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A Cowboy's Fake Fiancée

Page 5

by Savannah McCarthy


  “How so?”

  “Well, she’s drowning in debt. Her student debt, her mother’s medical debt, you name it. She’s supporting two people and a small town’s worth of bills.”

  “We can help with that,” Nash thought out loud.

  “We can do more than just help, we can completely turn her life around... if she lets us,” Frenchie said.

  “And why wouldn’t she? Who wouldn’t take a million bucks just to pretend to be my girl? I’d be with someone I hated if it meant helping my mother out,” Nash continued.

  “Yeah, well, her hating you isn’t our only problem. It’s why she hates you.”

  Nash lifted his eyebrow. “Probably for the same reason everyone else outside of Houston does, right?”

  Frenchie shook his head. “Maybe for that reason as well, but you’ll never guess who her uncle is.”

  Nash leaned back in his chair, completely intrigued. “Who?”

  “Ernie List,” Frenchie mouthed, loud and clear.

  Nash felt his face drop. “Uh-Oh... maybe we should just find someone else...”

  “No, no, no,” Frenchie insisted. “This is perfect. We can help him out almost as much as we can help her.”

  “Would he take my help? Haven’t we tried to put in good words before?” Nash asked.

  “Maybe it will go differently this time, if it’s coming from his sweet niece.”

  Nash sighed and rubbed his eyes. “This was supposed to be simple, French. This girl sounds too complicated.”

  He heard Frenchie chuckle. “Is it because she’s not your type?”

  Nash eyed his friend suspiciously. Frenchie knew full well that the woman from last night was very much Nash’s type. It was part of what would make this whole mess all the more complicated... but also all the more convincing.

  “How do we proposition her? It’s not like I’m going to be seeing her at the bar anytime soon...” Nash asked.

  “Well, since this is going to be a business deal, it would be most appropriate to conduct it as such. I’ll call the owner of The Horseshoe and have her send the woman over. We can give her the scoop and she can let us know if she’s in or out. Just let me know if you’re in, and I’ll make it happen a.s.a.p.”

  Nash swiveled in his chair and looked out his wall-to-wall window. An ocean of golden prairie grass lapped in the gentle summer wind. Foothills rose up to the west and promised shade from the blazing sun. Nash took in a deep breath of his sterile office and only wanted to be outside in nature. He imaged being at the stable with horses, or out in the valley with the cowboys. He could even go for some good old-fashioned hay baling right now, but he knew his place was here. He could appreciate God’s splendid Earth once he’d saved his family from ruin; until then, it was all business.

  He turned back to Frenchie, who was watching him like a German Shepherd waiting for an order. Nash took one last deep breath and then nodded. Frenchie understood.

  The agent took out his cell phone and began to dial. Nash stood up and started to pace. He sauntered over to the window and gazed down at his ranch. It was beautiful. He’d do anything to save it.

  Suddenly, he had a thought. He turned around to Frenchie, who was still waiting for The Horseshoe’s owner to pick up.

  “What’s her name?” Nash asked.

  Frenchie smiled. “Heather Hoover.”

  Chapter 8

  Heather

  Heather rubbed her forehead and stared blankly down at the table in her backroom office.

  What had she done last night?

  She didn’t have much time to think about it, a soft knock came at her door and turned her attention away from the self-pity growing in the pit of her stomach.

  “Hey, bestie,” glowed Lola.

  Heather envied the younger woman. If only Heather hadn’t been old enough to drink, then she might never have made so many mistakes. She tried to give a warm smile for a greeting, but she could barely manage it.

  “You’re such a lightweight,” Lola teased, as she set a bag down by the door.

  “Me!?” Heather gasped. “You didn’t even drink!”

  Lola kept her warm grin. “And I feel great!”

  Heather could only laugh. She rubbed her eyes and sighed. “I’m so screwed.”

  She could hear Lola giggling by the door. “Yeah, maybe. But you’re a legend now. Everyone saw you stand up to Nash. It was pretty heroic, even if you were drunk...”

  “I wasn’t drunk!” Heather desperately tried to clarify. “Just tipsy.”

  “That was a pretty heavy tipsy,” Lola laughed.

  “I’m going to lose my job...” Heather mumbled. It hadn’t really hit her until she woke up this morning. She had told the boss of all bosses to get lost. How could she not be fired? It didn’t matter that Caroline owned the name, Nash owned the land, and he could kick out whoever he wanted.

  “I’d like to see him try. There’d be a revolt around here if he did. We tried to find you after you stormed out, but you must be as quick as a rabbit, because by the time Stacey and I got out of Chacho’s, you were nowhere to be found. We were a little worried, but we don’t have your cell number or anything. Let’s change that.”

  Lola slid her phone across Heather’s desk. It had an empty contact container opened on the screen. Heather mindlessly plugged in her details and handed Lola back her phone.

  “Nash and his friend didn’t stay long after you left, but Stacey and I did. Everyone was talking about you. When they found out we were your friends, we got a bunch of free drinks and food. It was great.”

  Heather blew air out of her nose. “Well, I’m glad you guys had a good time.” It only hit her a second later that Lola had referred to herself and Stacey as Heather’s ‘friends’. That made her feel a little better, and then almost immediately worse. Here she was, making friends again, only to be forced away from them.

  Lola tied on her apron and patted the dust away. “We did have a good time. We should do it again tonight.”

  “NO, thank you,” Heather said, loud and clear. “I might never be welcomed back on this ranch again, the least I can do for now is keep a low profile.”

  “Are you suuure?” teased Lola. “Everyone at Chacho’s was just dying to buy you a drink. Don’t you want some free stuff?”

  “I don’t want free stuff. I just want to work,” Heather sighed. She looked up at the clock that hung over the doorway. “Speaking of work, it’s about that time. Let’s get to it.”

  Lola gave Heather an exaggerated salute. “Yes ma’am,” she barked as she turned on her heels and went out into the dining hall.

  Heather watched her go, both happy to have such a good worker under her wing and sad that she was certainly about to lose her job. It wasn’t long before Stacey showed up at her door too.

  “Hey boss, sorry I’m late. Had a wild night last night,” she smirked.

  Heather could only smirk back. “Tell me about it.”

  “Oh, I don’t think I have to. I have a feeling you already know all about it.” Stacey quickly got dressed, but before she could leave the office, Heather stopped her.

  “Hey, Stacey,” she asked, hesitating a little. “How long have you worked here for?”

  “Almost two years now,” she replied.

  “Do you think I’m going to be fired?”

  Stacey thought about that for a moment. Much like Heather, she probably hadn’t been of the mind to think much about anything last night. Now was the time for retrospection. “I don’t know,” Stacey shrugged. “I know Caroline likes to go to bat for her employees, but I’ve also never seen anyone call out the literal head honcho around here, not that they’ve had the opportunity to. Nash is only back right now because he retired. No one’s really had the chance to do what you did, but, boy, am I glad you were here to do it. It was legendary.”

  “I heard they were filling up your drinks all night in honor of my outburst,” Heather smiled.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” Stacey s
miled. “I even got a cute cowboy’s number. He kind of looks like Nash, without all the baggage. You may be looking at an attached woman by this time next week.”

  Heather laughed. “Well, congratulations. At least you and Lola got something out of that whole debacle.”

  “I’m sure you’ll get your cosmic payout,” Stacey said.

  Suddenly, the bell over the front door chimed. “I better get to work,” Stacey mumbled, patting the dust off of her apron. “See you at break.”

  “If I’m still here,” Heather mumbled. And with that, Stacey was off, and Heather was alone again.

  She tried to busy herself in the numbers on her laptop screen, but they did nothing to calm her nerves. Nothing looked good here. The restaurant was running on a razor thin margin, and Heather suspected that the ranch was too.

  It took a couple of hours, but the landline in Heather’s office finally rang, just before she was about to take her first break of the day. She wasn’t exactly sure what to expect, but she wasn’t hoping for anything good. She’d always found it was best to get ready for the worst, so that even something a little better than the worst seemed all the better by comparison.

  Heather took a deep breath and answered the phone.

  “Heather?” came a woman’s voice from the other end of the line. She recognized it as Caroline’s.

  “Hey, what’s up?” she responded, dreading the answer.

  “Just keeping busy,” Caroline said, before making a notable pause. “I just got a call from Nash Winthrow’s people...” she started.

  Heather gulped. She didn’t dare say anything.

  “... They want to see you down at the main office. I tried to ask them what it was about, but they weren’t exactly clear. I would have pushed harder if I thought I could get anything out of them, but they’re notoriously tight-lipped, so I was just as polite as possible. I’m sure you’ll do fine. I told them you were a great worker and already helping out the restaurant just by your mere presence alone! Those big offices can be intimidating, but remember your worth, girl!”

  Heather took a deep breath. “Thanks, Caroline. I’ll head right over.”

  “Good. I’ve emailed you the address. It isn’t too far from the restaurant. They’re expecting you as soon as possible. Let me know what you guys talk about!”

  Heather suddenly realized that Caroline might be worried about her own skin. The Horseshoe’s owner had already admitted to Heather that she was breaching her contract by exploring off-ranch properties to rent. She must have been just as nervous about this meeting as Heather was.

  “I will,” Heather assured her. “I’m sure it’s nothing. They probably just want to get a look at the new meat. I’ll represent you well.”

  “Thatta girl,” Caroline said. “Good luck. I’ll be looking forward to your call afterwards.”

  The line went dead and Heather was alone again. She placed the phone on its hook and checked her email on her cell phone. She plugged the address Caroline had sent her into her Map App and put on a brave face as she made her way through the restaurant and to her car. Luckily, Stacey and Lola were busy with customer, so they didn’t have time to ask any questions, not that Heather had any answers for them. She just waved goodbye, butt-checked the front door open and hopped in her car.

  It wasn’t a long drive to the ranch’s main office. Heather barely had time to think up her little apology speech before she found herself pulled up out front of the intimidating building. It was the tallest tower on the land, and, as she looked it up and down, she imagined you could see for miles from the top floor. The king lived up there, and he had called for her.

  She was nervous, but determined not to make a fool of herself. If he wanted to fire her, then he could, but he wouldn’t get any tears out of her. His revenge would have to be monetary, because Heather was not going to let him get any other kind of satisfaction. Sure, she’d apologise, but that was about it.

  She stepped inside the air-conditioned building and was immediately met by a cool breeze and a busy secretary.

  “Ms. Hoover?” asked the secretary.

  Heather nodded.

  “25th floor please,” said the secretary, gesturing towards the shiny golden elevators.

  Heather nodded again and slowly made her way over to the doors. The lobby’s floors were white with marble and its walls were lined with life-sized painting and pictures of the wild west. She’d never been in this building before—it definitely betrayed the business side of this rough and tumble ranch.

  She clicked the ‘up’ button and the elevator doors almost immediately opened up to her. She stepped inside and gazed at her wobbly reflection as she was whisked up to the 25th floor.

  Just stay calm...

  The doors dinged open and Heather was immediately confronted by a familiar face. The thin man in the sleek suit from last night leaned against a polished wall just a few feet away from her. He looked up from his phone and smiled. “Ms. Hoover,” he nodded. “Right this way.”

  He turned and Heather followed. Their footsteps echoed through the big hallway and Heather felt as though she were being brought to see the president himself. A chill suddenly ran through her body. Just how rich and powerful was Nash Winthrow? She had only been afraid that he might fire her, but what if he really was as bad as some people say? Could he make her... disappear?

  Her nostrils flared and her eyes went wide at that thought, just as the thin man in the suit pushed open a set of ceiling-high wooden doors. Heather hesitated for a moment, before taking a deep breath and stepping into the office.

  It was big, but it also had a much more welcoming vibe to it then she had just been imagining. Soft, thick carpet lined the entrance and old western movie posters hung from the walls. Directly in the middle of the room, a large, richly colored, varnished desk sat, big and proud. Behind it was a huge, floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the land. At a quick glance, Heather swore she could see the eastern foothills of the Rocky Mountains from up here. It was mesmerizing, she leaned forward to get a closer look, before a voice snapped her back to reality.

  “Ms. Hoover,” came a deep, gruff rumble.

  Heather looked to her left. Nash Winthrow stood at a cozy looking bar with a pitcher of what looked like water in his hand.

  “Yes,” Heather responded, more meekly than she had wanted to sound.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Nash’s voice was somehow both raspy and smooth like butter. Heather couldn’t quite tell if she hated or loved it. The former football star was dressed much like he had been last night: like a cowboy. He lifted up his pitcher of water.

  “Umm...” Heather hesitated. Truth was, her mouth was dry and her throat was shot from nerves, but she wasn’t sure about the decorum of what she was about to go through. Should she accept the peace offering or try to get the upper hand by rejecting it immediately?

  She was too thirsty to go any other route.

  “Sure,” she finally conceded. The thin man in the sleek suit had pulled out a chair on the guest side of the big wooden desk. Heather sat down and Nash walked over with her glass of water.

  Heather was parched, but she made sure to only take slow sips of her drink. She didn’t want to give this man any satisfaction, no matter how small.

  Nash sat down in his big seat on the other side of the desk and tented his fingers. He looked at Heather steadily, as if choosing his words carefully. Heather tried to match his stare, but she could feel herself coming to wits end at the little showdown.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” she blurted out, immediately regretting having spoken first. Her voice sounded so small in the big room. Still, she continued. “But if you’re going to fire me or reprimand me or whatever, can you just get it over with? I need to start looking for a new job. I don’t have all day.”

  Nash’s eyes betrayed his surprise at her words. His reaction made Heather scrunch her face and furrow her brows in confusion. Neither of them talked, but, slowly, Nash began to
smile, then laugh.

  Now it was Heather’s turn to act surprised. “What!?” she demanded.

  Nash took a deep breath and leaned back in his king’s chair. “I’m not going to fire you,” he bellowed. “In fact, I have a... job proposition I’d like you to hear out.”

  Heather raised her eyebrow in suspicion. She had no idea where this was going. “What do you mean?”

  Nash stood up from his chair, seemingly restless. He turned from her and the desk and looked out onto the stunning view from his portal window. Heather felt someone come up from behind her. “I’m Frenchie, by the way,” said the thin man in the sleek suit. He placed a folder on the desk in front of Heather and reached out in greeting. Heather hesitantly shook his hand.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, looking back and forth between the two men.

  Nash turned back around. “Do you have a boyfriend?” he suddenly asked, very bluntly.

  Heather immediately blew air out of her nose. What a ludicrous question. It was the last thing she had been expecting him to say. “No, why?” she asked, with a hint of malice in her voice. She was beginning to feel like she wasn’t going to be the victim she had thought she might be. Nash seemed more hesitant than she could ever have imagined a billionaire football star to be. He was struggling with this. It gave Heather confidence.

  Nash bit his lip and gestured to the folder sitting in front of her. “I suppose you’ve heard of the ranch’s financial troubles, and I’m sure you’re well aware of The Horseshoe’s corresponding troubles. I know for a fact, after our little run-in last night, that you’re also aware of how I’m perceived by the general public...”

  Heather interrupted with a snort.

  Nash looked to his feet quickly then back up at her. He cleared his throat and continued. “... I have no plans to fire you, but if we don’t fix my image problem, you won’t have a job by this time next year anyway.”

  “If we don’t fix your image problem?” Heather asked, pushing her luck. She felt a smackdown coming, yet some inner strength was coursing through her tensed body.

 

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