Royal Trouble

by Becky McGraw

  She just needed a little time to think, plan and figure out what she wanted to be when she grew up. Since she was a full-grown woman now, it was a little late for her to do that, but before now she had been denied that freedom. She hadn't claimed that freedom from their mother like her sister had done years ago. But the fact that her independent sister didn't believe she would succeed had those tears she had banked resurfacing again.

  "Well, shit," Rocky said again leaning over to hug her. "I'm sorry, honey, I didn't mean to make you cry, but you have got to find your backbone, and soon. You are entirely too old to still be living with your mama and letting her control you."

  Leigh sniffled softly. "I don't know how to do anything, Rocky. I'm not good with anything, and I know it's my fault. I shouldn't have quit school."

  The endorsements will come once you win Miss USA, you will be too busy to finish college. Her mother's famous last words. The words that put her in the position she was now. Trying to get a job as a low-paid secretary, when she could have been so much more.

  "Maybe your interview will work out tomorrow," Rocky mumbled into her hair. "What's it for anyway?"

  "Legal Assistant...and I have no idea why I applied for the job, I don't have any experience." There wasn't much else she could do. Finding that job, one whose only requirement was answering the phone and manning the front desk of a legal office with light typing in the local newspaper had been a godsend.

  "Because you're well spoken, you can think on your feet, and you present a professional image at a front desk, that's why. Do you know how to type?"

  "Hunt and peck," Leigh Ann admitted with another sniffle.

  "Who are you interviewing with a man or a woman?" Rocky asked.

  "Robert Mullins is the attorney's name. It's a small firm in downtown Amarillo. I found out where you were working from Grandma and wanted to be close to you. That's why I came up this way."

  Grandma Nell had heard about what happened at the other ranch with their mother, and hadn't wanted to tell her where her sister was working and living. Leigh Ann had begged, so she had finally told her, but made her swear not to tell their mother before she gave up the information. Grandma Nell hated their mother.

  "Okay, let's get you up to the house. What time is your appointment tomorrow?"

  "Three o'clock," Leigh Ann replied, pulling a handkerchief out of her pocket to dab at her eyes. "I figured I'd spend the night in town after the interview." She didn't have a dime, so that night would be spent in her car. If she didn't get the job, her nights spent in the car would be limited too, because it would be repossessed.

  "Can you afford that?"

  "Not really, but I really don't want to impose here."

  Rocky thought for a minute, then smiled slyly. "I think my friend Dylan has a trailer in town, I'll ask him if you can stay there temporarily, until you can find a place in town."

  Excitement shot through Leigh Ann. Her own place? Somewhere she could be alone and wouldn't be a bother to her sister or anyone else? Leigh Ann squealed and threw her arms around her sister. "Thank you! It will be my first place by myself!"

  Now, if she could just find a job to pay for it, her new life could begin.

  CHAPTER TWO

  At ten until five o'clock on Friday evening the intercom on Leigh Ann Baker's desk buzzed, and she knew she was about to be fired. Again. For the fifth time in the same number of weeks. Leigh Ann knew the signs now, and this was hers. A blazing neon sign.

  Leigh Ann felt like a bird held captive all its life that was suddenly sent out into the world to fend for itself, without the survival skills it needed to live. Leigh Ann had the social and interview skills to get jobs, she just didn't have the office skills to keep them. This job had been easier for her than the rest, and she thought she was doing a good job, so she had no idea why Mr. Templeton was going to fire her.

  With every pink slip she received in the last five weeks, the doubt that she had made the right decision leaving Dallas grew. If she went back there now, she could probably get modeling jobs. It would be easy, and she was realizing that was about the only thing she was qualified to do. But taking that route would mean admitting her mother was right, Leigh Ann was useless other than being pretty. And Trudy Baker would use it to convince her to marry Lester Fallon.

  Modeling was a rat race anyway, brutal and unforgiving. With the extra ten pounds she'd gained in the last few months from comfort eating, the wrinkle she found the other day in the mirror, and the fact she was only five foot four, who was she kidding?

  The intercom buzzed again, this time twice in a row.

  Sucking in a breath she picked up the receiver and pushed the button. "Yes, Mr. Templeton?"

  "Miss Baker, I need to see you in my office, please," he said shortly then disconnected. She heard the receiver in the man's office slam down in the cradle and flinched. His door was opened a crack and it was only ten feet from her desk. This office was small, so the short, bald attorney could just have just yelled for her.

  Another sign.

  Leigh Ann pushed back her chair to stand, straightened her suit skirt and jacket, then inhaled deeply, before walking to Mr. Templeton's door to knock.

  "Come in," he invited and she pushed open the door to stand in the doorway.

  "Yes, sir?" Leigh Ann grimaced hoping he would drop the hammer softly, instead of reaming her out for forgetting to give him the message from the judge this morning. Leigh Ann would have remembered if her mother hadn't called on her cell phone to distract her.

  "Sit down, please," he said softening his tone. "Shut the door."

  Another sign.

  Leigh Ann walked inside and shut the door behind her, then sat on the edge of the burgundy leather chair in front of his desk, folding her hands in her lap. Mr. Templeton's face was ruddy with what looked like a mix of anger and embarrassment.

  He leaned forward to tent his hands in front of him on the desk, before saying bluntly, "Leigh Ann...I can't keep you."

  Can't keep her? That was an odd way to put it. He made it sound like she was a stray puppy he'd brought home, and his mama told him he had to get rid of it. It was also a cop out, because he offered no explanation as to why he was firing her. Leigh Ann needed to know what it was, so she could make sure she didn't do it again at her next job.

  She squirmed in the chair, but lifted her chin to ask him, "What do you mean, Mr. Templeton? If this is about that message this morning, I can explain..."

  He held up his hand to shush her, which was a relief, because Leigh Ann didn't have a good explanation, other than her mother called and she forgot.

  "You met my wife at lunch?" he said and Leigh Ann's eyes jerked up to meet his.

  "Yes, I did. She's a very nice lady," Leigh Ann complemented sweetly, even though the stocky woman looked like Betty Ballbreaker and had treated her like she was gum on the sole of her ugly low-heeled pump.

  "No, Leigh Ann, she is not a nice lady," he corrected. "But she is my wife, and she is a very well connected former judge's daughter..."

  "What does that have to do with me, Mr. Templeton?" Leigh Ann asked in confusion.

  "She says I can't keep you, so you have to go," he replied flatly.

  How about that? His mother had told him his new puppy had to go. Leigh Ann racked her brain, but failed to come up with anything she could have done to upset the woman. It had been tough, but she had been extra nice to the unpleasant woman. Bless her heart. There was only one thing she could conclude. "She didn't like me?"

  "Brenda didn't give me a reason, but it probably has something to do with how you look," he told her.

  Leigh Ann looked down at herself, and thought she looked nice enough. Nothing was hanging out of her lavender business suit. It had been one of her favorites for interviews in her pageant days, and usually made a good impression. She'd always won when she wore it. Anger bristled inside of her. What the hell did the way she looked have to do with the job she was hired to do anyway?

  "She
didn't like the way I look?" Leigh Ann asked edging forward in the seat, her voice raising a notch. At least at the other four jobs she'd been fired from so far, her boss had a legitimate reason for letting her go.

  As hard as she tried, she was hopelessly incompetent at office work, typing being her biggest downfall. There wasn't much typing involved here.

  Mr. Templeton, cleared his throat and adjusted his six-seasons-out-of-date pea green tie then told her, "Um, you have to know you're beautiful."

  "I didn't know being unattractive was a requirement of this job, and I think you could plainly see what I looked like when you hired me, sir," she said harshly, surprised at herself, but proud that she was standing up for herself for once.

  "I made a mistake hiring you, Leigh Ann. Please go to the unemployment office and I'll approve your benefits," he told her generously. "I'm sorry things didn't work out."

  Unemployment benefits would be squat, considering how much money she made the last five weeks. She had never collected an unemployment check before, but she had heard it was based on her last three months income. Leigh Ann had only been working for five weeks. "I'd rather keep my job, Mr. Templeton."

  "I...can't keep you," he told her again and shook his head looking uncomfortable.

  Swallowing to contain the tears that burned her eyes, Leigh Ann gathered her dignity then pushed up to her feet. Lifting her chin a notch, Leigh Ann mouthed a canned polite response that had been driven into her since childhood, " Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Templeton."

  Definitely not what she really wanted to say to this weak, spineless bastard.

  Go fuck yourself, floated on the tip of her tongue, but she would never let it roll off. Ladies don't curse, Leigh Ann. Her mother could do the same as Mr. Templeton, she thought with frustration. Although she could never tell either of them that, she sure could think it, and the words made her feel a little better. Leigh Ann snatched the pre-made check from the corner of his desk and walked out the door.

  ***

  "I'm sorry, Wes, I just can't keep it all up," Roxanne told Wes with a frustrated breath, as she saved the billing spreadsheet on his computer. "I know I'm letting you down, but between planning a wedding, my chores at the ranch and the classes for the search and rescue team, I can't keep up with it all. You need somebody full-time, and I'll stay until you can find someone, I'll even help you find someone."

  Wes did need a full-time assistant, but finding one was the problem.

  Since Laura had left him seven years ago, he'd been through seven--now eight assistants. Rocky had been the best by far, but now he was losing her too. Because she was marrying someone else. She was in love with Ethan Cassidy, and had been, even when Wes took the time and worked up the courage to ask her out to dinner.

  It was a damned shame too, because she would have been a perfect wife for him, down to Earth and uncomplicated, an ideal mother for his son. Even though she was beautiful, other men wouldn't look at Roxanne Baker. If they did, she would probably cut their balls off. She was a tough, loyal woman he wouldn't have to fight to keep. Just the type of woman he would have been looking for, if he had time to look.

  Wes just didn't have time for a woman, between taking care of his son and saving his failing business. If he didn't give away so many free services to struggling farmers and ranchers, Wes knew he wouldn't be struggling, but he just couldn't say no to them. The welfare of their animals was more important to him than money. If he had a competent assistant to handle his billing and collections, he would at least have consistent income from the people who he did charge.

  Their one date had told him there wasn't a spark between them anyway. Not one single flicker. He didn't expect fireworks, didn't want them in his life again, but a damn sparkler or two would have at least given him hope it might work out.

  With every day that passed, it became more obvious to Wes that Trey needed a mother. He knew he needed a wife to help him, a partner. But who the hell was he kidding anyway? What would he have to offer a woman right now?

  Wes's life was pretty damned boring, he was a divorced single father with a failing business, mortgaged to the hilt, definitely not good husband material. He was in a black hole of his own making thanks to his ex-wife. Paying her off for sole custody of his son had been the best decision he had ever made in his life though. Trey had a good stable life now. Even if Wes struggled to keep him fed and clothed now, they both had peace.

  And he had learned a lesson. He was never going to get involved with another woman like Laura. High maintenance women, beautiful city women, spelled nothing but trouble. At this point, Wes didn't care if the woman looked like ten miles of bad road, as long as she loved him and Trey, he would be happy. Even if Wes didn't love the woman he married, he would make sure she had a good life, and was happy too.

  "I'll put an ad in the paper, and see what I can find," he replied with dread coursing through him at the thought of weeding through resumes again and interviewing.

  "Someone will apply, we'll just take our time and find the right person," Rocky assured him, standing up behind the desk. "I'll be back Thursday to help."

  It was Friday, so that meant he would be alone for almost a whole week.

  Roxanne walked around the desk to hug him goodbye, and regret coursed through him, but gratitude as well. Roxanne Baker had worked hard trying to help him fix what was broken in his practice. She had organized him within an inch of his life. Now, if she could just wave a magic wand and make money appear, he would be alright.

  "Thanks for everything, Rox."

  "Don't worry, Wes, things will work out." Stepping back from him, the sympathy in her gray eyes tugged at him. She cared about him, and he wanted the best for her too. Wes hoped that Ethan Cassidy made her happy. Rocky deserved to be happy, she was a good woman. The best that he had met in a long time.

  Wes wanted to find a woman just like her, only with a spark or two thrown in for good measure. Not too tall an order, right?

  "Things work out the way they're supposed to work out, but I'm damned sad to lose you." In more ways than one, he thought. "I'll be dancing at your wedding though, so save me one." If he was sober enough to stand. Wes didn't drink much at all, but that night he was going to make an exception.

  "I don't dance, you know that," she said with a chuckle, nudging his arm as she walked by to go to the door. "But I'll have a beer with you."

  At a loss after Roxanne left, Wes stood there staring at the door, trying to figure out how the hell he'd gotten to this point in his life, where he'd gone off track and how he was going to fix it.

  ***

  In her lavender and black silk underwear, a warm beer in her hand, Leigh Ann sat in the hell hot trailer sipping the beer. It seesawed up and down her throat, before finally sliding to her stomach. Because she hated beer. This cheap version was the worst she'd ever tasted, but hopefully it would do the trick soon to numb the hopelessness trying to overwhelm her. She had bought the beer with the last buck fifty in her purse. The cheap wine she really wanted had been more than that.

  The alcohol was having the opposite effect on her though. The more she drank, the more depressed she became. Her resolve not to head back to Dallas was slipping too. She had berated her mother for the poor job she had done of managing Leigh Ann's life. Well, Leigh Ann hadn't done a much better job of it in the last five weeks.

  She was still broke and jobless. The only difference was she called a tiny tin can of a trailer home now. At least her mother's town home had air conditioning. The air in the trailer had broken down a few days ago, and Dylan hadn't been by to fix it yet.

  Someone knocked at the door, but Leigh Ann wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, so she ignored it and took another swig of the warm beer. She had to swallow twice to get it past the lump in her throat. The visitor didn't take a hint and go away though, they knocked again, louder this time.

  Leigh Ann Baker, you get up and answer that door right now, you're being rude, her mother's voice shot
through her skull and made it throb. She paused with the beer bottle near her lips to grumble, "Shut up, Mama."

  But she set the beer down and got up to answer the door. She drew the line at putting on clothes though. Whoever was at the door could take her as she was, half-drunk and sweating like a sow, and they better not say a word. It was just too damned hot for her to worry with modesty.

  Two unsteady steps brought her to the door where she flipped the latch then shoved it open. Whoever her visitor was stumbled back on the steps with an oomph. Boots scrabbling on the stairs were followed by a loud curse in a deep male voice.

  "Watch your mouth," she chastised as she walked back to sit down at the table. If the man was an axe murderer or Red Jones, he could come on in, because she was finishing her beer, not waiting for him or serving tea. Maybe he could put her out of her misery.

  "Leigh Ann?" Dylan Reed stuck his head through the doorway. When his eyes met hers in the dim interior of the trailer, Dylan's eyebrows shot up. "Are you okay, honey?"

  He walked inside then reached up to pull the string that operated the only overhead light in the trailer. Leigh Ann hadn't bothered when she came home, she wanted to hold her pity party in the dark. It matched her mood.

  "No, I'm not okay," she replied morosely, then tipped the brown bottle to her lips to take another long draw. The overhead light came on and blinded her.

  "Jesus, woman!" Dylan shouted and turned his back. "You're in your underwear!"

  As if she didn't know that. "So?" Leigh Ann replied with a shrug.

  "So, you're in your underwear!" he shouted again.