Mine Would Be You_A Bad Boy Rancher Love Story

by Ali Parker

  “You’ve got quite a swing.” I laughed, walking back to the cars. “If you ever retire, you could join the tour.”

  “Nah.” He chuckled. “I only like it when it’s for fun. Maybe after the contracts are signed, you can come back out and actually play the game.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I smirked.

  “There’s nobody who could perfectly slice the ball like that without trying, but I appreciate the attention to my ego.”

  “You are a smart man, sir.” I smiled. “And hopefully that means you’ve decided Truitt is your new home for marketing.”

  “I think I have, young man,” he said. “You don’t find CEOs willing to get their hands dirty in the business anymore. I like that you’re still there, plugging away, taking clients out yourself. I like the work your company did for the new line of luxury Mercedes. You pulled them out of the dark ages, or at least you made it look that way. Besides, I don’t mind winning on the golf course every once in a while.”

  “Maybe one day I’ll know how that feels.” I laughed, shaking his hand.

  “I’m excited to work with you, Elon,” he said opening his car door. “I’ll have the lawyers get a contract drawn up and send it over for you to take a look at on Monday.”

  “Sounds good, sir,” I said, waving as the car pulled off out of the country club’s exit.

  I turned around and smiled, feeling good about what just happened. It had been a while since I had brought a client like that back to the board, and they were definitely going to appreciate it. The number of large clients had been dwindling as of late, and I knew we needed a pick-me-up to get things back on track and keep the staff motivated and in place. I got in my car and tossed my golf glove in the back seat, taking off down the road. I liked to drive myself, especially since I had just purchased the newest Camaro. I tore through the back roads, not slowing down until I hit the city. I pulled up in front of my building and gave my keys to the valet, who nodded and rushed off when he realized who I was.

  I took the elevator to the top floor where the boardroom and my office was located. When I exited the elevator, the girl at the front desk smiled at me and stood. I put my hand up to signal her to relax and smiled, walking by with an extra pep in my step. That quickly faded, though, as I walked slowly past the boardroom, seeing the board members sitting around the table discussing something.

  Fuck, I thought to myself. I crept passed without catching their attention, not feeling like getting another talking to from them. I knew the company was low on numbers, and I knew they had been convening more than usual, but I was really hoping this time was for some other business between them. Sure, I’d started and built the company, but one of the things that came along with funding and growing a corporation was a board to represent investors, a board that ultimately took most of the power out of my hands when it came to choices of what to do. They also had the ability to remove me from control, and though they hadn’t threatened me yet, if things didn’t get better, that wasn’t far off the list of their to-dos. I took a deep breath and headed down the hallway, seeing my secretary was gone. I walked inside and stopped, staring at Clayton Hayward sitting in my chair.

  Hayward had been on the board for a while, voted in by the other members for his financial knowledge and ability to pull companies out of tight spots if it were needed. He and I, let’s just say, didn’t see eye to eye on anything. I was starting to think that was on purpose. If I argued the sky was blue, he would argue back that it was purple and my ineptitude was the reason I couldn’t see it. I had tried to get along with him, to get him on board with my vision for the company, but he had his own thoughts about where Truitt Marketing should go, and I wasn’t in that picture of things. All I could do was try not to give him a reason to go to the board about me.

  “Nice of you to show up,” he said, twirling a pen through his fingers.

  “I was in a client meeting this morning,” I said. “It took a while. I wasn’t aware I had to report my schedule to you or that I had to punch a time clock.”

  “You may not punch a time clock, but you might want to be aware that you’re being watched by the board,” he said.

  “By the board or by you?” I asked, putting down my bag.

  “They seem to be one and the same these days,” he replied. “The board is waiting for you. Apparently heeding my warning before about picking the company up was something you put on the back burner behind golf games and women.”

  “You would be mistaken,” I said, smiling. “My new client will prove that.”

  “Your new client could be the pope for all I care” He chuckled. “But come on, we might as well get this over with. I was just thinking about how I would redecorate your office when you were gone.”

  “Keep dreaming,” I said, standing by the door. “After you, of course.”

  I shook my head as he passed, looking in the office and shutting the door. I may have seemed cool and collected on the outside, but on the inside, I was a bit nervous. I walked in and greeted the other members who smiled and shook my hand. Most of the board liked me, saw what I was doing and where I had brought the company, but not Clayton. He hated me and only pointed out the negative.

  “Thank you for joining us today. This session has now begun,” Clayton said. “Mr. Truitt, you have been notified of all of this, but I will do a quick recap as a reminder. The company market shares have fallen twelve percent in the last two quarters. Financially, the company is sitting over a thousand dollars less per share than this time last year. There has been a steady decline in the amount and quality of clients that have been entering and exiting the company, and I attribute that directly to your refusal to be hands-on within this firm. As an owner, you must do more than just land a client every lunch or two. You have to see the work done from beginning to end, and you are not doing that.”

  “With all due respect, you have never run your own company,” I said. “So, I find it difficult to take your judgment and refusal to see anyone else’s play for the future as backing for your blatant attempt to take the company.”

  “I am not trying to take your company.” He laughed, looking at the other board members. “Just making sure it survives this year alone.”

  “Well, we’re going to be fine,” I said. “I just landed Cartier as a client. That should be more than enough to start our rise in the company numbers. We have been courting Cartier for years, and even you yourself, Clayton, have had meetings with the owner. However, it only took me an afternoon of letting him win on the golf course and, of course, my superior wit to woo him over. The lawyers are drawing up the contracts as we speak and will be sending over the contracts by Monday. Try those numbers in your calculations of my epic failure.”

  “That is a nice contract,” Clayton said leaning back. “But unfortunately, I believe it’s too little too late. The board is here to vote on your removal as CEO of the company. You will, of course, retain all financial ties and a golden parachute so big, your feet will never touch the ground, but you will be relieved of your duties at Truitt Marketing.”

  “And replaced by whom?”

  “Well, me.” He smirked.

  “Now, hold on,” one of the other board members said, standing up. “I think since Elon has shown us he’s more than capable of bringing in high-end clients, this should be a two-way vote. Those who believe he should be removed now is only one side, but the other should be his permission to see this job through and see if he can make a successful campaign out of it. If he does, he keeps his position.”

  “I agree,” several other members said.

  “Fine,” Clayton groaned.

  He took a vote from the board, and giving me another chance won out over the three votes to immediately remove me. I sighed in relief and put my hands down on the desk. This was definitely a relief, but I knew it wasn’t going to come easily.

  “You have to be involved in this,” Clayton said. “No pushing it off to the Ad Manager.”


  “No problem,” I said standing up. “If that is all, then I conclude this meeting of the board.”

  I stood there and shook each board member’s hand as they left. They were all very supportive of the decision, and I was anxious just to get things started. Clayton left last, standing in front of me and staring me down.

  “You are walking a very thin rope,” he whispered. “I promise you that by the end of this, you will be gone.”

  “I look forward to the challenge,” I whispered back.

  Chapter 2

  Amanda

  I was so glad it was Friday. I was ready to get home and be with my son for the weekend. At least I got to work with my best friend. Dalton and I had known each other for a long time, and though he could be flighty at times, he had become a rock in my life. In that particular moment, he was more of a pain in my ass, though.

  “I saw the new YSL fall line coming out,” he said. “Giiirl, let me tell you. There are some serious inner leopards going on in their lineup this year. I am going to look fabulous in their suits.”

  “How do you ever afford to live when you’re constantly buying couture?” I asked.

  “I stay single,” he whispered. “It’s the key. I can keep all of my money.”

  “Well, you’re going to be wearing couture from Target if you don’t keep your head on the project we’re working on,” I said. “These need to be perfect. You know how I don’t like to send anything out looking like shit.”

  “I remember,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I saw the aneurysm you had when the period was missing in the markup. It was a markup for damn sake. You could have taken a pill and relaxed.”

  “Markups are the vision of how the project will go,” I snapped. “If stuff is all messed up on there, then what can I expect out of the final copy?”

  “I tell you what, little lady.” He leaned forward. “We have been best friends for too long for me to deal with your bitchy work attitude.”

  “Why? I deal with your queen attitude,” I said with a smirk.

  “Yes, girl, and you will continue to do so because I am what holds you together,” he said, smiling. “I am your glue, my dear.”

  “Sparkly, glittery glue,” I replied with a chuckle.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he replied, looking at his fingernails. “I love you, little miss, you know that.”

  “I love you too,” I replied, smiling at him. “But I’ll love you a little less if this project is late to production.”

  “Fine.” He rolled his eyes and picked up his pencil. “Here, I made a few adjustments I thought you would like.”

  “Wow.” I looked down at the boards he handed me. “I love that. You are a damn genius at this stuff. I don’t know how you come up with these ideas.”

  “I do it for you,” he sighed. “It’s definitely not for the money. Billion-dollar company paying people like paupers. I still don’t know why you don’t ask for a raise.”

  “Who would I ask?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Your boss maybe.”

  “You mean that guy? The guy who is never around?”

  Dalton turned around in his seat and watched as Elon walked past, strutting his stuff like usual. I watched my best friend put his hand up to his chin and keep his eyes glued to Elon. He shook his head and turned back toward me.

  “What?” I asked with a chuckle. “Wrong shoes?”

  “No, I didn’t even notice his shoes,” he said. “Not with that tight, muscled body walking by with a smile that could seduce anything right out of their panties, especially me.”

  “Yeah, but does he have a personality?”

  “Who cares?” Dalton laughed. “He can stay quiet.”

  “You are gross.”

  “You know, in the six months I’ve worked here, I’ve never met that man in person,” he said. “He looks at me strangely every time we pass, but never stops and introduces himself.”

  “It could be the fact that you wear more makeup than me.” I chuckled.

  “Or because I’m so beautiful,” he pointed out.

  I laughed and looked up, watching Elon walk into his office. Come to think of it, I really had never had much of a conversation with the man either. It had never been anything more than a head nod or hello in passing. I liked it that way, though. I didn’t have to answer to him, and he left me alone to do my job. The one thing I hated more than anything else in corporate life was the politics. People ran around worried about how to impress their bosses instead of using their work to speak for them.

  “Where is the projection report?” I asked, looking up at Dalton.

  “I must have left it on my desk,” he said. “I’ll go get it.”

  “No, keep doing that. I like it. I’ll go grab the report,” I said, moving around the desk.

  I walked across the office and into Dalton’s, grabbing the projections off the desk. I stood there for a second reading them, making sure everything was on point. Dalton was excellent at his job, as were most of my team, but I liked to make sure everything was triple checked. When I was satisfied, I headed back out toward my office.

  “Miss Taylor,” Elon said, stepping out of his office. “Can I see you for a minute?”

  “Yes, sir.” I turned and headed into his office.

  “Please, have a seat,” he said, closing the door. “And please call me Elon. I feel old when I hear sir.”

  “All right.” I smiled. “What can I do for you?”

  “Amanda,” he said, pausing. “May I call you Amanda?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  “Amanda, we have some big things going on with a new client,” he said. “As we speak, the lawyers are drawing up the contracts for a long-term marketing relationship with Cartier. We have been trying to get them for years, and we finally did it.”

  “That’s great,” I said, unsure of why he was telling me.

  “It is,” he said. “It’s a very important client, so I’ll be heading up the management for the ads on this one. I will, however, need you to be there for support. We work together as a team of sorts.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Um, sir, if I may?”

  “Of course,” he said, sitting forward.

  “I have been your ads manager for two years now, and before that, I worked on the ads team under Mr. Wollert. I am more than capable of handling the Cartier account on my own. My team has been preparing for a client like this for years, even before I took over. We know our way around the process, the process that works. I really don’t think it’s necessary for you to take time out of your busy schedule and run this.”

  “I’m here to help,” he said with a shrug.

  “I don’t need help,” I said, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.

  “I don’t think you really understand what I’m saying here,” he said, leaning forward. “I am the owner of this company, your boss, and I am not asking your permission. I will be running the management of these ads, and I called you in here to keep you up to speed on the changes. I assume you’ll be able to help me make this transition smoothly?”

  “There’s so much in ad management, it will take me a bit of time to really have you understanding everything,” I said.

  “That’s fine,” he replied. “We have time.”

  “All right, then. I will be here for whatever you need,” I sighed.

  “Good,” he said. “We’ll start on Monday.”

  I could feel the intensity of the tension between us, and I really didn’t like it. The first time I had anything to do with Elon, and he acted like a total asshole. This was not going to be a fun experience, but what was I supposed to do? He was the owner of the company and technically everyone’s boss.

  I smiled fakely as I left the office and went back to mine, sitting down and working quietly with Dalton for the rest of the day. I had busted my ass to perfect the processes in that department, only for the owner to come in with no knowledge really of what we even did every
day and mess with it. By the time five came around, I was more than happy to get the hell out of there.

  When I got home, I thanked the babysitter and let her go for the day. I took my shoes off and leaned against the wall, letting out a deep sigh. I couldn’t help but bring my frustration home with me. It had been affecting everything I did that day. I walked around the corner and saw my son sitting at the table and working on his homework. He was always so good at getting his work done before doing anything else. That was one thing I was blessed with, a son who knew how to behave.

  “Mom,” he said excitedly, turning in his chair. “I’m so glad you are home!”

  “Mikey, watch the glass.” I reached forward as he hit it with his elbow and poured red punch all over the floor.

  “Oh, no,” he said, his shoulders tensing. “I’m sorry.”

  Immediately, my tension faded, and I knew there was no way I could be upset with him. Bringing my frustration home with me was something I’d told myself I needed to make sure didn’t happen. I loved my child, though being a single mom was trying at times, and I wanted him to always know he was an important and wonderful part of my life. I grabbed the kitchen towel and walked over, cleaning up the mess.

  “See?” I said. “No harm done. Now, where were we?”

  “I was asking how your day went,” he said, sitting in my lap at the table.

  “Better now that I’m here with you.” I smiled, kissing him on the cheek. “It was work, but now it’s over, and we have the whole weekend to party like rock stars.”

  “Mom.” He giggled. “I’m not old enough to party.”