Home on the Ranch: Colorado: Big City Cowboy / Colorado Cowboy. Julie Benson

sucks to be you.”

      Elizabeth grabbed a scrap of paper off the desk, wadded it up and tossed it at her friend. The shot fell short, landing in Chloe’s lap. “I don’t need you pointing out the obvious. What I need are suggestions on how to keep Rory from strangling me when I talk to him.”

      “The best you can hope for is avoiding a major scene and/or violence.”

      Elizabeth laid her head on the desk. “You’re right. I’m going down in flames.” She peeked up at Chloe. “Where did you go the last time you were going to break up with a guy and you were worried he’d make a scene?”

      “I’ll chalk up that comment as a stress-induced insensitivity.” Chloe tossed the wad of paper at Elizabeth, and it bounced off her head. “When I was worried Jason would make a scene when I broke up with him, I did the deed at Bar American.”

      “Brilliant idea.” Elizabeth straightened. “Hope springs eternal. No one makes a scene at a restaurant, especially one of Bobby Flay’s.”

      “That idea will cost two white peach margaritas from Mesa Grill.”

      “Well worth the price, and speaking of Mesa Grill, I think we’ll eat there. The Southwestern food and atmosphere are more Rory’s style.” Elizabeth stood and walked across the room. “I’m off to call him. Hopefully he hasn’t eaten yet. I’ve got the making-a-scene issue under control, but how am I going to convince him to take a pay cut?”

      “I have no idea. You’re on your own there.”

      “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

      As she walked out of Chloe’s office, she told herself to think positive and pray, because that was her only hope—divine intervention.

      * * *

      ELIZABETH ARRIVED at the restaurant fifteen minutes early, in the hopes that by the time Rory showed up she’d have developed a strategy to convince him to agree to the pay reduction. As she waited, she told herself she wasn’t doing anything wrong. Rory hadn’t been signed to a contract. She acted on behalf of the client with the model. Despite all those logical reasons, the thought of renegotiating his contract left her feeling a little sleazy.

      She’d think positive. Would convince him this setback wasn’t permanent. He could turn this into an opportunity to impress the client, and get a huge raise on the next contract.

      Elizabeth thought for a minute. How lame was that? Unless Rory was comatose, no way would he buy it.

      She glanced around the restaurant. Hanging on one wall was a picture of a cow. Another had a picture of John Wayne in classic cowboy pose and dress. The booth upholstery was a print of cowboys on horses. Rory would fit right in. The restaurant should remind him of hearth and home, and hopefully put him in a good mood.

      By the time he arrived, ten minutes late, she hadn’t come up with a better option. After the maître d’ showed him to the table, Elizabeth bit her lip and resisted the urge to lecture him about the importance of promptness for business meetings.

      His hair was damp, as if he’d just crawled out of the shower, and curled at the collar of his plain white shirt. With that he wore a pair of navy slacks. She smiled when she noticed he still had on his cowboy boots and the royal flush belt buckle. Cowboy GQ. Not bad. Her pulse jumped. Seeing him now made her realize what a fool Devlin was to risk losing Rory by haggling over money.

      “I appreciate you meeting with me after such a long day.” She looked pointedly at her watch once he sat across from her.

      “I had to eat. This way you’re picking up the tab.”

      Elizabeth winced. If Rory was worrying about the cost of dinner, Chloe was right. She would go down in flames once she brought up renegotiating his salary.

      For a moment she focused on the menu, not quite sure where to begin. Business meetings usually never bothered her, so why was this one making her uncomfortable? And it was more than the fact that she had to renegotiate his contract. Maybe because across the table from her sat one gorgeous man. She scoffed at the idea. She’d been alone at similar meetings before with way better-looking male models.

      Gay models. Big deal.

      From the red-hot glance he’d tossed her when he’d pulled off his shirt this afternoon, the man had to be straight. No gay man could look a woman in the eyes like that and nearly singe her eyebrows.

      The waiter took their drink orders, pulling her away from her unsettling thoughts. Deciding her brain was fuddled enough from lack of sleep, and this was a business meeting, she stuck with water. Rory ordered a beer.

      To repair any damage she’d done to their karma that afternoon, Elizabeth said, “First of all, I wanted to apologize if I offended you in any way at the shoot today. I’m afraid I may have come off a little harsh. There’s so much riding on this campaign, and it’s put me a bit on edge.”

      “I’m a big boy. I can take it.”

      His words, coupled with his sultry gaze, sent tremors rippling through Elizabeth. She grabbed her water glass and took a long sip, not quite sure what to make of his comment. The man either loved playing word games or was clueless about how what he said sounded to other people.

      Since ignoring the comment provided the wisest course, Elizabeth barreled onward. “I wanted to apprise you of what transpired today in my meeting with Micah Devlin.” Start with the positives. She sucked in a deep breath and smiled. “He was very happy with your photos. He thinks you definitely have the image and the presence he’s looking for to represent his company’s jeans.”

      Rory nodded, grabbed a slice of sourdough bread and slathered it with butter. “What’s our next step?”

      Out of the corner of her eye Elizabeth noticed an attractive redhead with perfect teeth flashing a smile Rory’s way.

      “We hope to get you on some morning shows.”

      He nodded again, revealing no signs of panic in his voice or his facial expression. Good. Elizabeth relaxed her grip on her water glass.

      The redhead continued to stare. A stunning blonde at the bar looked at Rory as if she wanted to skip dinner and go straight to him for dessert.

      On the good-news side, he garnered exactly the reaction Elizabeth had hoped for with women. On the negative side, having them openly drooling over him set off a feeling alarmingly close to jealousy in her.

      “How do you feel about doing interviews?” she asked. “Have you had any experience with that kind of situation?”

      “I’ve been interviewed for the local paper a time or two.”

      “Good.” That was better than nothing. Barely. “Then you’re used to having a reporter ask you questions.” Elizabeth almost stumbled over her words. What kind of tough questions could a local reporter ask? What do you think of the price of grain at the feed store? “Sometimes a reporter will put you on the spot. If you think it’ll make you more comfortable, we could do some practice interviews.”

      “Whatever you say.”

      Why was he being so agreeable? Nervousness tickled her spine. This couldn’t be the same man who’d refused to take off his shirt earlier today. Something was up, and from her interactions with Rory so far, she reasoned it couldn’t be good. Either that or the man had undergone a stubbornectomy since their photo shoot.

      She shook herself mentally. Quit borrowing trouble.

      The waiter placed a glass in front of Rory, then poured the bottled beer and asked if he could take their orders.

      “The ancho chile-honey glazed salmon is superb. I highly recommend it.” She turned to the waiter. “In fact, that’s what I’ll have tonight.”

      He nodded and turned to Rory.

      “I’ll have the rib eye, rare, and a side of mashed potatoes.”