Randal’s attention went to the menu board near the ceiling. “I was saying to Laura just last week—”
“Is Laura one of the partners?” Danielle found it hard to believe he’d had nothing to do with the offer.
“Laura’s my girlfriend.”
“You have a girlfriend?”
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
“I thought...I mean...” Danielle didn’t quite know where to go with this. She’d assumed he wanted to rekindle things with her. Had her ego led her that far astray?
“I’m a young, decently intelligent, decently looking man with a bright professional future.”
“Of course you are.” But the declaration sounded artificial even to her own ears.
Randal chuckled. “You should come to D.C., Danielle. It’s where all the action is.”
“There’s a lot going on in Chicago, too.”
They came to the counter.
“Why do I get the feeling you’ve maxed out there?” He looked to the clerk. “Two large coffees, one with cream and sugar, one black.” Then he raised his brow to Danielle. “That still right?”
She nodded. She still sweetened and softened her coffee.
“I’ll take a blueberry bran muffin,” she told the young woman.
“Same for me,” said Randal, reaching for his wallet.
“You don’t have to buy.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you saw the number of zeros on my bonus check.”
The clerk grinned brightly at his joke as she rang in their order, obviously aware that she was serving a good-looking, successful guy.
“That explains the Fendi suit,” said Danielle.
“Come and work with me. The salary they quoted is only the beginning.”
“I’m thinking about it,” she admitted, accepting one of the cardboard cups, and balancing the muffin in her other hand.
“Good.” His smile went wide.
There was a momentary, overly friendly glint in his eye that gave her pause. But she quickly squelched her suspicion. The man had a girlfriend. The idea that he was still pining over her after all these years was ridiculous.
Still, as they started to walk away, he touched her elbow, and something familiar moved up her spine. She shook off the ridiculous reaction, stepping to one side. It was over between them. He had another girlfriend. And she was absolutely not one of those women who took another look at her ex as soon as he was taken by somebody else.
She took a nibble of the dense, molasses-based muffin as she navigated her way through the milling crowd. As she moved into the big lobby, a movement flashed at the corner of her eye. She turned her head and scanned the cavernous space. Suddenly, her gaze caught and held, a sensual awareness washing through her in earnest.
She swallowed.
Travis was leaning indolently against a marble pillar. He should have looked out of place in a plaid Western shirt and faded blue jeans amidst a sea of dark, designer suits, but he didn’t. Somehow, the lawyers looked out of place around him.
“How’s the muffin?” asked Randal, his voice startling her.
“Mmm. Good.” She gave an appreciative nod.
Randal glanced at his watch, making a right turn toward the meeting room. “We’d better hurry.”
“I guess.” She wondered why Travis was here so early in the morning. In fact, why was he here at all? Last night, he’d told her he was staying at the Blonde Desert just off the Strip.
She half expected him to approach them. But he didn’t. Just stood here, watching, a half smile on his face.
“Dani?” Randal prompted, stopping a half step ahead.
For some reason his voice was starting to grate.
“I’m coming,” she answered, peering at Travis a moment longer.
Then she determinedly went ahead, setting a course for the panel discussion, determined to ignore Travis’s presence, but fully aware of his form in her peripheral vision.
She wondered if he had a cell phone. If she knew the number, she could send him a text and ask him what he was doing in the hotel. It occurred to her that Caleb likely knew. She could text Caleb and ask him for Travis’s cell. Would that be weird?
“Over there,” said Randal, as they moved with the flow of the crowd through a set of double doors.
Astrid was waving at them from a classroom style table, on the aisle, halfway up the room. Seats were filling fast, and the panel participants were taking their places at the front of the room. Danielle parked her shoulder bag under the table and took the seat next to Astrid. She draped her purse over the back of the chair, while Randal sat down next to her. Odette and Nadine arrived, and they squished one more chair into the table, pushing Randal’s shoulder against Danielle’s.
“Just like old times,” he joked in her ear, harkening back to their days in law school.
Astrid leaned forward, looking across Danielle to answer Randal. “At least we don’t have to write the bar exam this time.”
Randal gave her an easy smile.
The moderator spoke into the microphone, asking people to get settled, and the rest of the audience quickly took their seats.
Though the speakers were well-versed in their specialties, and the debate was lively, Danielle couldn’t get her mind off Travis, wondering if he was still in the lobby, and what had brought him there in the first place.
Two hours in, when one of the audience members wandered off on an arcane point of law to do with protocols for the functioning of supranational tribunals, she gave in and slipped from her seat. Randal looked surprised and none too pleased at having to move his seat to let her pass. She took her purse but left her shoulder bag, letting everyone think she was going to the ladies’ room.
She’d be right back. The odds that Travis was still out there were overwhelmingly small.
But, there he was.
One of the uniformed women had stepped out from behind the now-empty conference check-in desk and was talking and laughing with him. His gaze lifted, and he caught sight of Danielle. She stopped, not exactly sure what to do. She could still pretend she was going to the ladies’ room, avoid even acknowledging him.
He didn’t move, and neither did she.
Finally, she decided this was ridiculous. She wanted to know what he was doing here, and she’d go and ask him. She started across the mostly empty space, occupied only by hotel and conference staff, and the odd delegate who, like her, had stepped temporarily out of their session.
Her heels clicked on the marble floor. She was conscious of every step. Travis’s face was impassive, but he kept watching as she grew closer.
“Sounds good,” he said to the young, blonde woman. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Then he nodded to Danielle. “Hi there.”
The woman watched over her shoulder with obvious curiosity as she moved back to the long registration table.
“What are you doing here?” Danielle asked without preamble.
“I was getting a coffee, but then Melanie and I started chatting.”
Danielle cast a reflexive glance to the woman who wasn’t even hiding her interest. “I meant, what are you doing at this hotel? You said you were at the Blonde Desert.”
“When the Emperor Plaza found out I was a bull riding champion, they comped a suite.”
“Did you flash your belt buckle?”
He grinned. “Never thought of that.”
“How did they know?”
Travis nodded toward the closed door of the meeting room. “He in there with you?”
“You mean Randal?”
“You still think it’s just business?”
“Absolutely.” More than ever. In fact, she was embarrassed now that she’d ever thought it might be something else.
“What?”
“For such a smart woman, you’re really not a very smart woman.”
“Yeah? Well, for such a dumb cowboy, you really are a dumb cowboy.”
If she’d hoped to get a rise out of him, it didn’t work. His expression never faltered.
“You’re reading way too much into this,” she told him, glancing guiltily toward the meeting room, thinking she needed to get back there and catch the end of the session.
“No, I’m not,” said Travis.
She decided to put a stop to the debate. “He’s got a girlfriend back in D.C.”
“Not a very good one.”
Danielle folded her arms across her chest. “Now, that’s just absurd. You don’t know a single thing about her.” Danielle didn’t even know her name.
“I know he’s thinking about cheating on her.”
“You’re clairvoyant as well as a bull rider?”
“You don’t need to be clairvoyant to read lust in somebody’s expression.”
Danielle’s thoughts faltered, taking her down a worrisome pathway. “Was it me?”
“That he’s lusting after?”
“No. I mean, did I say something, or do something to make it look like I was interested in him?”
Travis rocked back ever so slightly. “Are you interested in him?”
“No. I mean, I don’t think so. But I could be one of those women.”
“One of what women?”
“The ones who don’t want a guy, but don’t want any other woman to have him, either. I mean, maybe when I heard he had a girlfriend, I subconsciously started getting jealous.”
“You’re not one of those women.”
“How do you know for sure? I might be.” What an incredibly distasteful character trait.
“It’s not you. It’s him. He sends out possessive vibes for about a hundred yards.”
“We haven’t seen each other in four years.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Travis confidently drawled.
The sound of applause drifted through the walls. Seconds later, four sets of double doors opened across the lobby, people spilling out in a steady stream. She guessed that answered whether or not she was going to catch the end of the session.
“Here he comes,” said Travis.
Danielle followed the trajectory of his gaze.
“Straight for you.”
“He’s got my bag.”
“A convenient excuse.”
“A gentlemanly act.”
Travis coughed out a laugh.
“You just can’t believe you might have it wrong,” she challenged.
“He’ll ask you to lunch,” Travis predicted. “And when you tell him you’re having lunch with me, it’ll kill him. He’ll say or do something to put me in my place. He’ll be absolutely compelled to point out the cultural differences between you and me, and how he’s the better man.”
“I’m not going for lunch with you.”
“Mark my words,” said Travis as Randal arrived.
“You left your bag behind,” said Randal, sparing a fleeting glance in Travis’s direction.
“Thank you,” Danielle offered, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction.
“Travis Jacobs,” Travis introduced himself, holding out his hand.
Randal seemed to hesitate for a split second. “Randal Kleinfeld.” He shook hands. “I went to Harvard with Danielle.”
“So, I hear,” said Travis.
Randal turned his attention back to Danielle. “So, what would you like to do for lunch?”
She could all but hear Travis’s mocking thoughts, feel him daring her to test his theory. If she did, she’d be stuck going to lunch with him. If she didn’t, he’d probably never let her live it down. But when Randal didn’t try to put Travis in his place the way Travis had predicted, Danielle would feel as if she’d won something, too.
It was worth a lunch with Travis, she decided.
“I’m so sorry,” she told Randal. “But Travis and I have just made lunch plans.”
Randal’s attention darted briefly to Travis. His eyes narrowed as if he was none too happy. But when he spoke to Danielle, his expression smoothed out again.
“I thought you might like to hear about the rest of the tariff Q and A.” Randal smiled, and his gaze slid to Travis again. “We could contrast tripartite arrangements pertaining to intra-regional trade distortions versus the harmonization of partner states.”
“We’re going to contrast the black bulls with the white ones,” Travis said with a straight face.
Danielle thought it was a stretch for Travis to take Randal’s words as a slight, but she nearly laughed at the comeback.
“I can make some introductions to people at the firm,” Randal pushed on. “You should use the break time to your advantage.”
“Sorry,” said Danielle. “But I already have plans.”
Randal hit Travis with a disparaging look. “You’re going to take advantage of her good manners?”
“I was going to pay for the lunch,” said Travis.
“That’s not the point.”
Danielle reached out to where Randal held her bag. “Thanks for bringing this. I’ll probably see you later on in the day?”
Before Randal could react, Travis removed the bag from his grasp.
“Jacque Alanis Signature Room?” Travis asked her in a clear voice, naming the most exclusive and expensive restaurant on the Strip. Then he took her arm and deftly turned her for the main entrance.
“You’re the one who’s throwing down the gauntlet,” she accused as they moved out of earshot.
“If his motives are pure, he’ll have no interest in which restaurant we choose.”
“We’re going to contrast the black and white bulls?”
“He tossed out all that technical language for my benefit.”
“Lawyers always talk that way.”
“You don’t.”
Danielle tried to decide if he was right. “I do when I’m with other lawyers.”
“You don’t do it to belittle other people in a conversation.”
She thought about that. “Sometimes I do it to you.”
He seemed to ponder the comment as they walked out the doors of the main entrance. “Sometimes I deserve it.”
Danielle gaped at him in astonishment, as he gave a hand signal to a doorman.
Within moments, a long, white limousine was pulling to the curb, and the porter held open the back door.
“You have got to be kidding,” she told Travis.
“He’s still watching. I want to make this good.”
Danielle didn’t believe that for one minute. “By now, Randal’s gone to lunch with someone else.”
“No, he hasn’t.” Travis guided her forward with a hand on the small of her back. “And the more I look like a rival, the faster he’ll tip his hand, and prove me right. He’s still after you.”
She put her hand on the open car door. “This is going to cost you a fortune.”
“You’re talking to a man with bull riding prize money in his jeans.”
“You’re going to spend it all just to make a point?”
“Might as well spend it on you.” His blue eyes were fixed and determined.
She gave an unconcerned shrug, answering as she slid into the car. “Fine. I’ve got nothing against the Jacque Alanis Signature Room.”
Travis grinned and slipped the doorman a bill before following her inside. The door shut behind him, and his phone began to ring. He reached into the breast pocket of his Western shirt.
“I think the Signature Room requires a jacket,” said Danielle.
&nbs
p; He gazed at his phone display. “In the absence of a jacket, they require a good tip.” He gave her an eyebrow waggle. “It’s Vegas, baby. You mind if I take this? It’s Caleb.”
Danielle felt her eyes widen. She wondered how Caleb could have known she was with Travis. Then she remembered Caleb and Travis were close friends. Then she realized she was making a colossal mistake by accepting his invitation to lunch. This was Travis, her archenemy from Lyndon Valley. Why had she let her guard down?
“Hey, Caleb,” he said into the phone.
Then he paused and listened, brow furrowing in concern.
The driver put the limo into gear and pulled ahead.
“Is everybody okay with that?” he asked.
Danielle didn’t want to be nosey, but she couldn’t help think something was wrong back at the Jacobses’ ranch.
“No. If that’s what he wants, then it seems like a good solution.” Travis paused again. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll get it done.”
The limo pulled into the busy street, and Danielle hung on to a handle as they bumped from the hotel driveway. The Signature Room was only half a mile away, but traffic was busy.
Travis’s gaze went to Danielle, a conspiratorial smile growing on his face. “She’s here? Really?”
She held her breath, not exactly sure why she wanted Caleb kept in the dark, but quite certain that she did.
“I’ll watch for her,” said Travis. “Thursday, it is. See you then.”
He ended the call. Then he grinned at her. “Caleb just informed me you were in Vegas.”
Danielle struggled to frame the right words. She didn’t want to offend Travis, but she didn’t want anybody getting the wrong idea, either.
“Relax,” he drawled. “I’m not going to kiss and tell.”
Her guilt turned to irritation. “Nobody’s kissing anyone.”
“It’s an expression.”
Her own phone chimed.
He glanced to her purse. “Go for it. I did.”
“Thanks.” She popped the snap and reached inside, extracting the slim phone. It was Caleb.
She pressed the answer button, watching Travis as she spoke. “Hi, Caleb.”
Travis’s brows shot up. Then he grinned, shaking his head.
“How’s the conference?” Caleb asked.
The Last Cowboy Standing Page 3