the best she could hope for right now, and though it made her sad not to dream for the stars, she knew that she was quickly reaching a point in her life where she just had to be pragmatic.
She was an adult, and it was an adult’s duty to look after themselves and those they cared about. Heather could dream at night, but during the day she had to work, and that’s what she was going to do.
Caroline had been right. Heather’s first ‘official’ day on the job wasn’t nearly as hectic as the ‘training’ session that had preceded it. Through her whole ten-hour shift, the restaurant barely saw 30 people. Heather spent most of her time going through numbers in the backroom and getting to know her new co-workers.
There was a lot of gossip to be had amongst the bored employees, the biggest of which was that the big boss man, Nash Winthrow was back in town. Heather barely kept up with sports news, so she hadn’t heard about his surprise retirement before today.
“You think it’s because of how bad business is on the ranch?” Stacey, a college-aged waitress asked Lola, a recent high-school grad, as they took their break right by where Heather was checking up on some numbers on the company laptop.
“Duh,” said Lola, twirling a lock of her curly auburn hair in her fingers. “What’s he going to do if this place goes under? He’s never worked a real job in his life. He’ll be screwed without the billions his family’s ranches make for him.”
“What about all that money he’s made playing football?” Stacey pointed out. “It’s got to be more than enough to live off of.”
“Maybe for you and me,” Lola chimed in. “But Nash has basically been a billionaire since he was born, you think he knows how to live off a few measly millions?”
The two girls giggled. “God, what I could do with a few million,” they daydreamed. Heather half-listened as they listed off what they’d do with the money. “What would you do with a few million in the bank, Heather?” Stacey asked, breaking Heather from her distraction daze of concentration.
Heather smiled, but she hardly wanted to daydream about money right now. Her financial situation was far too dire to even dare to hope for some magical cure. She couldn’t get her head lost in the clouds; she knew how far the fall was. “I’d pay off all my student debt and all of my mother’s medical debt,” she finally answered, trying to stay realistic.
“Boring!” teased Lola.
Stacey laughed and shook her head at the younger girl. “Oh, just you wait, girl. You think you know everything, but Heather and I know the reality of adulthood. You want to be a waitress your whole life? That’s fine and dandy, but if you want to be something more, you’re going to need an education, and that ain’t cheap. And Lord help you if you ever get sick, this ain’t the country to do that in.” Stacey rested her hand on Heather’s shoulder. “Ain’t that right Double H?”
Heather flinched a little at the nickname. It had only taken about half an hour after she had introduced herself to the staff as Heather Hoover that the younger waitresses had dubbed her with the juvenile tag. It wasn’t that she didn’t like it, in fact, she was honored that they already liked her enough to give her a ‘nice’ nickname so quickly, but she also knew how precarious all of their employment statuses were, what with the limbo state of th
e ranch and all. She didn’t want to get too close to anybody, but, as she had learned in Boulder, it was just so nice to make new friends.
“That is right,” Heather finally replied, looking away from her computer screen and up at the two girls. “Adulting is expensive, and so is making money.”
The three of them shared a laugh at that.
“Hey, you want to come join us for a drink after work?” Stacey asked.
“Yeah, we need some new blood. Things are getting real boring around here,” Lola added.
Heather eyed Lola with faux-suspicion. “Aren’t you a little young to be going out drinking?”
Lola giggled and rolled her eyes. “I don’t have any alcohol, silly. I just sip on my Virgin Sherly Temples and gossip with the gals.”
Heather laughed. It wouldn’t hurt her to go out for once. She wouldn’t get home until after dark anyways, and her mom would already be in bed by then. She might as well make the most of her time working on the ranch. It wasn’t like she was leaving Eden Prairie anytime soon; making some local friends would be good for her. “Sure,” she conceded.
The two waitresses cheered and whoop-whooped until an entering customer forced them away from their new boss. Heather sighed and slunk down in her chair. She wasn’t entirely sure if she was quite up for making new friends just yet. The memory of her forced split with those that she had gotten close to in Boulder still haunted her. What if she forged some amazing relationships here and then was forced to leave it all behind again? She had already started over so many times before, she didn’t want to have to do it again.
Still, by the time they closed up shop and got dressed into their street clothes, Heather hadn’t worked up the guts to change her mind. One drink and a little fun wouldn’t hurt, would it?
“Where are we going?” she asked, as she locked up the front door to The Horseshoe behind her.
“Let’s go to Chacho’s!” said Lola. “I could go for a good burrito.”
“Hmm, you know what, for once, I agree with you. A little cerveza would go a mighty long way right about now,” Stacey responded.
The other two older waitresses, Melany and Ava had already left—they had children and husbands to get home too—and Heather had been informed that the three cooks were into a seedier type of night life than the two younger girls were willing to tolerate. So, it was just the three of them. Heather was fine with that; she wasn’t sure if she could handle any more anyways.
She was tired but excited. It had been so long since she had gone out with people in her age bracket. After her father’s funeral, she had taken out her uncle and her mother for a nice dinner, but after that, she’d had no one to really let loose with. Constance was wonderful, and Heather loved being around her, but she was no party animal—not that Heather was either, but sometimes she needed someone a little more outgoing than herself, just to show her how to have a little fun. Her mom was not that person, but maybe Stacey or Lola might be?
There was only one way to find out.
Chapter 5
Nash
Nash rubbed his temples and looked out of the floor-to-ceiling window in his office.
The tip of the sun was just disappearing under the horizon. A dark blue night sky blanketed the world. Nash couldn’t see a single star.
“I can’t do it,” he said out loud, but he wasn’t speaking to anyone other than himself.
“It’s risky,” replied Frenchie, who was sitting on the other side of his desk, going through the proposals left by the PR team. “But it might be our best option. We have no idea how much longer the ranch is going to last. In my opinion, we should be doing whatever we can to fix your image as quickly as possible.”
Nash turned away from the window and leaned on his desk. He grabbed a few of Frenchie’s folders and quickly rifled through them. He didn’t like the sound of anything the PR team had proposed. He hated the idea of not being genuine. Sure, he had played into his villainous role as a football player, but that was only because it made it easier to be himself off the field. If he hit hard during the game and didn’t help anyone up when they fell, then he wouldn’t have to answer any questions after it all. If he did what was expected of him when it was expected of him, then he’d be left alone... but now he’d been left far too alone. People just weren’t coming to his family’s ranches like they used to, and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that it wasn’t all his fault.
It was time he faced the music and did something he didn’t want to do.
“Do you think I can pull it off?” Nash asked.
“If you find the right person,” Frenchie breathed heavily.
Nash shook his head and chuckled. “You mean, the right person to marry? Oh, God. What have I gotten myself into?” Nash let his fingers drag down his face.
Frenchie leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. “You know, it’s not completely ridiculous. They showed you their files, it’s worked for some big-name celebrities in the past.”
“It’s worked for actors in the past,” Nash clarified. “And it worked for them because they were good at acting. I’m not an actor I’m a football player... or, at least, I was a football player... I don’t even know what I am anymore.”
Frenchie stood up and stared intently at his log-time client and friend. “You’re a good, honest man, who’s been mistaken for someone else. People have been tricked into thinking you’re something you’re not, and now the only way to change that is to trick them again. I know it’s not honest, but it’s how this has to go. We need the world to see how you really are, and if we have to put on an act just to get them to look behind the curtain, then that’s what we’ll do. It’s what we have to do. Hey, who knows, maybe you’ll even find true love.”
Nash rolled his eyes and chuckled. He sat down in his big leather chair and gazed back at his buddy. “Do you really think I could pull it off?”
Frenchie just nodded. “You’ve always figured out a way to win before.”
Nash pursed his lips. “Okay, let’s go over it.”
Frenchie looked down at a file. “You need to find a loveable, apple-pie-type, down to earth girl. Someone the average person can see as their next-door neighbour. Hey, if she’s struggling financially, that’s even better, because you’ll be able to fix it—you strike up a deal with her; if she marries you, she gets a cool million dollars. You two go on a few ‘secret’ dates, then news of your budding relationship is slowly ‘leaked’ to the press; not long after that, when the time is right, you two get engaged. You can get married in a small private ceremony or with a huge, lavish event, but it should be at the ranch, so when people think of our franchise, they think of love and happiness and dreams coming true. During all this, news of your anonymous donations to charity will start to snowball. By this time next year, you should be a modern-day hero. Problem solved!” Frenchie wiped his hands together and smiled.
Nash still wasn’t so sure. “How long would I have to stay married?”
Frenchie didn’t even hesitate; he had been pouring over the PR team’s files ever since their meeting earlier in the day. “Officially? Who knows, but probably no more than a year or two. Unofficially? You two can live in two separate houses from the moment you tie the knot, as long as you do it discreetly.”
Nash sneered at the idea of being so phony. The plan might work, if he could bear to go through with it, but it went against everything he believed. He was raised to be honest and clear, and this whole scheme was anything but that. What would his father have thought about all this?
What would he think about you losing the ranch he’d worked so hard to build...?
Nash felt stuck, like he couldn’t quite go in either direction. This was an entirely new sensation. He had always been so driven before, but now hesitation permeated his very being.
“How am I going to find a woman to go along with all of this?” he finally asked Frenchie.
Frenchie raised his eyebrow and smiled. “Well, there are a few bars
at the ranch... maybe we should go out for a drink and see who nibbles?”
Nash couldn’t help but guffaw. He hadn’t been out drinking since his college days. Did he even still know how to?
“I’m serious,” Frenchie insisted. “You employ a lot of middle-class folk here on the ranch. Our perfect girl is probably having an afterwork drink somewhere close by right now. We should take advantage of the situation.”
Nash raised his eyebrow. “You want me to take advantage of one of my employees?”
Frenchie laughed. “Oh, man. It sounds bad when you put it like that. I guess part of the agreement will have to be that she can’t work at the ranch while you two are ‘seeing’ each other, otherwise you might seem skeevier than ever.”
Nash looked past Frenchie and to the bar on the far side of his office. His stomach was a jumbled mess of nerves and uncertainty; he knew if he was going to do this, he’d have to calm himself. “How about a quick drink here before we hit the town?”
Frenchie’s grin nearly wrapped around his entire head. “Just like old times, huh?”
Nash chuckled. Frenchie was a few years older than him, but they had gone to college together. The agent had been doing his MBA while Nash was doing his thing on the field as an undergrad. They’d met at an aftergame party and instantly clicked. Both had big dreams and both were relentlessly hard working. It didn’t take long for Frenchie to drop out of school and pursue his agents licence instead. He was Nash’s first call when the college star decided he wanted to declare for the draft. Frenchie had been by his side for his whole professional life, and now they were tackling his post-professional life together. It seemed funny to Nash that they would start it off in much the same way that they had started off their personal relationship in college—with a few drinks.
Frenchie poured them each a glass of amber bourbon and they reminisced about college as Nash rifled through his office closet, looking for something more casual to wear. He always had a couple of cowboy outfits on hand, so he took two out and tossed one at Frenchie. The agent politely refused to don the get-up—he was a city boy after all—but Nash had no similar qualms. He put on a pair of dark blue Wranglers, rolled up the sleeves on a red plaid shirt, and placed a black Stetson on his head.
A Cowboy's Fake Fiancée Page 3