by Robyn Neeley
“Hmm …” Gavin paused for a second. “Well, I don’t remember Coop, but I’m sure Grayson had several different roommates.” He waved his hand, laughing it off. “It takes a special kind of person to live with my brother. Someone who can easily put him in his place when needed.”
She couldn’t help but notice Gavin’s encouraging smile, which mirrored the one Eleanor had given her this morning. The one that revealed he was on Team Becca. Well, they were all going to be disappointed in Jack’s final fantasy pick. It wasn’t happening, especially if Grayson was frolicking on the beach with another woman.
Not that she cared.
Just then Macy returned, ending the opportunity for Becca to inquire more about Coop. “Don’t kill me, baby. I know this is last minute, but my manager wants to throw us a small engagement party at the house this weekend. Would you be okay with that?”
Gavin wrapped an arm around Macy’s waist. “Of course. Sounds fun.”
Macy hugged him back, and a twinge of jealousy nipped at Becca. It wasn’t that she had the hots for the veterinarian, but obviously Jack had gotten this pairing right.
Macy let go of her fiancé, her lips curving in a wide smile. “Becca, you should come. It’ll be a lot of fun, and I’d love to introduce you to my band.”
“Oh, I don’t …”
“You should,” Gavin agreed. “I promise we won’t talk about the factory, your shares, or my brother.”
“Grayson or Gage?” she asked, just making sure.
He chuckled, appearing to enjoy her sense of humor. “Both.”
“Well, in that case …” Becca took a deep breath, not believing what she was about to say, “I’d love to.”
Macy whipped out her phone and tapped in Becca’s number so that later in the week she could text her the time of the party. Becca didn’t need directions. Everyone in town knew where the Cooper homestead was located.
“We’ll see you then,” Gavin said, and he and Macy turned toward the dairy section to continue their shopping.
Becca headed in the opposite direction, her phone vibrating in her hand. Macy’s text with her phone number had been delivered. She stared down at the seven unfamiliar digits that solidified her highly unexpected plans for Saturday night.
She slid her phone in her purse. At least Grayson wouldn’t be there.
• • •
Grayson pulled off his cowboy boots, flinging one across his living room followed by the other. He sank deep into his sofa, closing his eyes and rolling his neck.
Today had been hard work. Period. He still couldn’t believe that he’d been hazed for the better part of the afternoon, and as the CEO, that behavior concerned him. Did these shenanigans happen all the time?
At least Becca had reprimanded the two culprits. He was starting to understand just how good she was at her job. It took a special kind of boss to deal with all the floor activity going on at any given time.
He also didn’t have as much interaction with her as he would have liked. He’d have to figure out a way for them to spend time together; otherwise, his plan wasn’t going to work, and the disguise—and the hassle—would be for nothing.
While cleaning up the mess he’d made, Tangie had sauntered over with an extra mop, offering her help. Boy, that woman could talk. He learned all about her turning thirty next year and how she planned to celebrate; how most of her paycheck went to helping her younger brother, who had recently gotten out of rehab for a drug problem and was now working at the truck stop off the interstate; and how she practiced yoga every morning and hoped to one day become a certified instructor.
She’d even showed him some stretching exercises, including one she called her signature move that involved arching his back while bouncing on his toes, which, he had to admit, felt amazing. Her move would definitely come in handy if he was going to get through the next three weeks and not feel like he’d been run over by a Mack truck.
Tangie didn’t really say much about Becca other than that she was a great boss. She’d also told him in no uncertain terms that he had no chance with Becca, since she was intended for the CEO.
He smirked. Hopefully tomorrow she’d open up to Coop Jackson over lunch.
Speaking of food, he was about to chomp off his left hand if he didn’t get something in his belly. He hadn’t thought to bring his lunch today, forgetting that none of the plant employees ate in the main cafeteria. He didn’t want to cause suspicion his first day by going in there. He still didn’t get why they boycotted it. Meals were discounted for all employees, and there was plenty of room in the spacious dining hall, which took up most of the first floor.
He ripped open the Chipotle bag and dived into his chicken bowl loaded with chicken, white rice, sour cream, and Monterey Jack cheese. Not his usual dinner, but after the day he—Coop—had had, he deserved it.
Midway through his scarf-down, his doorbell rang. That’s strange. He wasn’t expecting anyone. Meg had already been by and left the work shoes on his doorstep. She wouldn’t be stopping by again until later in the week to see if his disguise needed any upkeep. He dragged himself off the couch and over to his front door, looking out the peephole. Gavin waited on the other side.
He flung the door open.
Gavin narrowed his eyes, stepping back. “Who are you?”
Oh, crap. He’d forgotten to call his brother yesterday. “Don’t freak out. It’s me. Grayson.”
His older brother squinted his eyes. “Holy mother of God. What did you do?”
“It’s a long story. Come in for a beer, and I’ll tell you.”
Grayson headed into his kitchen, flinging the refrigerator door open and grabbing two imports. He handed one over to Gavin. “Pretty awesome disguise, huh?” He twisted open his bottle and took a swig. Damn, that hit the spot. Maybe Meg had been right yesterday when she told him he’d be beer guzzling in no time.
Gavin continued to eye his brother, pulling out a bar stool and taking a seat. “Is that a wig you’re wearing?”
“Yes.” He ran his fingers through it, not used to the length. “I think I’m going to have Meg trim it a little more this weekend.”
“Meg?”
“Meg Murphy, the waitress over at the Silver Spurs.”
“She did this to you?”
“Yeah, she and a couple of her friends. She’s studying to be a beautician.”
Gavin continued to stare at Grayson’s head. “And you thought you’d be her guinea pig?
Why are you in disguise? Oh, Christ. You haven’t done anything illegal, have you? Shit, Grayson, I would have expected Gage to be running from the law one day, but you …”
“Calm down. I’m in this disguise because I’m working undercover in the factory.” He sipped his beer. “But Roselyn knows all about it. It’s nothing illegal.”
“Why on earth would you want to go undercover?” Gavin took a longer drink of his beer. “It has something to do with Becca, doesn’t it?”
Grayson leaned his body against the counter, propping up on his elbows. “I’m doing it because I’ve got to know why Dad chose Becca.”
“And you think altering your appearance so that you are unrecognizable will accomplish that?”
He nodded. “Trust me, I’m the first to admit that this is a crazy idea, but it’s working. I’m in. I worked a full day today on the production line as Coop Jackson, and Becca’s been nice to me because I’m her employee.”
Gavin laughed. “Yeah, about that. You did make quite a first-day impression on your boss. Macy and I ran into her at the grocery store tonight, and she mentioned you’d hired him … hired you …”
“She did? What did she say?”
“That you’d given your college roommate a job. Man, you should have told me what you were doing. I nearly blew your cover when I said your college roommate was named Donovan.”
“Donovan?” Oh yeah. His real college roommate. “I’m sorry. I meant to call you last night, but the disguise took a few hours, and I forgot.�
�
“And you are supposed to be in Cancun. Is that the story?”
“Yeah, I told the senior team I wanted to take the rest of the month off to recharge. Since we have the property there, I thought it was a good lie as far as fibs go.”
“What about that truck in your driveway—whose is that?”
“Meg’s brother, Bob. My convertible’s in my garage.”
“Unbelievable … I always thought Gage would be the first to fly off his rocker.”
“You’re just jealous that I now have more hair than you,” Grayson joked back. “Do you think Becca’s suspicious?”
“She didn’t seem so.” Gavin leaned his back against the counter. “So, how did today go?”
“Man, it was so freakin’ hard. Oh, and get this. I learned from one of Becca’s friends, who works there, too, that the factory workers have nicknames for me.”
“For Coop or for Grayson?” Gavin took a swig of his beer.
“Me. Grayson. Apparently the whole factory calls me Swanky Suit or Dipshit.”
The latter caused his brother to spit out his beer. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Dipshit. Now, that’s funny.”
“Ha-ha,” Grayson said bitterly. “Freakin’ hilarious.”
“Well, it’s only your first day. You’ll adjust.”
“I hope so. Working the line is no cakewalk. I mean, I know the work they do in the factory isn’t easy, but it’s really intense. There’s a lot going on.”
“So, did you learn anything as far as Becca’s concerned?”
Not as much as he would have liked to, but that would change tomorrow.
“Not really. It’s going to be harder than I thought to get close to her. She’s so guarded … and busy. I doubt she’s going to hang around the watercooler with her new employee engaging in idle chitchat. I’ve got to think of creative ways to spend time with her. We’re having lunch tomorrow. I’ll start there.”
“Well, you should know, while we were talking to her tonight, Macy’s manager called and wants to throw an engagement party at the house this weekend. Macy invited Becca.”
“Really?” That news motivated him to pull himself off the counter. “She didn’t say yes, did she?”
“Actually, she did. She and Macy exchanged phone numbers. Macy’s even talking about calling her later this week to see if she’d like to go shopping sometime this month. My fiancée has decided she’s going to befriend Becca and make this a little easier on her.”
Grayson shook his head. “Yeah, because any woman chosen by Dad to have a relationship with me definitely needs a support system.”
Gavin slapped his back. “You said it,” he kidded. “Nah, it’s like how she befriended Charlotte when she first came to town. She wants both of her future brothers-in-law to be happy.”
Grayson put his hands behind his back and did one of the stretches Tangie had shown him, bouncing on his toes. “Becca’s probably only going because I’m out of town.”
“Well, why don’t you come since you’re back in town?”
“Um … because she thinks I’m in Cancun.”
“Say you came home early. It doesn’t mean you have to go back to the office until September. None of your staff would even blink an eye.”
“That could work.” He pointed to his wig. “I could probably have this taken off on the weekends. Good thinking, Gavin. I like the idea of being me on Saturday and Sunday.”
Gavin finished his beer and fished in his jean pocket for his keys. “You do realize full-time Coop could blow up in part-time Grayson’s face if Becca ever finds out what you’re doing.”
“Don’t worry. That won’t happen. I’m being very careful,” he said, using Coop’s Southern drawl to illustrate just how good his disguise was.
“We’ll see you Saturday.” He slapped Grayson on the back. “That is, if the factory doesn’t wear you out. Good luck tomorrow. Oh, and stay away from Swanky Suit. I hear he’s a dipshit.”
“Yeah, whatever. See you.” Grayson said good-bye and returned to the living room, picking up his dinner.
Shoving most of it in his mouth, he put the small amount of leftovers in the refrigerator and dragged himself upstairs. Once there, he took out his contacts and peeled off his clothes. Wearing only his blue-and-white-checkered boxers, he flopped—stomach-first—onto his bed.
It would be great to see Becca this weekend as himself and not Coop Jackson. He rolled over and closed his heavy lids, exhaustion taking over.
That is, if his day job didn’t kill him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Grayson rounded the corner to Becca’s office. The clock had struck noon, and he was ready to spend some quality time learning all he could about his new boss. Perhaps she’d unknowingly shed some light on why his father gave her the shares. He took a deep breath before knocking.
“Hey, Coop. I was just thinking about you. You ready for lunch?” Becca stood and pulled off her white smock, draping it over her chair.
“I sure am.” In her simple red top and black pants, she actually looked … normal, like someone he might go out with. Hmm, Becca in a pair of black leather heels. She’d carry the height well.
He noticed the vase holding the gardenias he’d sent her was missing. “Where are your beautiful flowers?”
“I took them over to my mother’s. I thought she might like them.”
Well, if she wasn’t going to enjoy his gesture, Mrs. Nash should. “Does she live in Sweet Ridge?”
“Yeah, she moved into an assisted living home on the outskirts of town this summer.” She straightened a small stack of papers on her desk. “The flowers would help spruce up the place.”
Interesting. Shouldn’t her mother be too young to need assistance? No wonder Becca had been so guarded when he mentioned her at the Silver Spurs and then the night of the Battle of the Bands. He made a mental note to stop bringing her mother up in conversation. If anyone understood the pressure of coping with an ailing parent, it was him.
He followed Becca down the hall but stopped in front of the building’s exit. “Oh, shoot. I totally left my lunch on my kitchen table.” Truth be told, he hadn’t made it.
She waved him off. “I’m sure we can find something for you in the refrigerator.” She started to head to the break room.
“Wait,” he called out, and she spun around.
“Everything okay? If you don’t want what’s in the refrigerator, I brought a turkey sandwich. You can have that.”
“Um … I really don’t want to eat anything that belongs to someone else. Plus, I’m a … a … vegetarian.” He nodded to the corporate building. “Roselyn told me there’s a nice cafeteria on the first floor. Why don’t we go there?”
At the speed Becca shook her head, he almost felt bad suggesting it. “Bad idea?”
“Horrible.” She paused and gave him a small smile. “I mean, it’s not horrible. We can go there if you’d like.”
“Great.” He pushed open the door and held it for her. “So, how was your night?”
“My night?” she repeated.
“Do anything fun?”
“Not really. Visited my mother and then went grocery shopping. How about you?”
“It was low-key.” He lifted his knee and flexed his foot, showing off the shoes Meg had brought over for him. “But I did manage to pick up a pair of these.”
“I noticed. I’m sure they’re much more comfortable.”
“I thought you said cowboy boots were comfortable.”
“I did?”
Oh, shit. She did say that, but not to Coop. She’d said it Saturday night while they were dancing. “Um … I thought you did. Oh, you know what? It was Tangie who said it.”
“Well, she’s right. They are comfortable. It takes time to find the right pair, but when you do, it’s magical. Kind of like buying a car.”
“Really?” Somehow he didn’t think he’d get the same adrenaline rush from purchasing a pair of cowboy boots like he did the day h
e’d driven his Mercedes convertible off the dealer lot.
“Have you settled into your home?” she asked.
He blinked. Where did Coop Jackson live? He decided to play it safe. “Actually, I’m staying at Grayson’s.”
That admission got a smirk back. “Have you heard from him?”
He nodded, happy that she’d asked. They’d reached the building, and he, once again, held the door open for her. “As a matter of fact, he called last night. He’s coming home soon.”
Her eyes went wide at that news. “He is? Why?”
“I guess he had enough fun in the sun.” He pointed to the left and then right, pretending he didn’t know which direction the cafeteria was in. She motioned to hang a left.
“Will he be back in the office?”
He wasn’t sure how much to reveal, but if Coop wanted to get in her good graces, feeding her information on Grayson’s whereabouts might be the way to do it. “He mentioned he’s still going to take the rest of the month off. Get some things done around his condo.” He chuckled. “Which probably means I need to start looking for my own place pronto before he puts me to work.”
“Yeah, I can’t imagine he owns his own toolbox, let alone knows how to use anything in it.”
Ouch. As a matter of fact, he did have a toolbox and he was quite handy around his condo. He’d built onto his back porch last summer while Gavin and Gage sat on their butts and watched baseball, drinking all his alcohol. What kind of wuss did she think he was? “You’d be surprised what skills Grayson has,” he said flatly.
They reached the entrance to the cafeteria, turning the heads of several of his marketing executives sitting at a nearby table.
“I think this was a bad idea,” she said, turning to leave. “There’s a McDonald’s down the road. They have salads there.”
“What’s up with all the looks?” He touched his black shirt. “Am I wearing the wrong thing?”
“It’s not you. It’s me.” She turned to the counter line, grabbing two brown trays and handing one to him. “You know what? Let’s stay. They’re going to see more of me soon anyway. They might as well get used to it.”