Her Rodeo Man. Cathy McDavid

as charged.” Ryder hoped the man’s name would come to him without having to ask. “How are you...?” At the last second, his brain kicked in. “Tank.”

      “Dandy as a pig with slop.” They shook hands. “I heard you were back and working for the family.”

      He’d said for the family, not with the family. To Ryder, there was a large distinction. Did everyone in town think like Tank, that Ryder had been given a job as opposed to being made a part of the business?

      Then again, did he care? He was leaving soon.

      Once more, Ryder questioned his motives for returning. He could have chosen somewhere else to lay low. Eventually found temporary employment. But he’d allowed loyalty to his father and Liberty’s heartfelt pleas to sway him.

      “What happened to that fancy job you had in Phoenix?” Tank asked. “Your mom was always telling everyone what a big shot you were and how much money you made. This must be a step down.”

      Damned if Tank could hit below the belt.

      “Dad asked for my help, and here I am. Family comes first.”

      “Sure. Course.” Tank may or may not have believed Ryder, but he didn’t dispute him. “Got me a family of my own now. A wife and little boy.”

      “Congratulations.”

      “Heard about your divorce. Sorry, man.” Tank didn’t sound particularly remorseful or sympathetic.

      “It was a long time ago.”

      Ryder did the math. Thirteen years.

      He’d met Sasha, a woman eight years his senior, right out of college, and she was like no one he’d ever known. Confident, sexy and adventurous, in and out of bed. Unfortunately, they fell out of love as quickly as they’d fallen in and spent the next year making each other miserable before coming to their senses.

      The only good part about the marriage had been Sasha’s little girls. Ryder had liked them and frequently spent more time with them than their own mother did, especially near the end. They, in turn, adored him. Leaving them behind had hurt.

      One short-lived relationship after another had him swearing off any commitments for the foreseeable future. This last debacle with his coworker had only reinforced it.

      “One of these days, you’ll meet the right person,” Tank said.

      “I guess.”

      Beside him, the gas nozzle clicked loudly. Ryder reached for it. “Nice seeing you, Tank. You ever bring your family around the Easy Money?”

      “We’re coming to the Wild West Days Rodeo. Already bought our tickets.”

      “Good. Looking forward to seeing you there.”

      They shook hands again, and Ryder climbed into his truck. Starting the engine, he heard Tank’s words again—working for your family—then slammed the heels of both hands on the steering wheel. He wasn’t mad at Tank; he was mad at himself.

      Enough was enough. He’d let this happen, he thought, and he could remedy it. Pulling out his smartphone, he went through his saved emails. There! He found it. The one from a friend giving Ryder the name of a headhunter. He dialed the number and set the phone down. The next second, his Bluetooth kicked in, and he could hear ringing through the speaker on his dash. When the receptionist answered, he asked to be put through to Myra Solomon.

      “This is Myra.”

      Ryder introduced himself, giving the name of his friend. “He suggested I give you a call.”

      “I’m glad you did. Tell me a little about yourself and what kind of job you’re looking for.”

      Ryder talked as he drove, casting his termination in the best possible light. When he finished, Myra groaned tiredly.

      “Cut the B.S., Ryder. If we’re going to work together, you have to be straight with me. Save the sugarcoated version for prospective employers.”

      “I quit.”

      “I know that. I’m interested in why.”

      “My boss and I didn’t share the same visions.”

      “Whatever happened, we’ll work around it,” Myra said. “But in order to help you, I have to know what really went down. If not, you’re wasting both our time.”

      Ryder swallowed. He’d been through this before with another headhunter. “I quit rather than be sued.”

      “For what?”

      “Inappropriate conduct.”

      Myra whistled. “How inappropriate?”

      “Not at all.”

      “Then, why?”

      Now it was Ryder’s turn to groan. “I was dating a woman at work. One of my subordinates. A member of my team, actually. And before you ask, there was no company policy against employees fraternizing.”

      “Did you advise HR? Sign any kind of agreement?”

      “Yes, we advised HR, and there was no agreement for us to sign. When the relationship ended, I advised HR of that, as well.”

      “Then, where does the inappropriate conduct come in?”

      “We dated for four months. She wanted more, to move in together, and I didn’t. Rather than string her along, I ended things.”

      “That’s it?”

      “Not entirely. She didn’t take the breakup well. She’d call me at all hours and corner me in the office. A couple of our discussions got a little heated. About a week later, one of the other team members received a promotion she was also in line for. She believed I blackballed her.”

      “And did you?”

      “Absolutely not. I was asked for my input on both candidates and gave them both good recommendations. No favoritism. The next day she filed a complaint.”

      “You just said you showed no favoritism. What were her grounds?”

      “During one of those heated discussions, she got carried away. I tried calming her by putting my hand on her arm. She later claimed that I touched her inappropriately.”

      “Were there any witnesses?”

      “A few. They reported seeing me touch her but not where. They weren’t close enough.”

      “Excuse me for stating the obvious, Ryder, but that was stupid. You should have avoided this woman at all costs. Especially after she started calling you. In fact, you should have alerted HR that she was harassing you.”

      “Live and learn.”

      “Is any of this in your personnel records?”

      “No. That was part of the deal we reached. She dropped the suit, and I quit.”

      “Well, that’s one good thing.”

      “Not really. Advertising is a small world, and it’s filled with big mouths. Even though I did nothing wrong, a lot of companies are reluctant to hire me. She got what she wanted after all.”

      “Then you move out of state,” Myra said matter-of-factly.

      “I’m considering it.”

      “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll email you our representation contract. Once you send it back, we’ll set up a meeting. Wear your best tie. My assistant will film a short interview with standard questions. We should be able to generate some interest with that. We’ll also polish your résumé and rehearse answers to potentially difficult questions. What’s your email address?”

      They discussed a few more details before disconnecting. Ryder felt both better—he was being proactive and taking steps—and