Kitty Valentine Dates a Cowboy Page 2

  “I thought you were working on the jigsaw puzzle!”

  I glance over to where the puzzle waits. Matt wasn’t kidding around or exaggerating. I’ve only filled in the borders. “Of course, I love the puzzle. It’s not the puzzle’s fault I’ve had the attention span of a gnat lately. I blame the internet.”

  “I’m only teasing.” Hayley flashes one of her winning smiles, which is just as dazzling on my phone screen as it is in real life. “You need more than a jigsaw puzzle. You need a bigger life in general. But you knew that already.”

  “My life is big in general! Can I achieve balance? I mean, I could try. But you have this way of making it sound like I’m the only person in the world who has ever failed to achieve work-life balance. And that just isn’t true.” I narrow my eyes at her. “Besides, don’t even pretend like you aren’t a workhorse.”

  “I need to be if I ever want to make partner.” My best friend is a driven girl, and I have to give her credit for working hard toward her goals.

  “But you know what I mean. You took calls, and I even saw you sneaking in work emails when we were away for your sister’s wedding.”

  “Like I really wanted to do that! And it’s not like I was initiating. I was replying to emails from other people.”

  “I know. I know. Look what it got you. A promotion to junior associate.”

  “Exactly. You’re right though; we both work a lot. But you are practically a hermit. At least I’m around other people. Anyway, anyway”—she waves a hand around in front of the screen—“I didn’t call to argue with you.”

  “Well, that’s good to hear.” I plop down on the couch, pulling my feet up under me. “So, what’s up?”

  “You know what time it is.” Slowly, she raises the spinner, so I can see it.

  “Are you sure you didn’t rig it this time?”

  Last time we spun to see which romantic hero I would write about and therefore date, she’d changed every entry to Best Man, determined to hook me up with the best man at her sister’s wedding.

  Kellen. He was hot and definitely knew what he was doing. That part of things went well. Extremely well actually. We were very compatible.

  It was the whole drama after coming home that put an end to things. Namely the fact that he’d lied to me about his gambling addiction. These past few weeks, I’ve wondered if he’s the reason I was thrown off. It was difficult to end my book with a happy ending, knowing we hadn’t really gotten one.

  I wish him well, and from what I understand, he’s working hard to turn things around.

  And it’s time for me to move on. If only because I need to start writing another book soon.

  And because, let’s face it, if Matt’s getting under my skin, I need to get laid.

  “I didn’t rig it, I promise. Look.” She spins it once and then again. The first time, it lands on Biker—as in motorcycles—and the next time, Chef.

  I snap my fingers and pout. “Darn it. I could go for a sexy scene on top of a prep table.”

  “Who knows? Maybe we’ll land on it again.”

  We do not land on it again.

  What we do land on, however, makes my eyebrows just about shoot up off my head. “Oh, hello.”

  Hayley giggles. “Cowboy! Giddyup, little lady!”

  “Gee, what a terrible job I have.” I pretend to sigh and swoon.

  “Listen, if you’re not up to the challenge, I would be happy to do this for you and tell you about it after our dates.”

  “Oh, you’re such a sweet friend. Do I tell you that often enough?”

  “It’s okay. I don’t do it for the recognition.”

  Once I finish laughing, I shake my head. “Sorry. For this one, my research has to be firsthand. I’ll catch you up on how things go.”

  “You know I’ll be waiting.”

  “Now, the ever-looming question: where will I find this guy? It was one thing when I knew where to find a best man, you know?”

  “You need help? I’ll find you a cowboy.”

  “I love your confidence, but where the heck would you find a cowboy?”

  “I have my ways.” When I roll my eyes, she sticks her tongue out at me. “We have all kinds of clients, remember?”

  “Last time you hooked me up with one of your firm’s clients, it didn’t go so well.”

  She grimaces at the memory. My brief fling with a rock star—a has-been, if I’m being honest—didn’t exactly end well. “We’ll do better this time. Let’s see … cowboys. That makes me think of ranchers and oil tycoons.”

  “Tycoons. That sounds like the sort of client your firm would handle.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. Maybe ask your grandmother if she knows anybody in the oil business too.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “No, thank you. I’m not trying to date somebody who’s decrepit.”

  “Decrepit, old men with money generally have young grandsons, who are prepared to inherit that money,” she points out with a sly wink.

  “Why, Hayley”—I clutch my invisible pearls—“you sound downright mercenary.”

  “Just saying. I’ll take a look at some of our client lists and find out if there’s anybody coming into town anytime soon. I’m sure we can find someone.”

  “We don’t have to do anything, you know. I don’t want you to feel like you have to spend your valuable time working on this.”

  “It’s a diversion. I mean, look what I would be doing otherwise.” She pans the phone’s camera, letting me see the piles of folders and stacks of paper spread out over her coffee table and the floor surrounding it.

  The girl has a way of making me love my job more than I already did. “Is there anything I can do for you? Maybe order you up some dinner or a case of wine or something?”

  “The case of wine sounds pretty good right about now,” she admits. “I’m going to try to take a little time off this weekend. Do you want to catch brunch?”

  “Yes!”

  “Is that enthusiasm for me or for brunch?”

  I wince, squinting my eyes until they’re almost shut. “Both?”

  “Honestly, that’s better than I expected.”

  “The oil business?” Grandmother looks beyond me, over at the wall behind where I’m sitting in her parlor. “Hmm. Do I know anyone …”

  “What’s this about?” Peter joins us with a pot of tea.

  No matter how many times Grandmother reminds him he doesn’t need to act like a paid servant anymore—she’s hired help to replace him now that they’re together as a couple—old habits die hard. He’s used to taking care of her, seeing to her needs. I guess when things have been a certain way for more than thirty years, it’ll take more than a few months to change it up.

  “My new book hero has to be a cowboy,” I explain while he pours for the three of us.

  He gives me a wink. “I didn’t know you rode.”

  “I’m sure I could learn.”

  “The only people I’ve ever known who made their living in oil are long dead,” Grandmother confesses with a shrug.

  I can’t wait to tell Hayley I was right, no matter how immature it makes me. It probably shouldn’t have been my first thought, but a girl has to take her victories someplace, and Hayley is a super genius who’s almost never wrong about anything.

  “I figured it was worth asking.” I pick out an egg salad sandwich with the crusts cut off. “Is this your egg salad recipe?” I ask Peter.

  “Of course. I know better than to try to serve you someone else’s recipe.”

  So, maybe Grandmother isn’t the only person he likes to do little things for.

  “You know”—Grandmother places her cup and saucer on the table between us with a thoughtful expression—“I am chairing a charity ball, scheduled to take place this weekend. It’s for the Children’s Hospital. There are bound to be a few heavy hitters there.”

  Why does Peter look so relieved?

  “That’s a good idea. She could go with you.”

  She turns t
o him with a frown. “My, it didn’t take long for you to arrive at that conclusion.”

  Whoops. Something tells me there’s been trouble in paradise, and I walked right into it.

  I take a second sandwich just for the sake of having something to do. Good thing they’re so yummy.

  “Don’t be offended.” He pats her hand with a gentle smile. “But we’ve had this discussion. It would be better for you if someone other than myself attended the ball with you.”

  Oh, of course. Yet another issue that won’t magically go away. The fact that Grandmother has already cut people out of her life for being anything less than thrilled when they found out she and Peter started a relationship. I can only hope I’m as kick-ass as she is someday.

  And I very much wish I’d been there when she told off her number one frenemy, Whitney.

  I clear my throat. “I’m always up for a ball.” This is a lie. I don’t love going to these fancy-schmancy events. Usually wondering in the back of my mind how long it’ll take before I do something awkward.

  Not if do. When I do. It’s pretty much inevitable.

  If it gets Peter off the hook though, I’ll gladly go. Not only has he taken care of her all these years, but he’s also made her so happy since they got together after her heart attack a few months ago. Life events like a heart attack tend to put things into perspective and show us what we otherwise were missing.

  Plus, I do need to find a cowboy. Hayley made a good point. Wealthy, old men generally have wealthy grandsons, and it’s the grandsons I’m interested in.

  Grandmother seems to shake herself a little before turning to me, like she forgot I was here. Too busy staring daggers at her boyfriend. “Well, dear, since it would appear I’m suddenly going solo, I would love to have you there. And even if we don’t land you an oil magnate, there are bound to be scads of wealthy, young men there.”

  I glance at Peter. “Hey, it doesn’t matter if they’re wealthy. I don’t care about that.”

  Like he needs to hear her going on about money right now. Sometimes, she just doesn’t think. I love her to pieces, but she’s not always sensitive to how her comments might be taken.

  It strikes me—and not for the first time—that Peter has to be a brave man. It’s one thing for him to deal with her social circle being a bunch of snobs, but then he has to deal with her, and that can’t be a walk in the park.

  At least he’s used to her ways. He wouldn’t love her if he wasn’t.

  Why does that immediately bring Matt to mind?

  “Oh dear.”

  Thank goodness my grandmother figures out a way to change the subject because, now, I don’t know what the heck sort of tricks my brain is trying to pull on me. Making me think of Matt just because he said he liked me the way I was.

  I mean, why wouldn’t he? I’m a freaking treat.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “I nearly forgot. There’s something else I wanted to discuss with you.”

  When her blue eyes slide over toward Peter and they share a slight grin, I don’t know whether to be glad for the change of subject or regretful. They’re plotting something.

  “I’m afraid to ask … what is it?”

  “You might or might not recall, but there’s a special day coming at the end of this month …” Her grin turns to a smile.

  “Oh jeez.” I blow out a long sigh, looking up at the ceiling. “You know I don’t go for the big, fancy gestures, Grandmother. I don’t need anything special.”

  “But you deserve it, which is another issue entirely.”

  “Can I talk you out of wanting to plan something?”

  Peter chuckles. “Talk your grandmother out of wanting to plan something? Why not talk the sun out of the sky while you’re at it?”

  Grandmother lets him know how she feels about this with a single sniff before tossing her head. “Fine. If you would rather everyone ignore your birthday this year, that’s just wonderful.”

  “I didn’t say—”

  “Just because it means a great deal to see my granddaughter happy.”

  “You don’t have to cancel every—”

  She heaves a sigh I would laugh at if she wasn’t using it against me. “Don’t worry about me, dear. I wouldn’t want you to feel obligated to your grandmother simply because there’s no telling how many of your birthdays I’ll live to see.”

  My jaw’s on the floor by the time she turns to Peter.

  “I think I need to go upstairs and lie down.”

  “You’re strong as an ox, and you know it.” He laughs, though he does stand to help her to her feet.

  I’m getting my things together when he joins me in the front hall.

  He runs a hand over his head and what little gray hair is left. “She really is something.”

  “Yeah, she is.” I look up the stairs. “And super subtle.”

  “You can’t be too hard on her. She likes to have her way, yes. But in this case, she wants to do something nice for you because she loves you.”

  “Which is the only reason I didn’t flat-out refuse. But her idea of a good time and mine are totally different. I don’t want one of those swanky parties. I want to feel like I can breathe and be myself without dozens of pairs of eyes staring at me and judging me.”

  He slides his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “That much we agree on.”

  Yes, we would, wouldn’t we?

  “Can you talk some sense into her? I’d like to go to dinner at a quiet place, just us, than do anything else.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. Now, maybe you can do something for me.” He looks up the stairs this time with a rueful smile. “I know she wants to battle any dragon who comes her way, standing in front of me with a sword and shield. I would rather she not.”

  “She does it because she loves you.”

  “Now, don’t use my words on me.” But there’s a twinkle in his eye. “And I want to avoid uncomfortable situations whenever possible because I love her. Between you and me, one thing a domestic servant knows is the way people talk. Those who are good at their job know how to fade into the background. Some employers and their friends completely lose track of who occupies a room with them. They say whatever is on their mind about who and whatever is the current topic of interest.” The twinkle fades, and his face falls a little. “They say terrible things. I wouldn’t have them talking about her that way.”

  I lean in and kiss his wrinkled cheek. “You’re the one with the sword and shield, and don’t think I don’t know it. I wasn’t kidding all those times I said you were my favorite thing about her. There’s no contest.”

  “You’ll explain things to her and look out for her at the ball?”

  “I sure will.”

  And if anyone there thinks they can get away with gossiping about either of them, they’ll get an earful from me.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Sit up straight, dear.”

  Grandmother is feeling extra cranky tonight. Awesome. I’m so glad we’re spending time together in her car, stuck in traffic on the way to the ball.

  So she can criticize me.

  “You should wear your hair down more often,” she admonishes. “Swept over one shoulder in that strapless dress? Now, that would be dramatic. That would be eye-catching.”

  I touch a self-conscious hand to the updo I spent an hour on. “I’m sorry I didn’t run my choice of hairstyle past you but last time I got dressed up, you told me to show off my shoulders.”

  “Don’t get snippy with me.”

  “I wasn’t trying to.” I was. “You’re so grumpy tonight.”

  “I’ve worked my fingers to the bone for this event, and I want to be certain it goes well.” She checks out her lipstick in a gold compact before touching up the powder on her nose. “Last year, Whitney chaired. I want to outdo her in every way, if you must know.”

  “Obviously. But I’m sure it’ll be great. You always know how to make things perfect.”

  She snaps th
e compact shut with a decisive click. “I wish that were true.”

  There’s a touch of sadness in her voice, and immediately, I soften under it.

  “Are you thinking about Peter?”

  “Who else?” She turns her face to mine, and I hate the strain there. “I wish he were here with me. Not that I mean to offend you, dear.”

  “I don’t take offense. I’m sure you would rather have the person who means more to you than anybody right here by your side.”

  “I wish he understood better how little I care what they think. What any of them think.”

  “I know you don’t care, but he cares about you, and he wants to avoid putting you in a situation where things will be uncomfortable and tense. Considering you’re about to show that Whitney up tonight and teach her how a charity function should be run, no wonder he wanted to take himself out of the equation. He wanted to step aside, so everything would be perfect for you.”

  “I didn’t want him to. What’s the good of perfection if you don’t have the person you love with you?”

  We’re not generally the touchy-feely type together, but we’ve been more so since her heart attack. She was most definitely raised before that became a thing.

  I reach over and pat her hand. “Sometimes, when people love us, they think they know better about what we need than we do. I think that might be the case here. He’s so sure he’s going to hold you back, and that’s the last thing he’d ever want to do.” I lean in, whispering, “And he knows how stubborn you are. Even if your relationship hurt you somehow, he knows you’d insist it doesn’t.”

  Her crimson lips come together in a thin line.

  “I thought so.” I pat her hand one more time before looking out the window to gauge where we are. “I think we’re getting closer. Should be there any minute.”

  “I’m sure they’ve destroyed everything by now,” she frets.

  I don’t know who they are, but I feel sorry for them if even one centerpiece is a millimeter out of place.

  It isn’t. None of them are. The ballroom is magnificent, like something out of a dream. Candlelight, crystal, dramatic lighting, and so many flowers. The scent of roses and peonies hangs in the air. They drip from the elevated centerpieces and from an elaborate arch set above the doors leading into the room.