Front Range Cowboys (5 Book Box Set)

by Evie Nichole

  “And this is what we need to continue a discussion about how to improve your family and company image?” Daphne tried to control her voice but found it nearly impossible not to freak out. “You bring a drunk into my office and expect me to fix something?”

  “Oh, hey.” The drunk Hernandez brother looked up at her from underneath his hat. He finally managed to stand straight up. When he arched his back, the popping sound was almost painful to experience secondhand. Then he gave her a lazy smile she would have remembered anywhere. “I remember you.”

  “You remember her?” Laredo raised his eyebrows at his brother. “From where?”

  “This is the woman!”

  “The woman?” Laredo’s brow knit together and then cleared abruptly. He gestured to Daphne. “Wait. The woman? From the bar? Daphne is your pretty one?”

  “Excuse me, gentlemen,” Daphne said drily. “I do not appreciate being talked about as though I’m not here.”

  “Sorry.” Laredo waved his hand dismissively at her. “We’re not trying to be rude. I just have difficulty imagining you in the role of this particular woman that Met is referring to.”

  “It was you at the bar!” “Drunk Cowboy” was gesturing emphatically to Daphne. What had Laredo called him? Met? What kind of a name was Met? “You stepped out of the way, and I got punched in the face. Remember?”

  Oh God. How could she forget? She’d been trying to forget for twenty-four hours or more, but it seemed to be impossible. Even while three sheets to the wind, this cowboy had been one of the most attractive men she’d come across in a long time. Like underwear ad attractive. And now she had “drunk cowboy” in her office and she was supposedly going to make him respectable. Or something.

  “None of this is productive,” Laredo said, waving his coffee in the air before taking a drink. “Let’s talk about fixing the whole Hernandez family image problem. Shall we?”

  “You’re joking, right?” Daphne could only hope this was a joke. There was the remotest possibility that someone was going to pop into her office and tell her that they’d played a horrendous prank on her and that she was not really tasked with making this family seem respectable.

  “Nope.” Laredo was beaming. It looked strange. She’d never actually seen him smile before. The guy had approached her boss about four years back with a request to change their company image from traditional ranch to that of an up-and-coming real estate and livestock producing firm. Laredo was a hard-nosed man who never smiled. What was happening? He looked almost congenial. “I’m not joking. I’m dead serious. And now that we’ve gotten that out of the way. Can we just get on with it?”

  Daphne did not like this feeling. She hated being off-balance. She wanted to be in control at all times. She wanted to know what was going on and how best to handle any given situation. This did not feel like one of those times. She was stranded in the ocean without a life vest or any hope of rescue. At this point, there wasn’t even a sinking ship to climb onto!

  “I’m sorry.” Daphne spread her hands before her. “I understand that there are negative rumors floating around town about your family and your business practices. We’ve been keeping abreast of those rumors because it is our job as your public relations firm. I will say that none of these lies—at least I hope they are lies—have actually hurt your stats for the quarter. Your real estate offices are seeing a big boom, which is typical of the housing and land markets at this time. None of your agents have reported any kind of backlash or customer comments regarding these rumors, and we have surveyed them all in the last week or two via e-mail for just this purpose.”

  “Thank you.” Laredo gave her a nod. “I very much appreciate your keeping up with things. But we need to focus on the livestock contract at the moment.”

  Daphne didn’t know a damn thing about livestock. She didn’t know anything about buying it, selling it, or even what went into the practice of—well, she just didn’t know anything about it! What was he suggesting? “Mr. Hernandez, I would not be able to tell you the first thing about proving your stock is the best—er—stock for the job.”

  The snicker from “drunk cowboy” did not make her feel any happier about the direction this meeting was going. The ass was smirking at her as though he were having trouble not bursting into laughter right there in her office. Not just laughing. More like wrapping his arms around his belly until he gasped for lack of air while he cackled at her.

  Of course, this was not actually true. It was more a figment of her insecurities. Daphne knew her own baggage too well to be taken in by something that was happening in her head and simply being exacerbated by a situation she did not like or feel comfortable in.

  Laredo was nodding though. It seemed as if he understood her dilemma at least. Good. Maybe he would leave. No. No. He was now pointing to his brother. “This is why I want you working with Met.”

  “I’m sorry.” Daphne looked at “Met.” “What kind of a name is that? Did your parents just run out of names?”

  “Demetrio,” the man supplied. “And no. They didn’t run out of names. It was my great-grandfather’s name.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” She actually felt kind of bad for poking at him. That had been more for her own pride than anything else. Ugh! It was like this guy brought out the worst in her or something.

  “Not a big deal.” Met flashed a smile at Daphne that nearly stopped her heart. Those eyes were so very intense that she could not look away.

  Laredo cleared his throat. Daphne jumped and ripped her gaze away. She studied the folder on her desktop and wondered how she could make these men go away. That wasn’t good. She did not typically turn down requests from established customers, especially not when her boss had specifically asked her for something.

  “Ms. Evans,” Laredo said graciously. “I realize that you are not well versed in livestock. Met is. He is also a former rodeo rider. This contract revolves around rodeo stock. We need some interviews with good magazines. Not just the typical stockmen’s magazines. We need some newspapers across the state. Some human interest stories. Something. We need people to start looking favorably on our family. You know? That’s what will put some of these rumors to rest.”

  “That isn’t going to fix it,” Daphne blurted out. “Captain Paul Weatherby of the Denver Police Department has been speaking very badly about you all.”

  “We’re aware.” Laredo’s tone was grim. “Believe me, this is not the only angle we’re working. Is that clear? We’re doing our level best to combat that line of bullshit from an entirely different quarter.”

  “Right.” Daphne had a feeling that she didn’t want to know the particulars of that operation. These people were so unorthodox it made her head spin. “So, all you need from our firm is some media exposure?”

  “Yes.” Laredo seemed very certain.

  Daphne felt her anxiety level begin to decrease drastically. This was doable. She could manage this kind of damage control without too much trouble. A couple of phone calls and it would all be over. She would never have to look into this man’s cerulean blue eyes again.

  Cerulean? What the hell was wrong with her? She was waxing poetic about the eye color of a man who had pestered her all night at her favorite bar because he wanted attention and she wouldn’t give it.

  “He has to be sober,” Daphne said quickly.

  “What?” Both Met and Laredo looked alarmed. That was not a good sign.

  Daphne put her hands on her hips. “The reputation of our firm is at stake here too, gentlemen. I am not calling favors and getting you human interest pieces written in the top magazines and publications in Colorado and Southern Wyoming if I’m going to be showing up with a drunk, slobbering, spitting, stinking cowboy in tow.”

  Both brothers drew back, but it was Met who finally spoke to Laredo. “Man, that is a lot of hostility. Right?”

  “No doubt,” Laredo agreed. “I think you need to agree to no slobbering, spitting, or stinking.”

  “No drinking!” Daphne pu
t as much emphasis on that one word as possible. “Why on earth do you need to drink twenty-four seven anyway? I get going out and carousing with your friends or getting drunk so you can attempt to get laid. I might not approve of that behavior, but I get it. The drinking all day long thing does not make sense to me. Who wants to be fuzzy headed all day?”

  Met’s face was utterly expressionless. He drew his lower lip between his teeth, and she watched in complete fascination as he bit down. His lips were so pliable. What would they feel like if she lifted her fingers to his mouth and gently slid them over that firm surface?

  Dammit! She was getting totally distracted again. This was not good. Then Met nodded his head slowly. “If it means that much to you, I’ll be sober.”

  “It means that much,” Daphne said quietly.

  Laredo grunted. “Then it’s settled. You’ll be in touch when you have some things lined up?”

  “I have to do some research first, but then, yes, I will be in touch.” Daphne wished she could have wormed out of this. Maybe she could delegate it. She was a busy woman after all. She could find someone else to shuttle this grumpy cowboy around to his interview appointments.

  The two brothers turned to leave her office. Laredo nodded his head. “Thank you for meeting with us on such short notice, Ms. Evans. It’s very much appreciated.”

  That was when Daphne realized that nobody had ever answered her question about why a man would want to be fuzzy headed all day. “Mr. Hernandez! I’m sorry, but neither of you mentioned a reason why you would want to be fuzzy headed all day long.”

  “Pain.”

  The word came from Met. It was a simply stated and very casual answer. Somehow, the implications behind it were anything but. The cowboy tipped his hat and left her office. Daphne stood there a long time watching them walk down the hallway until the elevator at the end of the hallway swallowed them up and they were gone.

  Chapter Five

  “Are you still in here?” Phyllis put her hands on her hips as she stood before Daphne’s desk and glowered at her. “Girl, it is five o’clock. You have been in here all day long. You haven’t made a phone call. You haven’t taken a phone call. You haven’t returned any phone calls. Mr. Abernathy stopped by twice to ask how your meeting this morning went. What is going on with you?”

  “Did you know that the average bucking horse or bull only works an average of three minutes a year?” Daphne asked Phyllis. “Can you imagine that? Working three minutes a year and getting three square meals a day plus medical care and vacation time.”

  Phyllis raised her eyebrows. “Sweetie, what is going on with you?”

  “I was trying to beef up a little bit on the rodeo stuff since I have to do this media blitz for the Hernandez Land & Cattle Company account.”

  “Okay.” Phyllis pressed her lips into a tight line. “And now you’ve become an expert on horses and cows?”

  “Bulls and broncs,” Daphne corrected distractedly. “Cows don’t buck.”

  “Cows don’t…” Phyllis shook her head. “I was just coming in to tell you that Ruth and I are locking up and leaving for the day.”

  “Of course.” Daphne smiled at Phyllis. “Aren’t Monday nights ballet night for your granddaughters?”

  Phyllis beamed. The older woman had one son who had produced two elfin daughters that were so girly it was a true blessing to the poor woman’s heart. “They’re starting to practice for the summer recital! I’ve just been so proud of my girls these last few classes, you know. They’re working so hard and really improving.”

  “I remember being absolutely horrible at dance class,” Daphne said mournfully. “I would have given my right pinkie toe to be good at dancing. My mother would have been so happy.”

  That was actually a terrible memory. Daphne’s mother had wanted badly for her daughter to be a very girly girl in pink tights and a tutu. Daphne hadn’t been at all talented or coordinated enough to handle that sort of thing. She had played soccer, softball, and volleyball, even getting a soccer scholarship that had paid for a good chunk of her college tuition. Unfortunately, that had not been Daphne’s mother’s dream. Her father had been more supportive, but he had passed away when she was a freshman in college. Now Daphne and her mother barely spoke.

  “Your mother should have been happy enough with a beautiful daughter who got a scholarship and eventually found a good paying job,” Phyllis growled. “I don’t know what comes over some women when they cannot just be happy with the healthy children God gave them.”

  Daphne chuckled to herself. Phyllis had met Daphne’s mother more than once when the woman had called on Daphne at work to go to lunch. Saying that Phyllis was not a fan was putting it mildly.

  “According to my mother,” Daphne teased, “if you want to look healthy, you must do so in a pink frilly dress.”

  “Good heavens!” Phyllis rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. “Saints preserve us if I ever walk into your office and see such a sight!”

  Daphne was still chuckling to herself about that when Phyllis left. She could not stop thinking about the Hernandez brothers and their bucking horses and bulls and all of that rich history. Yet the one thing that continued to stick out in her mind was the way Met had said the word “pain.”

  She searched for Demetrio Hernandez, rodeo rider, on her computer and came up with nearly twenty thousand hits. They ranged from statistics from the Pro Rodeo Association to newspaper clips about rides that had taken place many years ago. Then she started seeing injury reports. One after another article detailed broken shoulders, broken hips, cracked and broken ribs, a broken leg, and countless concussions. The man was twenty-two years old and had been following the rodeo circuit since he was seventeen. Before that, he had participated as a young teenager in both junior and high school rodeo associations. The guy had the body of a sixty-year-old. The word pain probably did not begin to cover what he was feeling.

  “You’re still here.”

  Daphne froze. Normally the Abernathy Firm was a large enough organization that it was possible to avoid certain employees who worked in places other than her own department. Justin Sorenson was a fantastic example of that. Justin was a CPA down in accounting. He had no reason to be up on her floor. He had no reason to speak to her, to look at her, or to even think about her.

  “I’m sorry, Justin, did the accounting department need something?” Daphne kept her tone cool.

  This was the only way to deal with a man like Justin. The narcissistic little prick had stalked her for months after their breakup. But that was three years ago now. She had been much younger and far more foolish. Since then, her policy had been strictly no contact, and it was working very nicely.

  “Actually, I came upstairs because I saw that you were working on the Hernandez account.” Justin folded his arms over his chest and leaned against her doorframe.

  He was a good-looking man. That had been the first thing she’d noticed all those years ago. His looks and the way he had absolutely doted on her in the beginning. Of course, that was all a cover-up for his real agenda, which involved sucking her self-esteem dry to not only bolster his career but to make himself feel better about his own shortcomings as well.

  “I’m not sure why that would matter to the accounting department.” Daphne kept her eyes glued to her computer screen. She refused to make eye contact. There was no point. If she did, Justin would just claim that she had been coming on to him. It had happened before during the first year post breakup. “If you have a problem with the Hernandez account, you need to take it up with Mr. Abernathy. This was his personal request that I handle the account.”

  “Is that right?” Justin asked silkily. “That must make you feel good.”

  He was trying to suck her in. She knew it. Fortunately, she also knew how to divert his attention. “Actually, it doesn’t make me feel good at all. It’s a tough account, and it will take a lot of hours.”

  “Would you like me to put a good word in for you with Mr. Abernathy
?” Justin’s voice oozed that solicitous nonsense she had quickly grown tired of. “I could, you know. The two of us are quite close.”

  “I had no idea Mr. Abernathy hung out down in accounting,” Daphne mused. Then she stood up. “Well, it’s after five and time for me to go home.”

  “Let me walk you.”

  “No, thank you. I’m fine.” Daphne stepped out of her office with Justin scooting along right ahead of her. What was his problem? Why now? What was it about this case that was poking at him enough to leave a narcissistic wound he felt like he had to assuage?

  Daphne snagged her wallet and keys from the small shelf just inside her door before closing and locking it. Then she moved off down the long hallway with Justin pacing at her side. The reek of his cologne was so strong that she felt like it was coating her throat and making it almost impossible to breathe.

  He pushed the button for the elevator. She considered the stairs. No doubt that would just make Justin decide to take the stairs too. His thinning dirty-blond hair was slicked back from his face with a good amount of product. She could have sworn he was wearing more moisturizer and probably even foundation than she was.

  The elevator dinged. It was down on the first floor. They were on the eighth. It was going to take forever, and Daphne would not have put it past Justin to hit every button in the elevator before stepping out just to prevent her from making a quick exit.

  “I was thinking,” Justin said in a voice filled with a false sense of sudden impulse. “We should grab some dinner tonight. There’s a new movie playing. I know how you love the movies.”

  That was the thing with Justin. He actually didn’t know her at all. He had this ironclad conception of who he thought she should be. It did not at all jive with who she was. It was just his projection of the perfect girlfriend that he had tried to mold her into.

  “No thanks,” Daphne said firmly. “I have plans.”

  “What plans?”

  She turned to stare at him. He was being very aggressive. Why? “I’m not entirely sure that’s any of your business.”