The Bull Rider's Collection (44 page)

“So why does it feel like I did?” Jesse said, more to himself than his mother. “No worries, I’m not racked with guilt. I’m just thinking about some of my past decisions.”
And future ones
, he added silently.

“My sweet boy.” She patted his arm. Finishing off her beer, she grabbed a second one before she set down the first bottle.

Jesse waved a waitress over and took the full bottle away from his mom, setting it back in the bucket. “After we get some food.”

Jesse ordered his dinner, added a few items to Angie’s order, and asked the waitress to bring them a couple of iced teas as well. The two sat without talking for a few minutes after the waitress left.

“I can’t believe I bought a gallery.” Jesse finally broke the silence.

Angie took a sip of the iced tea that had just arrived. “I told you that Angelic says—”

“Mom, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not backing out of this deal because some nutcase says my dead ancestors are unhappy with my decision.” Jesse twirled the straw in between two fingers. “I may have acted rashly; I’ll admit that. But who knows when this kind of opportunity will appear again. I had to act fast.”

“And the fact that the gallery manager could be confused with a supermodel didn’t factor into your decision at all, right? That’s your story?”

“I didn’t know she was the manager when I said yes to Rich. You know how important art is to me. I just wanted, I don’t know, to be something besides a bull rider?” Jesse took off his ball cap and ran his fingers through his hair. He saw Taylor laugh at something her date said, and instantly Jesse went back to that moment in the studio when their gazes had connected. He’d felt so drawn to her.

A weekend out of town without risking the chance of running into Taylor DeMarco, that was what he needed. He’d have a clear head on Monday when he returned home.

Angie leaned back as the waitress set her plate of chicken and mushrooms in front of her. She waited for the waitress to deliver Jesse’s T-bone, loaded baked, and side of Tex-Mex corn before she spoke again. “Angelic says the purchase will cause upheaval.”

“I thought she drew the death card.” Jesse cut into his steak, perfectly cooked to medium rare. He took a bite, and the juice ran into his mouth. The sensation made him glance across the street to Taylor. He watched as she flipped her head back and smiled, really smiled. No, the woman needed out of his head sooner than later. Now that he knew she was involved, that just made the mental switch easier.

“I’ve been thinking about that. The card doesn’t have to mean an actual death. It could be the ending of a lifestyle, or maybe just represent the changeover of the gallery from their family to ours. Of course, we’re not a rich, connected family like the Harrison/DeMarco group. Are you sure you’re going to be able to keep the place going?” Angie cut her chicken into pieces as she chatted. She looked down at the plate and laughed. “I’ve been hanging out with the little ones too long. Look at what I did to my meat. I swear, those boys are changing my life even when I’m not playing Grandma Angie.”

Jesse chuckled. “Maybe that was the life-changing event your fortune teller saw? You turning into a normal grandmother type.”

“When hell freezes over,” Angie said. “I hope I can represent you and the family appropriately tomorrow. You know, I tend to say what’s on my mind.”

Jesse took his mother’s hand. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I need to know what I’ve gotten myself into before the sale is finalized. They’ve allowed me a two-week grace period to have my advisors look over the investment. You can spot a fraud faster than most people, even if you don’t know a thing about art.”

“Are you looking for a way out?” Angie twisted off a bottle cap and sipped the cold beer.

Jesse glanced over at the couple across the street, now eating their dinner. In his mind, he could see himself in the place of the man having dinner with Taylor. His mother was right—he had it bad. “Let’s just see what’s really going on there and we’ll make a final decision in two weeks. I don’t want to be swayed by the trappings.”

His mom smiled and her words echoed in his head. “Sometimes fate brings you home.”

“The woman is crazy.” Taylor glanced out her office door to see if her new BFF was within earshot. “I swear, she thinks she has to be glued to my side.”

“I thought it was the cute bull rider who bought the gallery, not his mother.” Brit sat on the leather couch, flipping through a portfolio. She reached the end of the book, closing it with a sigh. “I wish people wouldn’t just drop these off. I can tell from the first two pages his art isn’t up to show level yet. Maybe we could have a ‘no portfolio’ policy.”

“I’m sure the new owner will want to implement a lot of new policies. You should bring it up with the two out there.” Taylor pointed to the front where Angie stood talking to Barb. “They seem to be making plans already.”

Brit laughed. “I haven’t seen you this tweaked since that girl showed up unannounced at Ken’s house during the senior party.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I made a complete and utter fool of myself that night.” Taylor hadn’t thought about her cheating, quarterback boyfriend for years. “She swore she didn’t know he and I were even dating, let alone almost engaged. The jerk was playing her and me.” She hated to think about Ken or Brad. Why was she so drawn to the bad boy? The man who couldn’t commit to or love one just one person. Jesse Sullivan had a lot in common with her past boyfriends. He was handsome, charming, and a player. She wouldn’t go down that road again.

“That’s because you didn’t put out like she did,” Brit said. She opened another portfolio, carefully avoiding Taylor’s eyes.

Taylor threw a pencil at her friend. “How do you know? Maybe I was a complete and utter slut with Ken?”

“Give me a break. Who was your best friend all during high school? You told me everything.” Brit’s smile widened. “Even that time you kissed the guy with the motorcycle at the dance in Kuna.”

“One kiss is a lot different than what Ken was doing.” Taylor leaned back in her chair. “How’d we get on this subject, anyway?”

“You started it.”

“I did not.” Taylor saw a flash of movement, and there in her office doorway stood Barbara Carico, Jesse Sullivan’s manager and friend. Or were they more than friends? With Barb’s wild red hair and slender body, a man would be a fool not to seal that deal. A stab of jealousy ran through Taylor’s body. Why did she care who the bull rider felt attracted to? She stood and pasted on a smile. “Hey, anything I can help you with?”

Barb smiled a genuine smile, unlike the fake one plastered on Taylor’s face. “Angie and I are heading out to grab some lunch. If you have time, we’d love to have you join us.”

Taylor swallowed hard, pushing down the anger that gripped her. “I don’t think so. I still have to finalize the sales from the showing.”

Brit stood. “Go ahead, Taylor. I’ll handle all that.” She grabbed a file then leaned in close to Taylor and said, “Time to do some recon of your own.”

Taylor stared at her friend, realizing the girl was right. What could it hurt to get to know these two a little better? Maybe she’d find a weak spot. One she could exploit before the two weeks expired. If Mr. Sullivan trusted these two, dropping a few false leads might work in her favor. She met Brit’s gaze and nodded. “Thanks, Brit. Has Angie been to the tearoom over at The Bon? It’s a perfect place for lunch.”

“Actually, Angie has her heart set on going to Dave’s,” Barb said. “I guess they do a mean burger.”

Taylor frowned. “The bar over on Fifth? I didn’t realize they were still open, let alone serving lunch.”

Brit looked like she was going to burst out laughing, and Taylor shot her a warning look.

“Angie knows the owner. I think they had a thing years ago when they both lived in Vegas.” Barb smiled. “The woman knows more people than I do, especially men. Look, I know she can be a little grating, but she has a good heart. And she’d do anything for her boys.”

Taylor focused on Barb’s words. Was that a veiled warning? Telling her that the Sullivan boy was off-limits? The more she thought about this, the more she knew Brit was right. Time to find out what she was up against. Taylor grabbed her purse from the desk drawer and slung it over her coral pantsuit. Not exactly bar clothes, but it would have to do. “I’d love to have lunch with you.”

She waved to Brit and walked outside with Barb. Angie stood waiting on the sidewalk with a half-smoked cigarette in her hand.

The woman blushed. “I’m working on stopping. It’s just harder than I thought it would be.”

Barb put her arm around the older woman. “No worries, I’m not going to rat you out.” She glanced at Taylor and raised her eyebrows, urging the young gallery manager to agree.

“None of my business,” Taylor said. She glanced down at her stacked platforms. “I should be good for the walk, unless you want to drive?”

“Heavens, no. We drive too much here.” Angie stubbed out her cigarette in a flowerpot sitting by the gallery door. Taylor cringed.

If Sullivan took over the gallery they’d be selling authentic Indian headdresses and rodeo gear, and opening a beer bar in the back, sooner or later. She had to talk her folks out of this deal. Averting her eyes, she put on her best fake smile and brightly said, “Then we’re off.”

The inside of the bar was dark. Spilled beer, years of cigarette smoke, and grease from the kitchen assaulted Taylor as soon as she stepped inside. The three women sat in a booth. The red vinyl seats had turned brown from age, and the dark wood of the table was scratched and gnarled with use. Thankfully, someone had wiped it down before they arrived. A waitress or barmaid, Taylor wasn’t sure what role the woman held, dropped off three menus and three plastic cups filled with water and ice.

“What can I get you to drink?” the woman asked. Taylor looked up, ready to order a glass of white wine. She stopped mid-order when she noticed a tattoo on the top exposed part of the woman’s breast. It looked like … No, it couldn’t be. Taylor felt Angie’s and Barb’s gazes on her.

“Sheryl, show Taylor the rest of your tattoo,” Angie said. “You’ll love this.”

The woman, Sheryl, grinned and leaned in closer. “You’re not the first to notice. I got this last month.” She pulled down her elastic neckline and Taylor was rewarded with the full view of a fully erect circumcised penis inked on the woman’s breast. “My husband likes to tell people it’s not at full scale, but he’s fooling himself. The man isn’t as well endowed as he thinks.”

Taylor bit back a laugh. “Can I get a glass of white wine?”

Sheryl nodded, then listed off the available brands. Although they weren’t the quality of wines the gallery carried at openings, they weren’t that bad. Taylor ordered a dry chardonnay from Sun Valley winery, the same brand she kept at her house for
those
kind of days.

After Angie and Barb ordered their own drinks, beer and a large coke, Sheryl disappeared, promising to be right back.

“Sorry about the tattoo. Sheryl’s pretty proud of it. She says her tips have tripled since she got inked.” Angie grinned. “I bet you don’t see that in the places you go.”

Taylor laughed. “You’re right about that. I don’t think I’ve been in this bar since I was eighteen and trying not to get carded.”

“Yeah, Gary had some issues with his bartenders when he took over the place. He had to put the fear of God into them. He’s gotten rid of the few that wouldn’t respect the law.” Angie studied the menu.

“Gary?” Taylor asked.

“The owner.”

“So his name’s not Dave?” She glanced at the top of the menu.

Angie laughed. “Dave started the bar in the ’70s. He was a great guy, fun loving, had a wicked sense of humor. Gary kept the name after he bought the place, kind of like a tribute.”

Sheryl came back, dropped off their drinks, and took their lunch order. “Ten minutes, at the most. We’re just like a chain place. You can get in and out in your thirty-minute lunch hour.”

“And still get your beer,” Barb added dryly when Sheryl was out of earshot. She held up her hands in mock surrender. “I know, I’m being a snob. But seriously, look at that guy over at the bar. You know he’s been here since it opened this morning.”

“Probably never left last night,” Taylor added, turning to glance at the man. He wore jeans and a gray t-shirt, and had salt-and-pepper hair that stood up in random places on his head.

Angie sniffed. “You both are snobs. Nothing wrong with a man sitting at a bar all day. Maybe he’s homeless and this is the only place he can sit.”

Barb leaned into Angie and gave her a hug. “You’re always looking for the best in people. I know; I shouldn’t judge.”

“I just think you need to be more open to the lost souls in the world.” Angie’s fingers drummed on the lacquered tabletop, diamond rings flashing in the glow cast from the neon sign lighting their table. Taylor took a long look at Angie. For all the bling around her neck and the bright yellow satin pants with matching floral-print shirt, the woman’s words didn’t match her sixties Barbie look.

“My mom would tell me the same thing,” Taylor admitted. “My friends and I would go to the mall and laugh about someone’s outfit, or the way they were dressed. But if my mom caught us, we knew we were in trouble. One day she took us to the rescue mission, and we served lunch for a week.”

“Sounds like your mother raised you right.” Angie nodded.

Taylor tilted her head. “Did you do the same thing to Jesse when he was a kid?”

Angie’s face paled and tears filled her eyes. Taylor froze. What had she said?

Finally Barb spoke up. “Angie didn’t raise the boys. They lived with their dad.” Her quiet voice told Taylor there was much more to the story.

“Oh.” Taylor dug into her purse and handed Angie a tissue. “I didn’t mean to be too personal.”

Angie took the tissue and waved away Taylor’s apology. “No worries. My issues.” She blew her nose. “Barb went to school with James and Jesse in Shawnee. They were all friends.”

Taylor focused on Barb. “Shawnee? Does that place even have a school?”

“Hey, it’s not that small. Okay, it’s not big like Boise, but yes, Shawnee had three schools: elementary, middle, and high school. I was friends with Lizzie, who dated James. Therefore, Jesse tagged along, too. We’ve been friends for years.”