Читать книгу Home on the Ranch: Colorado - Julie Benson, C.C. Coburn - Страница 15

ELIZABETH WALKED DOWN the hallway to Chloe’s office and suppressed the urge to bang her head against the wall.

“Shoot me now and put me out of my misery. I’ve lost the will to live,” she said as she sank into the wooden chair in front of her friend’s desk. Now that the adrenaline and caffeine had worn off, exhaustion claimed her.

Chloe paled. “Do I need to update my résumé for the next round of layoffs?”

“No, but you might want to measure me for a straitjacket, because I’m going to lose my mind working with Devlin.”

“What happened?”

“I have two new problems. The first being Devlin wants to meet with Rory before he’ll sign the contract.”

“Why is that a problem? Rory’s perfect.”

“He’s a cowboy, and his mystical cowboy charm won’t work on Micah Devlin.”

“Rory will do fine.”

“I’m not so sure. When I first gave him the jeans for the shoot, he said no real man would be caught dead in them. Can you believe that?”

“Since you’re still talking about Rory in the present tense, I assume you didn’t kill him. But what did you do after he said that?”

She glared at her friend. “I’m not the Wicked Witch of the East, you know.”

“I didn’t say you were. It’s just you get a little overzealous sometimes, especially when people make mistakes in their job.”

“I very calmly and professionally pointed out the important points of being a company spokesperson.”

“I bet that went over like a lead balloon. Guys love having a woman tell them they screwed up.”

“I think he took it well, but after the jeans comment, you can see why I’m concerned about him talking with Devlin. All I need is for Rory to say something negative about the product.”

“He won’t, since you set him straight.”

“You’re just saying that because he’s good-looking. In an interview situation, he’ll have to think on his feet, and who knows what someone might ask him? What if he doesn’t stop to think before he answers, and blurts out the first thing that pops into his head?” Once Elizabeth started voicing her concerns, she couldn’t hold them back. “Sure, he’s photogenic, but I have no idea what kind of education Rory has, or whether he can hold an intelligent conversation. What if he can’t talk about anything but horses, mucking out a stall and fixing fences?”

“Whoa. Can we slow down this runaway train? Rory doesn’t need to be a Rhodes scholar to do well on the morning show circuit. He’s got a great personality and charisma. Those two things can’t be taught, and will go a long way in an interview. Plus you’ll prep him.”

When Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak, Chloe held up her hand. “If you’re worried about anything else, talk to Rory. Find out about his education and background. Ask him how he feels about doing interviews.”

“Men have such fragile egos. What if he hasn’t graduated high school, and my asking about his education embarrasses him? There has to be a reason he’s a cowboy and not a white-collar businessman. He might get mad enough to quit.”

“How much sleep have you gotten this week?”

“Not much.”

“You must be dead-tired, Elizabeth. This kind of situation never flusters you. In fact, you thrive on a challenge.”

“I’m beginning to understand why sleep deprivation is so effective in breaking down prisoners of war.” Elizabeth walked to the small refrigerator in the corner of Chloe’s office, pulled out a can of Red Bull, popped the top open and took a long drink. Within seconds the caffeine bolted through her system, reviving her brain cells. “You’re right. I can do this. I can use Rory’s male ego to my advantage. I’ll tell him I need his opinion on Devlin’s concerns and the rest of the campaign.”

“Guys like that. They’re fixers.”

“While we’re talking, I can identify any weaknesses he might have in a business meeting or an interview situation.”

“Good, problem number one under control. What’s the second problem?”

Elizabeth squeezed the Red Bull can. The sound of crumpling aluminum filled the room. “Devlin has decided the money I quoted Rory, the price we discussed at length beforehand, is too much to pay. He wants me to renegotiate the deal.”

Chloe leaned back in her chair and threw her hands in the air. “You’re going down in flames.”

“What happened to playing the encouraging best friend and colleague?”

“Sorry, I can’t lie that well. No way is Rory going to take your news well. Not that I blame him. If someone quoted me one amount for a job, and then wanted to lowball me, I’d throw a fit, too.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Elizabeth resisted the urge to pick at her nail polish. “Devlin wants me to have renegotiated Rory’s contract by tomorrow’s meeting.”

“Push the meeting back.”

“I tried. Devlin refused.”

“Sure 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.”

It figured he was a meat-and-potatoes guy. She took a drink of water and focused on her goal.

“Back to the interviews,” Elizabeth said, once the waiter departed. “When I met you in Colorado, you seemed fairly comfortable talking to people.”

“I hold my own.”

“On the guided tours you talk about your local community and its history. Are you comfortable talking about other things?”

His right eyebrow inched upward. “I’m aware of what’s going on in the world. We get cable and everything in Estes Park.”

She mentally cringed. How did she keep managing to say the wrong thing? She’d never been prone to that before. “I didn’t mean to imply you didn’t. I was wondering what topics you felt comfortable talking about in an interview.”

“I can talk about most anything. Being in the tourist industry has taught me to think on my feet. You wouldn’t believe some of the situations that come up.” Then he smiled. She almost reached into her purse for her sunglasses. “Or maybe you would, considering our first meeting.”

Her mouth went dry. His smile could make Mother Teresa sin. Elizabeth had to get that smile on film.

“The main thing to remember in interviews is to be upbeat and personable.”

“And to be positive about the client’s product. See, I can be taught.”

She laughed. The man possessed quite a sense of humor. “I forget that this is all new to you, and you’re not a professional model. I also proposed television commercials to Devlin as part of the campaign. He wants to meet you before we go further. He’s a bit of a control freak.”

“Takes one to know one.”

She bristled until she looked at him. Humor shone in his sparkling brown eyes. “I could say the same for you.”

“Sure could. That’s what made today’s photo session hard for me. Seemed like everyone was telling me what to do. I’m not used to that.”

She made a mental note to slow down and explain things to him on future shoots.

“FYI, the only one you need to listen to is me, unless the client’s present.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She liked this easygoing man a lot better than the pain-in-the-ass model from earlier in the day. Too bad she had to spoil things by bringing up salary issues.

“Devlin wants to meet you tomorrow at ten. Will that work for you?”

“I’m at your service.”

Rory’s slow drawl wrapped around her, sending a rush of heat through her system. If he used that voice in TV commercials, women would cause a stampede on their way to department stores to buy Devlin’s men’s jeans.

“I appreciate your flexibility,” she said as their waiter placed their entrées in front of them.

The redhead who’d been eyeing Rory since he arrived, now finished with her meal, sauntered toward their table on a roundabout way to the front door. All the while she eyed Rory like an air force pilot preparing for a precision strike. She slowed down beside their table and then “accidentally” dropped her purse right at Rory’s feet.

He reached down, picked up the woman’s crimson leather bag and held it out to her. When she accepted it, she none too subtly slipped a piece of paper into his hand, smiled and strutted away.

How could she hit on a guy when he was with another woman? Elizabeth was amazed at such tackiness. She stared at Rory and waited. What straight man under the age of eighty wouldn’t take this gorgeous woman up on what she so obviously offered?

He tossed the paper on his bread plate without even glancing at the note.

Wonders never ceased. Elizabeth scooped up a piece of salmon. Knowing her time was running out, she found the expertly cooked fish tasted like paper in her mouth. She needed to get to the money issue before they finished their entrées. “Is there anything you’re concerned about with our meeting tomorrow with Devlin?”

“Should I be?”

No, I’m the one who should be worried, since Devlin wanted me to renegotiate your salary.

She shook her head. “Devlin wants to meet you before he officially puts his stamp of approval on the campaign and signs the contracts, but we shouldn’t have any problems. You’re the right person for the job.”

She knew she should bring up the subject of money, but couldn’t. The topic change would bring their pleasant dinner to a quick and deadly end. “How long have you lived in Colorado?”

“All my life. I’m third-generation. All my family’s there.”

She couldn’t imagine living where her parents and grandparents lived. Probably because her parents never stayed very long in one place.

“How ’bout you?”

“I’ve lived in New York state all my life, but I’ve only lived here in the city since I graduated from college.”

She paused, hoping he would share his educational background with her. When he didn’t, she gathered it was probably because he lacked a college education.

When the waiter cleared away their dinner plates, Elizabeth knew she couldn’t avoid the salary issue any longer. She took a long drink of water and then forced the words past her tight throat before she chickened out. “There was one thing Devlin wanted me to discuss with you before tomorrow’s meeting.” She swallowed hard, struggling to choose the correct words. Hell, there weren’t words that would make this any easier. “Seeing as you have no name recognition and no experience—”

“You said that made me interesting.”

He remembered that, huh? Figured. He possessed the most inconvenient memory. “Name recognition and experience are vital in the modeling industry, and factor into what a company is willing to pay. Because you lack those two things Mr. Devlin feels thirty thousand for the campaign is a little high. He thinks twenty thousand is more reasonable.”

There. She’d gotten the words out. She waited for the hurricane to hit.

“We agreed to thirty thousand,” Rory said, his voice low and unexpectedly calm, like the air before the storm hit and tossed trees and buildings around.

“Yes, that’s what we discussed, but we haven’t signed a contract.”

She considered telling Rory to get an agent to watch out for his best interest, but her conscience balked at the idea. She and Rory worked for Devlin Designs. In this situation she represented her agency and her client, not the model.

Rory crossed his arms over his chest. His gaze drilled into her. “I can head right on back to Colorado. My job there’s waiting for me. It’s no skin off my nose.”