She looked away. She didn’t know this Nathan guy, but she was already sick of hearing his name. “Something like that,” she mumbled.
“You know he’s on vacation, right?” Andrew asked. “That’s what Nathan does when he gets hurt. He runs away. He never even looked for you all those years you spent recovering and getting your degrees. Why do you think he’d look for you now?”
The bombs Andrew kept dropping about his and Layla’s back story were excruciating. Seriously, the most excruciating thing she had ever endured, including her thirty days of mandatory house arrest. She vowed to look the whole story up as soon as she got reassigned to another place to lay low.
But now she just answered. “I really don’t want to talk about Nathan anymore.” Totally true.
He gave her a thin smile. “Of course you don’t. C’mon anyway. I’ll buy you whatever you need.”
Wondering if she’d ever be able to go more than five minutes without feeling completely humiliated by this man, she said through gritted teeth, “I’ll pay you back as soon as I can. And when we get back from town, I’ll figure out some other living arrangement and get out of your hair. I promise.”
He stared at her for a long, hard time, but didn’t say anything. In the end, he turned and walked out the door, apparently trusting her to follow, which she did as soon as she got her stilettos back on.
Pride be damned. She was willing to do anything to get out of wearing these heels everywhere she went. Even spend more time with a man who really seemed to out-and-out hate her.
CHAPTER 10
Roxxy thought she’d do anything to get out of her stilettos, but that was before she was informed she’d have to squeeze in next to Andrew in his old candy-red pickup truck, since the generator was already sitting in the window seat. Apparently it had broken down while the ranch hands had been mending fences, so now the back of the truck was filled with new posts and barbwire, making it so the generator had to sit up front with them.
“How far is it to Buellton?” she asked him when he got in next to her, the side of his body flush with hers.
“About an hour,” he answered.
Roxxy clasped her hands tight in her lap, hoping that would be enough to mask the shiver that went through her entire body, right before she bit back against a rising panic attack.
She eventually managed to breathe her way back to normal and calm herself down, but then without warning. Andrew’s hand brushed her knee. She jumped in her seat, letting out a yelp of scared surprise.
Andrew raised his hand up. “Sorry, I was just trying to turn on the radio. It’s quiet in here.”
“Oh,” she said, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. “Let me.”
She pushed the on/off button on the old-fashioned radio and a country song poured out.
“You can change it if you want,” he said.
“No,” she answered, going back to her tightly-folded hands position. “I like country music.”
“Really,” he said. “Because I remember you not caring for it much when we were in college.”
“Maybe it’s an acquired taste,” she answered carefully. “I started liking it later on.”
“Seriously?” he said.
“Yes, seriously,” she answered. “Are people not allowed to change their music tastes?”
Andrew threw her a skeptical look. “If you like country music so much, who’s this singing?” he asked.
“Colin Fairgood,” she answered. “Best songwriter in the country business, and he’s one of my favorite singers right now, period.”
Andrew nodded. “Mine, too. I like all his stuff, even that one duet he did with whatshername was okay. You know, that one singer who wears all the crazy outfits and make up?”
“Roxxy RoxX?” she supplied, trying to keep her voice as level as possible.
“Yeah, that one,” he said. “She has a pretty good voice. Too bad she went right back to the bubblegum. I liked when she was actually singing about things that mattered.”
“Well, you can’t make a career singing songs about the disenfranchised. She took a big chance, even recording that song with Colin. And I bet she’s still sort of surprised it did so well on the charts.”
“I wonder why he decided to do a duet with her of all people?” Andrew said.
“I don’t know,” Roxxy answered, because she’d wondered the same thing after she got the call from his people. “He’s kind of a strange guy. I think I read in an interview or something that he just ‘knew’ she’d be right for the song.”
“Hmm,” Andrew said. Then thankfully dropped the subject.
He didn’t say anything else until they got to the repair shop where Jeb was waiting for them outside to take the generator in to the mechanic.
“We’ll leave the truck here with Jeb and walk on down to the general store. It’s not far.”
Roxxy nodded her agreement. And to her surprise, when she looked down at her hands, she found them relaxed and unfolded on her lap.
AFTER DROPPING THE GENERATOR OFF with Jeb, Andrew walked Roxxy over to the general store. But the camaraderie they’d achieved on the ride over must have faded in the wind, because he all but snapped at her, “You’ve got thirty minutes to pick out something decent to wear—jeans, t-shirts, and at least one long-sleeved shirt, if you’re wondering what appropriate ranch wear is. Shorts are okay, too, but the kind that come down to your knees, no short-shorts or mini skirts. Now what size shoe do you wear?”
She told him. Her dad had died when she was very young, but she had a feeling this was what girls felt like when being given instructions by someone who obviously didn’t approve of their current wardrobe choices.
“I’ll go get you some real shoes and meet you outside the dressing room. Thirty minutes,” he said again, before walking away.
His tone had been so high-handed, it was all she could do not to walk out of the store then and there, and call the D.A. again. She grumbled under her breath as she grabbed a handful of v-neck t-shirts, jeans, and cotton underwear in several sizes from the store’s small selection of women’s clothing.
She wished she could tell him there were literally over a million people who would be thrilled to have her as a guest in their homes. In almost every country on Earth. She never dropped the, “Do you know who I am?” bomb, but she was sorely tempted to at the moment, especially knowing she wouldn’t be living off his hospitality much longer.
However, just a few minutes later, she had completely changed her mind. Whatever humiliation she had suffered, whatever kicks to her pride she had endured at the hands of this man—it no longer mattered. Because blue jeans, she discovered, were nothing short of a revelation. They were so comfortable, allowing her to bend and walk however she pleased without the constant fear of exposing herself. And cotton bras? Why hadn’t anyone ever told her about cotton bras?!?! For over fifteen years, her breasts had been pushed up and pushed in by silk and underwire contraptions that felt more like torture devices than underwear. But this magical cotton bra somehow gave her support and freedom at the same time.
She all but floated out of the dressing room, feeling like a brand new woman—or at least one who was completely comfortable for the first time in her adult life.
“This outfit is amazing,” she declared to Andrew, spinning around with her arms spread out. “These jeans! I have never worn something more comfortable on my body. Never ever.”
He raised an eyebrow. “More comfortable than scrubs?”
Oh yeah, she had forgotten Layla was supposed to be a physical therapist. “I have never worn something that looks this good and is this comfortable in my life. What brand are these? They’re like magic!”
“They’re just Levi’s.”
“Then Levi’s are magic,” she insisted.
To her surprise, he actually cracked a smile. “If I had known how happy a simple pair of Levi’s would make you, I might have bought you some sooner.”
She shook her head. “Not a simple
pair. Five simple pairs please. I really don’t want to wear anything but these jeans for the rest of my life. I’m totally serious about this.”
He looked at her with that quizzical look again.
“What?” she asked, once again feeling self-conscious.
“You’ve changed,” he said. “I mean, you just seem different. That’s all.”
Roxxy had never felt guilty about pretending she was a crazy and uninhibited, sexy rock star, when in truth, she could barely bring herself to have sex with a man. And she’d been pretending for years to have the same carefree party girl persona she put on for all of her videos, giving one giggling and vacuous interview after another.
But standing there with Andrew, who was smiling down at her like he was seeing the real her for the first time and liking what he saw, caused an unfamiliar guilt to worm its way into her heart.
“People change,” she told him, looking away. “Especially if jeans are involved. You’ve got to admit, they’re a very powerful incentive.”
“Because they’re magic,” he said, grinning.
“Because they’re totally magic,” she said, grinning back at him, even though she was definitely no longer talking about the jeans.
“Andrew? Andrew is that you?”
They both looked up to see a pretty blond in a cute little sundress headed their way. She smiled and waved at them with sunshiney enthusiasm.
“Hey, honey poo,” she said, giving Andrew a peck on the lips when she reached them. “
She then turned to Roxxy with an even brighter smile. “And you must be Layla. I’m so happy to meet you, although, of course I wish it had been under better circumstances.” She laid a hand on her chest. “I was really sorry to hear about the divorce, and after all you two had been through.”
That was it, she was going to find her way to a computer so she could look up the Layla-Andrew story if it was the last thing she did. But out loud she said, “All good things.”
Amy strung an arm around Andrew’s waist. “Well, hopefully not all good things.” She wiggled her cute little nose up at Andrew. “What are you two doing here anyway? You didn’t tell me you were coming into town.”
“It was a last minute trip. Layla lost her luggage on the way out here and she needed some extra clothes.”
“So you took her shopping? How sweet! You’re so sweet.” She turned to Roxxy. “Isn’t he sweet?”
“That’s what everyone says,” Roxxy answered, working hard to keep a smile on her face. It was like having a conversation with someone who was her exact opposite. Someone wholesome and kind, who didn’t have any secrets or sexual hang-ups. Roxxy could understand exactly what attracted Andrew to her, and she couldn’t blame him one bit for wanting this girl over Layla, with whom he apparently had a drama-filled past.
“But you should have called me,” Amy said. “I would have been happy to take Layla shopping.”
“We’re almost done,” Andrew answered. “Do you want to have lunch?”
Amy’s face lit up, like he had made her entire day with a lunch invitation. “Sure! We can all go over to Grandma’s Cafe. They’ve got rhubarb and strawberry pie as the dessert special today.”
Having not been allowed to do so much as look sideways at a dessert for many years now, the mention of pie should have had Roxxy salivating. But just the thought of watching Andrew and Amy make googly eyes at each other for another hour killed any appetite she might have had.
“Actually, I’m not that hungry,” she said,
At the same Andrew said, “Layla has some stuff she wanted to do back at the ranch.”
They both stopped. Andrew to be polite, and Roxxy because she was so shocked he had been this quick to disinvite her. It almost made her want to say she didn’t have to get back to ranch, and was, in fact, now starving.
But Andrew didn’t give her a chance. He handed her a pair of hiking boots. “Get whatever else you need and tell them to put it on the Sinclair Ranch’s tab. After that, go back over to the repair shop. Jeb can give you a ride back to Sinclair.”
Then without so much as a “see you later,” he guided Amy away with a hand on her back, like she was precious cargo and he was trying to get her out of the reach of the ugly troll he’d come here with.
She watched them walk away. Amy and Andrew. Andrew and Amy. The perfect couple.
Roxxy was shaking with fury by the time the general store clerk finished ringing up all of her purchases. And the jeans she had been so elated about earlier definitely no longer felt like magic.
“YOU ARE NOT CALLING ME FROM a land line again,” said the D.A. a few minutes later.
“It’s a pay phone about an hour outside of where I’m staying, and believe me, I wouldn’t be doing it, if the situation hadn’t become untenable. You need to reassign me. Now. Tomorrow at the latest.”
“It doesn’t work like that. You’re not officially part of any witness protection program, so we can’t hand you over to the Feds. We’d have to find someplace to stash you, and since I’m without an assistant D.A. at the moment, I don’t have time to do that.”
“Wait, you still haven’t found him?” Roxxy asked.
“Not exactly. We traced his cell back to some motel called the Ride ‘Em Cowboy, but he still hasn’t called in, and it’s been forty-eight hours, so tomorrow we’ll be sending a team out to Montana to look for him.”
“Well, while they’re out here, can they come pick me up, too?”
“No, because officially, they don’t even know you’re out there and like I said, we have no place to put you up at the moment. Forgive me if we’re more concerned about finding the assistant D.A. of New York than making sure your hotel is up to your standards.”
“It’s not a hotel, it’s some guy’s home. And it’s not about a lack of amenities. I actually really like the place. But the guy I’m staying with…”
“Has he tried something with you? Tried to harm you in some way.”
“No, but he’s cold.”
“He’s cold?” the district attorney repeated.
“Yeah, and he’s not very nice. Everybody else thinks he is, but he’s not when it comes to me.”
“So let me get this straight. You want us to relocate you because your host, who doesn’t know you’re a celebrity, isn’t fawning all over you?”
Roxxy frowned. When he put it that way it did sound a little petty. And she doubted explaining how he had just ditched her to go to lunch with his girlfriend would impress the D.A. much either.
“He thinks I’m somebody else. Somebody I’m not. And I’m tired of lying to him,” she confessed.
“From what I can see, you’ve done nothing but pretend to be somebody you really weren’t for years now.”
“Yeah, but this is different.”
“How so? Because your life and well-being are at stake as opposed to your record sales?” The D.A. sighed. “Listen, Ms. RoxX, I don’t particularly like your music and right now I’m not liking you very much. We have an important missing person on our hands. And we are doing everything we can to solve your case as quickly as possible. All we need you to do is cooperate for a little while longer. Prove you’re not the brat the press has painted you out to be and stay put. Do that one thing for me, okay?’
Well, Roxxy felt thoroughly chastised. “Okay, I’ll stay put,” she said, now feeling very bad for making another unsanctioned call for what was beginning to seem like really frivolous reasons on her part. “I’m sorry. I hope you find Mr. Kass soon, and I wish I could be more help on that front.”
“Me, too,” he said. Then he hung up before she could ask him any more questions, including the one she had about sending money, so she could pay Andrew back.
CHAPTER 11
THE only good thing about getting ditched by Andrew Sinclair was that it alleviated some of the guilt surrounding the fact that Roxxy was lying to him and everyone who worked at the Sinclair Ranch & Resort about who she really was. So what if Andrew bought her jeans and if
everyone at the ranch was being super nice to her because they thought she’d just gotten divorced?
She knew from experience they’d turn positively slavish if they knew who she really was, treating her like some kind of royalty as opposed to another woman who’d gotten divorced just like the fifty percent of the country. And who cared if Andrew bought her some jeans and seemed to really appreciate how happy she was to receive them? It hadn’t been out of any sense of altruism on his part. He had pretty much said he was sick of her walking around his ranch looking like a harlot. Then he’d ditched her for his perfect girlfriend as soon as she was properly covered up.
Luckily for her, the car ride back with Jeb wasn’t too uncomfortable. His window seat was generator free, and he was old enough to be her grandfather. Instead of turning on the radio, he launched into a story about how his great-great-great-grandparents had come over from Europe, but ended up traveling west until they found a land of plenty, one they knew they wanted to stay in.
“That’s why you got to be careful of the Montana summer. It’s so beautiful this time a year, makes me people want to stay forever and the generations after them, too. Of course, it helps that their son, my great-great-grandfather met himself a Crow girl right round the time he turned seventeen. The girl ended up becoming my great-great-grandmother, and her Montana story goes back even further.”
Roxxy began to relax again. Jeb was more likely to talk her ear off, than try to get fresh with her, and even then she wouldn’t mind. His unending treasure chest of stories was worth a lost ear.
When she got back to the ranch, Elena and the other two women working with the children’s program greeted her with pleasant surprise, complimenting her on her new outfit. “Looks like you’re really one of us now,” Elena said.
And for the rest of the afternoon, Roxxy did feel like one of them. It was so much easier to play with children when you didn’t have to worry about flashing them if you squatted the wrong way. She spent the afternoon playing right along side the kids, doing cartwheels, playing badminton, and even a game of freeze tag.
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