The dog reacted by releasing a stinker.
Darcy waited to respond until Stogey was safely under her desk.
WHO PUT YOU ON JASON WATCH?
Each of her girlfriends sent back laughing emojis.
But the damage was done. Darcy had trouble getting images of Jason out of her head.
* * *
“This is a bad idea.” Jason paused outside the Burger Shack Tuesday afternoon. “I should be at the courthouse in case Darcy needs me.”
The burgundy truck the Bodine twins drove around town was parked nearby, a clear indication that at least one of Tom’s kids was at work.
“Dude.” Iggy rested his hands on Jason’s shoulders. “Darcy is fine. In fact, she’ll be better if our case never comes before her. We’re going to go in there and we’re going to be social with Tom’s two boys. Maybe we’ll learn one of Tom’s weaknesses. Maybe we’ll spot an opening that will appeal to a single lady. To those smart-alecky teenagers, we’re just two clueless cowboys. They’ll never know we’re shaking them down for information on their daddy.”
Jason shook his head. “This cowboy isn’t cut out for subterfuge.” Or technology. Or giving love advice. He’d stopped Kevin Hadley on the street this morning. The mayor had laughed when Jason suggested he’d had a hand in Kevin winning Mary Margaret’s heart.
Given his track record with love, Jason should head on over to the courthouse with a bouquet of flowers, a box of chocolates, and a pair of knee pads upon which to grovel.
Still, the smell of grilled burgers was enough to allow Iggy to drag Jason inside the sparsely filled local institution. Mostly because he’d skipped lunch.
“Let me do the talking.” Iggy walked up to the front counter, where one of Tom’s identical twin boys was working.
“Welcome to the Burger Shack, Mr. King.” The teenager, possibly Phil, gave Iggy a bored stare. “You look like you could use a late-lunch-slash-early-dinner double with mushrooms and pepper jack cheese.”
“And sweet potato fries,” his twin, possibly Steve, called from the back, grinning as he hefted a cage of fries from the fryer.
“Perfect.” Iggy reached for his wallet. “Plus a cola. And I’ll pay for whatever Jason’s having. You boys do realize you’re in the presence of royalty. I’m a King, and Jason is a world champion.” Iggy tried to laugh but it sounded like a donkey bray. He wasn’t so good at this spy business either.
“Some advice?” The Bodine in the back came up behind his brother, peering over his shoulder so that it almost looked like the counter twin had two heads. “Save the comedy for comedians.”
“Ouch.” Iggy waited to say more until Jason placed his order for a plain burger, sweet potato fries, and a Coke. “Do you watch a lot of comedy on TV? Is that how you’re such a good judge of humor?”
The Bodine working the register rolled his eyes as he gave Iggy his change. “Dad doesn’t allow us to watch more than an hour of TV a day. That hasn’t changed since we were, like, five.”
Jason sensed Iggy was outmatched. He eased his hip against the counter, pretending indifference to the conversation. But he wondered…when had Iggy’s antics lost their charm?
“Wow. Does your dad make you watch news?” Iggy tucked his wallet into his back pocket. “Perhaps while he’s surfing an online dating app?”
“Dad doesn’t date. And after dinner we always watch old home movies of our mom.” The Bodine who might have been Steve salted those fries. “Dad cries. We cry. And then we all sing sad Christmas carols.”
Jason sighed. Not because it tugged his heartstrings but because it was malarkey.
“Really?” Iggy looked like he bought into the narrative. How could the man be such a good Casanova and such a poor judge of character?
“No. Not really,” said the Bodine cashier. “Dad told us he’s suing you. We’re not stupid. Whatever you’re trying…” He made a dive-bomber sound, shooting his hand from his shoulder to slap the counter. “Crash and burn.”
Jason shook his head. “I told him this was a bad idea.”
“Yeah.” The other Bodine twin placed their cardboard cartons of fries on a red plastic tray. “Maybe next time you should come in one at a time. It’d look less suspicious. But thanks for playing.”
“No hard feelings,” the cashier said. “You can wait for your burgers at the pickup window.”
When they had their food in a corner of the small dining room, Jason shook his finger at Iggy. “I told you so.”
“Okay. We were bested by kids.” But it hadn’t hindered Iggy’s appetite. He took a big bite of his double cheeseburger and took his time chewing. “I’ll admit that was embarrassing. Do you think they’re going to tell Tom we came in?”
“Wouldn’t you?” Movement by the door caught Jason’s eye. “Uh-oh.”
“What?” Back to the door, Iggy froze, burger halfway to his mouth. “Did Tom just walk in?”
“Worse. The Widows Club board is here.”
“Jason Petrie.” Clarice hobbled up to him, wielding her walking stick authoritatively. “Didn’t you say on Saturday that you’d be in your mother’s yarn shop this afternoon? This is the second time you’ve stood me up.”
“I didn’t actually agree to—”
“My bad.” Iggy slapped a hand on his forehead. “I completely forgot to tell Jason we’d set a date.”
“I showed up late.” Edith took the seat next to Iggy and swiped a fry, her short auburn hair almost as red as the ketchup. “Didn’t matter. There was no cowboy in the back room giving advice on love. And Clarice was ready to record too.”
Unabashedly eavesdropping, the Bodine twins burst out laughing.
Bitsy stood back, fidgeting with the strap of her black tweed purse. She glanced over her shoulder toward Rupert’s law offices. Was her mother there discussing her lawsuit against Darcy?
“You’re missing someone.” Iggy pushed his tray of fries toward Edith. “Where’s Mims?”
“The trout were biting.” Edith sniffed. “We couldn’t get her away from the river.”
“Not even for romance advice videos.” Clarice checked her cell phone. “Are you going to be done soon? If we’re going to do this, we need to get started. Your mother said she had dinner plans in Greeley.”
Jason pushed his burger away, having lost his appetite. “I hate to disappoint you, but I just don’t think I’m qualified to give love advice.”
“I beg to differ. Which one of us has a trail of pictures with women from every rodeo stop on the circuit?” Iggy tapped on his cell phone, pulling up Jason’s website, the one Ken had paid to have created and kept updated. “And I’m talking photographic evidence.” He angled his phone so Jason could see the screen. “Here’s you with lipstick on your cheek. Here’s another with your arms around two babes. And here’s lip-smacking evidence that saliva has been exchanged.”
The picture that had cost him Darcy. Just looking at it brought up the pain on Darcy’s face when they’d talked at her pond, and shamed him.
Although now that Jason was looking at the montage of his rodeo career, he had to wonder why there weren’t more pictures of him riding bulls. Was this his rodeo legacy? What a sickening thought. Still, he had to defend himself. At least to Iggy. “Every one of those women is wearing a banner or a hat advertising one of my sponsors.” Jason’s scowl deepened. “I’m paid to project an image.” One that had filled his bank account. He could retire a wealthy man today, if he wanted.
“Like kissing’s in your contract.” Iggy blanked the screen on his phone, withdrawing his evidence. “I need a contract like that.”
“Wowzer.” Edith talked around a mouthful of sweet potato fries. “I thought bull riding was only about riding bulls.”
“Me too.” Bitsy no longer had a stranglehold on her purse strap.
“Finish up.” Clarice pounded her walking stick the way Darcy pounded her gavel. “You’re both coming with us.”
“Where?” Jason muttered, preferring to head o
ver to the courthouse to check on Darcy.
“To your mother’s back room at the yarn shop.” Clarice turned just as the door to the Burger Shack opened again.
“I thought I saw you through the window.” A familiar, lean man in a rumpled pair of khakis and a white polo spotted Jason and stomped over. “It’s worse than I thought. Much, much worse.” Ken Tadashi stood over Jason, scowling. “You’re carb loading.”
“Ken always worries about my girlish figure.” Jason recovered his shock and introduced his agent to the assembled. He extended his aching leg, trying to ease the tension without alerting Ken. “What did you do with Mark? Leave him at a bus stop outside the hospital in Arizona?”
“He insisted I drop him at home with his mother in Utah.” Ken set his cell phone and rental car keys on a nearby table. “I’m tired. Worn down to my last nerve. That boy wants to quit, and the only hunger I see in your eyes is for greasy food, not another world champion belt buckle.”
Before Jason could argue, the widows came to his defense.
“Jason, your agent seems a bit militant.” Edith paused in eating fries to give Ken a disdainful look.
“Like he doesn’t know exactly who works for who,” Bitsy added, earning a nod from Iggy.
Clarice pounded her walking stick again. “Jason, don’t say you need his approval to do the video today.”
“Tell me I got here in time.” Ken confiscated Jason’s half-eaten burger and sat at the next table over. “You haven’t filmed a sex tape, have you? Or developed a fetish for much older women?”
Clarice mumbled something about nothing being wrong with that.
Bitsy mumbled something about a twitch, glancing toward Rupert’s office.
“You young men don’t know what you’re missing.” Edith swiped Iggy’s soda.
Iggy held up his hands in silent surrender of both beverage and conversation.
“No offense, ma’ams,” Ken said belatedly.
“Some taken,” Edith said in between soda slurps. “I’ll have you know that we’re all catches.”
Ken wisely made a noncommittal sound and took a bite of Jason’s burger.
“I’ll have you know that Jason is going to do a vlog I’m producing.” Clarice drew herself up as grandly as royalty, a disconnect with those two long, gray braids and hickory walking stick. “He’s going to give relationship advice.”
Ken choked, eyes widening.
“See?” Iggy nudged Jason. “He’s overwhelmed by the brilliant idea of you as a love guru.”
More like in shock.
Ken gave an awkward little laugh, setting the stolen burger aside. “Reality check. My client knows nothing about love.” He laughed again. “But he can thank his lucky stars that no bull has ever ruined that pretty face of his. Jason still has sponsorship offers, despite not riding a bull in forever.”
“I have offers?” Boy, did Jason need some good news right about now.
“Indeed.” Ken tapped his cell phone. “You’ve received an invitation to be a spokesperson for a dandruff shampoo.”
“Next.” Jason waved his hand. “I don’t have flakes.”
“No one has to know that,” Ken said swiftly. “We’ve also been approached about promoting a hemorrhoid cream.”
Jason closed his eyes. “You’re killing me.” He’d never had those either.
“You’re surprised it’s devolved to this?” Ken gave another ruthless chuckle. “This is what has-been rodeo stars receive.”
Anger pooled in Jason’s belly, nearly as intense as the nerve pinging in his leg. “I’m not a has-been. I’m on a sabbatical.”
Clarice tapped Jason’s shoulder. “Can we go make our video now? Or do you want to listen to your agent talk about personal hygiene products some more?”
Jason stood. At this point, the relationship video gig had more appeal than hemorrhoid cream commercials.
Ken got to his feet too and moved those loafers in Jason’s way. “Why do I know nothing about this video?” He shook his head. “I need to be consulted so that I can protect you and your image.”
“My playboy image?” Jason countered. “Or my rodeo image?”
“Both!” Ken’s voice shook with annoyance. He ran a hand through his crisply cut jet-black hair. “I’m supposed to guide your career to maximize profit. You can’t agree to projects without consulting me.” Ken was militant. And on a power trip.
Anger thrummed in Jason’s veins. “Can’t or shouldn’t? You’re my agent, not my boss.”
Clarice, Iggy, and Bitsy applauded. Edith was busy eating.
A primitive noise arose from Ken’s throat. “As your agent, I have every right to demand to know who these people are and what they want from you.” He looked Clarice up and down. “You’re making a video. What kind of video? How will it be distributed? And what is my client’s cut?”
“Young man.” Clarice inserted herself between Jason and Ken. She had a slight height advantage and stared down at Ken as if they were boxers about to fight. “Do not imply we’re taking advantage of Jason. We’re talking legitimate relationship advice. Not bedroom banter. And it will be distributed for free on social media.”
“Free?” Ken said mournfully. “It’s worse than I thought.”
“Not that Jason—or Iggy—know a thing about women.” Edith inserted herself between Clarice and Ken. At a serious height disadvantage, she reached up and poked Ken in the chest with her finger. “But I think they have great entertainment value as a pair.”
“No one will take them seriously,” Bitsy added without bodying up to Ken. “Despite their number of conquests, neither one of them has ever been in a serious relationship.”
“Hey,” Jason said with bite. “That’s not true. I was with Darcy for nearly two decades.” He barely stopped himself from admitting they were married. “Don’t say a word about Darcy,” he cautioned Ken, hoping he’d get the hint that their marriage was still secret.
Meanwhile the Widows Club tittered, and the Bodine twins chortled. As reality checks went, this one stung.
“That woman was a saint to put up with you for so long,” Clarice said, not unkindly.
“You should work on your grovel technique,” Edith said. “Both of you.”
Jason nodded. Today, of all days, he couldn’t agree more.
“Ladies, let’s ease up on the criticism.” Iggy tried to salvage a lost cause. “I’m happy to be a confirmed bachelor. Proud of it, in fact. I can get company whenever I want it.”
The old ladies’ laughter deepened. The Bodine boys slapped their palms on the counter as if it were a drum set. Even Ken looked at Iggy dubiously.
“Ignacio, you’ve exhausted the dating pool in Sunshine,” Clarice pointed out. “You either need to settle down or move on to Greeley. This experience will be good for you.”
“Soul-searching.” Bitsy nodded.
“Life changing.” Edith had somehow worked her way back to eating the fries.
Ken frowned at all of them. Jason waited for him to crush the whole idea or spill the beans about Jason and Darcy being married.
But Ken surprised him. “Okay, ladies. I’ll approve this experiment, but only for a limited run. And I want you to consider one thing.” Ken fixed Jason with a hard stare. “Bringing in your exes for an episode. There’s nothing like confronting your past to open your eyes to the present.”
Jason was overruled by a chorus of feminine agreement, Iggy’s crowing, and Bodine laughter.
“Tell me I get to watch,” Iggy crowed.
“Don’t you get it?” Jason tipped his cowboy hat back. “They want both of us. And our exes.” In fact, they were implying neither man would find true love without this experience.
Iggy paled. “Hey. No. I was just defending my honor. I don’t want to be filmed.”
But the widows were all over the idea. In a matter of minutes, they decided that Edith would sit in a third chair as the interviewer for this first attempt and that other women would be brought in late
r.
“Are you sure about this?” Jason asked Ken. “Say the word and I’ll back out.”
His agent had no sympathy. “You want to stay in this small town instead of riding the circuit, you need buzz. You can give this little idea a whirl or I can close on one of those sponsorship offers.”
“Dandruff shampoo and hemorrhoid cream? No.” Jason rubbed his thigh, stopping when Ken noticed.
“I’ll tell them we’re considering the offers anyway, just in case this video thing crashes and burns.” Ken finished off Jason’s burger. “What’s going on with your leg?”
“His leg is fine.” Iggy slapped Jason on the back. “It’s his heart that’s in need of repair.”
“Whatever you say, Ignacio.” But Ken’s brows were raised speculatively as he stared at Jason.
Chapter Twelve
Your Honor, may I approach the bench?” Rupert asked.
“Must you?” Darcy mumbled, while in her head George practically growled with annoyance.
It had been a long day in court with a stream of cases and intermittent Jason sightings via text—the latest from Lola, who’d seen him coming out of the Burger Shack with a well-dressed, dark, handsome stranger, to which Avery had responded with the google-eyes emoji.
Tina Marie was trying to catch up on their workload, shoving as many sentencing cases as possible through the system, presumably before someone realized Judge Darcy Harper wasn’t qualified for the position. On the other hand, every defense attorney in the county, public and private, had tried to exploit Darcy’s inexperience or undercut her confidence today.
It was approaching four o’clock, and Darcy’s patience was at its end.
“Your Honor, may I approach the bench?” Rupert asked again.
The last thing Darcy wanted to do was allow Rupert, the object of Bitsy’s twitchy affection, more time to complain about her sentencing in front of an audience. She was afraid her court face had fallen an hour or so earlier. And unlike yesterday, she had no supportive crowd in the courtroom.
It was sad to admit, but she’d expected Jason to enter every time the public door in the gallery opened. All those text sightings of him about town made it that much harder to keep her focus on court.
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