the mud before giving her a serious position.
“That’s Karina’s project,” Harrison said, his voice tight and angry. “She doesn’t need any help.”
“Isn’t the photo shoot scheduled for next week?”
“Yes.”
“It’s my understanding that she has yet to sign the final candidate.”
Harrison frowned. He was probably thinking the same thing as Lexy. Why would their father even know something so trivial? “You did set stringent parameters.” Harrison set his cup and saucer down clumsily. “The top-seed rodeo stars aren’t convinced that endorsing a fragrance is a smart move. Yet.”
That in itself should’ve given Harrison his first clue, Lexy thought, but kept silent.
“I made it clear. We play in the big leagues or we don’t play at all.” Her father’s chilly gaze bore into Harrison’s.
Lexy’s eyes were the same color blue but she fervently hoped they never looked that cold and hard. “I still don’t understand what you want from me,” she said, even though she had the horrific feeling she knew exactly what he intended.
“You’ve always been quick on your feet, Alexis. And quite persuasive. A week should be sufficient for you to find an acceptable candidate so we can finally put this—” he waved dismissively “—business to rest.”
“You never intended to let me see this project through.” Harrison stood, flushed with anger. “Did you?”
Annoyance flashed across their father’s face. “Have you ever known me to vacillate? You asked, I said yes. The ball’s in your court. I’m even offering your sister to help you.”
“And if I don’t want her help?”
He leaned back, an amused gleam in his eyes. “Then perhaps I should give her your office and leave you free to run all the fool’s errands you want.”
Lexy stared down at her clasped hands. Could this meeting be any more dreadful? She couldn’t look at Harrison, even though she felt awful for him. Their father had always been a stern taskmaster, but he hadn’t been cruel.
Harrison had played the dutiful son, attended Harvard, resisted his odd penchant for women who many would consider tacky and inappropriate. After school he’d taken no time to blow off steam but immediately joined the company. He didn’t deserve this treatment.
Knowing this, she still said nothing in his defense. She simply allowed the silence to fester. Until Harrison left the office without another word. Only then did she look up. “Was that really necessary?”
“Don’t tell me you’re getting soft.”
That line in the sand? She could feel her toes right up against it. God, she really should tell him to keep his job, that she no longer wanted it. But she couldn’t face the growing list of creditors. “Fine. What’s next?” she asked, lifting her chin.
“Go to Human Resources and fill out the necessary paperwork. Then I suggest you get out there and find the right cowboy.”
Lexy didn’t say another word as she rose and let herself out. Human Resources? Really? For God’s sake.
Norma was waiting for her. “I knew he’d pull something like this,” she said, and waved a hand when Lexy smiled. “Of course I was listening. I had a feeling he was up to no good and I wanted to be prepared. Right after you called last week he asked me to check on the status of the calendar...which we both know he doesn’t give a tinker’s damn about.” She slipped around her desk. “When I told him they were having trouble finding the last man, he seemed mighty pleased. So I asked myself, what is the old goat up to?”
Lexy watched her pull a manila folder from her bottom drawer and then motion for Lexy to follow. They walked quickly to the elevators and got into the first private car.
“This man’s endorsement contract with us expires in just under two weeks,” Norma said, holding up the folder. “Harrison signed him for that ridiculous Sundowner accessory line that failed. But the guy is perfect. He’s a bareback bronc rider who’s won two world championships, gold buckles, million-dollar purses, the whole thing. I remembered him because my Henry is such a big rodeo fan. This Tanner fellow is over thirty and on the downslide right now so maybe he’ll do it.” Norma passed her the folder. “Worth a try.”
“Why didn’t you give this to the woman who’s in charge of the project?”
“Frankly, I’d hoped I was wrong and your father wouldn’t send you on a wild-goose chase just to show you who’s boss. It pains me to see him treat you this way.” She squeezed Lexy’s hand. “If it had turned out I’d misread Marshall, I would’ve given Harrison the file. But Karina?” Norma sniffed. “I do not care for that woman.”
Lexy grinned. “Norma, you’re the absolute best.” The elevator doors slid open and Lexy stuffed the folder into her purse. If her father expected failure, she couldn’t wait to disappoint him.
2
LEANING ON A cedar post and watching the last saddle bronc event, Will Tanner muttered a curse when he saw his friend go flying over the mare’s head. Charlie hit the ground, landing hard on his ass, but jumped up quick as a jackrabbit. The crowd roared from the stands, surging to their feet with applause when Charlie whipped off his hat and waved it. He’d been around the circuit for a long time and was a fan favorite, even when he was losing. Something that happened too often lately. Just like with Tanner.
“That ol’ guy sure can take a lotta punishment.” Clay stood next to him, one foot propped on the bottom rail. He reached in his jeans’ pocket, glanced at his fancy iPhone, then looked at Tanner. “You been busted up pretty good in your day. How many bones have you broken?”
In your day.
The words were as irritating as a yipping coyote.
Tanner squinted at the fresh-faced kid who was barely twenty. Probably only started shaving last year. Didn’t stop him from trying to grow one of those dumb little soul patches. “Enough,” Tanner said, turning back to see Charlie limp to the gate, watching for the scores to go up.
He was only thirty-four, a year older than Tanner, and had the good sense to announce that after this year he was done rodeoing. It was gonna be strange following the tour without Charlie. For over twelve years, even when they hadn’t traveled or bunked together, their paths had regularly crossed. But that’s the way it was with most of the veteran riders. They’d all played poker together, got drunk together and chased women. Until they started winning gold buckles and didn’t have to do the chasing anymore.
Clay’s thumbs worked feverishly on the cell’s keypad. Tanner still hadn’t gotten the hang of texting. Hell, half the time he couldn’t remember to turn on his relic of a phone. When he did, it usually needed charging.
“So where you headed next?” Clay asked, his attention focused on the small screen until he finished his message and stuffed the iPhone back in his pocket. He caught Tanner’s frown. “I was just tweeting my scores.”
Tanner nodded like he understood. This new breed of cowboy was something else. They drank protein shakes instead of beer, fretted over their exercise regimens and sat around discussing their marketability.
Damn, he was gonna miss Charlie. The two of them had both come from flyspeck towns and started young, before iPhones and Facebook and Twitter took over the world. Maybe they should retire together and make T-shirts and bumper stickers that read Real Men Don’t Tweet.
“Where did you say you’re going?” Clay asked again.
“New Mexico.” Tanner backed away from the railing, adjusting his Stetson and peering up at the clear Montana sky. He had a few hours before nightfall. Enough time to get on the road and find a place to park his trailer overnight. No sense sticking around. His scores