Tate (Cowboys & Debutantes: Contemporary Book 4)

by Kit Morgan

  Melanie tossed the phone into her camera bag, glad she had something to take her mind off Tate. Someone was coming to her apartment for a quick shoot, followed by more editing. She left her desk and went to the window, glad she could now do so without the crutches.

  She’d had the apartment for over a year, and was proud to have paid for it herself. True, her family had money, but the satisfaction of obtaining something with her own hard-earned cash meant she could take care of herself. She wanted, needed that freedom. She’d watched Casey defy her father, take Jake’s challenge to leave New York and strike out on her own – and by golly, the girl pulled it off. It was the nearest-run thing you ever saw, but she did it.

  Melanie returned to her desk, picked up the phone, brought up her contact list and chose Casey. She answered on the first ring. “Melanie!”

  “Hi, Casey.” She wondered if her friend would notice her lack of enthusiasm.

  “What’s the matter – somebody die or something?”

  Melanie smiled. Yep, she did. “No. I hurt my ankle last week, and it still hurts.”

  “Yeah, I heard about that. Finally, and not from you.”

  “What? Who told you?”

  “Jake, who else? Tate told him about it last week, and eventually he remembered to tell me. I tried to call you a few times, but your voice-mail box was full.”

  “Oh, sorry,” she said. “I had a lot of folks calling to see how I was. Dad put the word out that I’d had a horrible collision with a squirrel.”

  Casey laughed. “He what? Oh, that’s too funny. But I’m glad you’re okay. Did you find any models yet for the stuff I sent?”

  “No, afraid not.”

  “Good, ‘cause I have an even better idea!”

  Melanie was about to ask what it was when another call came through. She looked at her phone – Cassandra – rolled her eyes and ignored it. Two can play at that game. “So tell me, what’s your idea?”

  * * *

  Tate finished up in the office, checked on Georgie, then went to talk to Miss Williams the stable manager. She was in the arena, waiting for her client’s horse to be tacked. “There you are. Mind if I take off early?”

  She and Tate watched her client, a middle-aged woman, ordering Charlie the head groom around at the other end. “You own the place. Why are you even asking?”

  He laughed, remembering she worked for him, not the other way around. “Force of habit, I guess.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “So do you ask yourself if you can quit work early on your ranch?”

  He shook his head. “No, I ask Jake. Anyway, I’m off.”

  She eyed him a moment, half-smiling. “Off to see that girlfriend of yours?”

  “No, actually, I’m off to see Melanie.”

  “Miss Haeger?” Her brow knit. “From the way you’re acting, I thought it was … what’s her name again, Carina?”

  “Cassandra,” he corrected. “Melanie’s going to help me pick a gift out for Cass.”

  “I see. And you’re excited about the prospects?”

  “How excited can a man be when he has to bring someone along to help?”

  Miss Williams pressed her lips together to keep from laughing.

  “It’s true. I even told Melanie I’m not any good at this sort of thing.”

  “Come now, you can’t be that bad.”

  “I am. I haven’t a clue what to get Cass.”

  Miss Williams sobered. “Hmmm. Well, what if it were your mother or sister? Would you know what to get them?”

  “Of course, but I’ve known them all my life.”

  “Then best of luck to you. It is harder to buy for someone you’re not familiar with.”

  “It’s not that – it’s that Cass already has everything.”

  Miss Williams’ eyebrows rose. “Hmmm. Okay … what if, say, you wanted to buy a gift for Melanie? What would you get her?”

  “Melanie? Why would you ask that?”

  “Miss Haeger’s birthday is coming up. I know poor Charlie down there is trying to figure out something to get her. He’s sort of sweet on her,” she added with a conspiratorial wink.

  Tate stiffened and glared at the gangly Charlie, who was barely out of his teens, before catching himself. “A gift for Melanie, huh? That’s easy – get something for Georgie that she can use.”

  Miss Williams snapped her fingers. “And just like that, you thought of something. See, you’re not so bad at this after all.”

  Tate smiled. “I guess not.” But why couldn’t he come up with something so quickly for Cassandra. For Melanie, he could come up with quite a lot: something for her horse, something for her work, anything anti-squirrel – he could really have fun with that one. “When did you say her birthday was?”

  “I didn’t. But it’s October 30, I believe. Her father called to ask about holding a party here.”

  “Here?!”

  “We do them once in a while, mostly children’s parties. Only this one would have champagne instead of fruit punch. But he hasn’t signed anything. Melanie said you and he were getting chummy – maybe you can ask him?”

  Tate nodded, more to himself than to her. The thought of a birthday party for Mel at Dixie’s sent a twinge of excitement up his spine. “I will.” He left with a huge smile on his face. Cassandra wasn’t the only person he could go shopping for.

  * * *

  Tate pointed to an orange-and-white bracelet. “What about that over there?” They were bent over a display case in a jewelry store.

  Melanie slowly turned to look at him, her eyebrows rising in alarm. “You really are bad at this, aren’t you?”

  “I did warn you.”

  Melanie nodded. “You did. And though that’s very retro, that’s not Cassandra’s style.”

  “It’s not?” he said in surprise, eyeing the bulky bracelet again. “But she told me she loved stuff from the Sixties.”

  Melanie blinked. “She did?”

  “Several times.” Tate did a quick recall in his head. They’d even watched a few movies from the era together on cable. How could he have misunderstood her? She’d acted like she adored that era.

  “Like I told you before,” Melanie said. “Butterfly.”

  Tate frowned. He still hadn’t heard from Cassandra since yesterday. Why wasn’t she returning his call? The least she could do was text and tell him she was too busy to talk or get together …

  “I like that,” Melanie said, breaking into his thoughts.

  He studied the delicate-looking bracelet she was pointing at. “You like it, but would Cass?”

  She sighed. “To tell you the truth, Tate. I don’t know. She changes her mind a lot.”

  Tate sensed a sudden stiffness in her manner. Was she not enjoying herself? “You hungry?” he asked.

  “I could do with a bite.”

  “Good. Why don’t we take a break and grab something?”

  “Sounds good to me,” she said in relief. Yeah, maybe she wasn’t enjoying this.

  They left the store and went down the street a few doors to a small restaurant. “This look good to you?”

  “Yeah, I’ve eaten here before. They’re very good.”

  There was that odd stiffness again, as if she were a door trying to close, but couldn’t quite manage it. “Let’s eat here then.”

  They entered, got seated, ordered, then settled into a conversation about Dixie’s. “Charlie tells me Miss Williams gave him a little raise,” Tate said. “He’s pretty happy about it.”

  “Charlie’s a good groom – he should get a raise. He’s been working around Dixie’s since he was a kid.”

  “Oh?”

  “His dad used to work there, before your grandfather bought it.”

  Tate was startled. “Grandpa Joe didn’t found Dixie’s?”

  “No, he didn’t. I thought you knew that.”

  “No. Maybe I should’ve – I mean, building a place like Dixie’s from the ground up would be expensive.”

  “Defin
itely,” she agreed as their waitress brought their drinks.

  She took a sip of her iced tea, and Tate was suddenly aware of her full, strawberry-red lips touching the glass. She looked up as if she’d sensed him watching her. Maybe she had. Their eyes met, and heat shot through him. He picked up his own water and chugged it to cool himself down. She was still watching him when he set it back on the table. “Thirsty,” he said in explanation, sliding it to the edge of the table to be re-filled.

  She nodded, her eyes still on his, and he wondered if she’d felt anything. Something had just happened … but he couldn’t give into it. He was with Cassandra, wanted her, needed her, and he wasn’t about to blow it by some fleeting jolt of electricity between Melanie and him.

  “Me too,” she said, then drained her own glass, set it next to his and folded her hands in her lap. “I think Cassandra would like a necklace – if you’re set on buying her jewelry, that is.”

  He sat back in his chair to put distance between them. Good, best to get back to why they were together right now. “Okay. You know her well, what do you think she’d like?”

  “I don’t know her as well as you think. I work with her – it’s not like we hang out.”

  “Still, what do you think she’d like?” He noticed the edge in his voice – he was mad at himself for letting Melanie catch his eye. He was a grown man – he shouldn’t have allowed himself to feel …

  “Get her something you think expresses who she is to you.”

  He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, thankful she’d spoken. “You mean, how I see her?”

  “Yes.”

  Tate noticed she was suddenly more relaxed. Well, that was a relief. “I can do that.”

  She sat back and smiled. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  He couldn’t help smiling back. She was only trying to help, just like he’d asked her to. “No, not when you put it that way. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”

  “You’re a man. Men usually don’t think like that.”

  He laughed. “I’m sure some do.”

  She shrugged.

  He studied her a moment and noticed her mood had changed again, like a dark cloud across her face. “Have you dated much?” Why he wanted to know that, he had no idea, but there it was.

  “Not much. I’m always busy.”

  “That has to …” He almost said “suck,” but changed his mind. “Don’t you get lonely?”

  She laughed at that. “How can I be lonely? I’m constantly surrounded by friends, family and co-workers in the industry.”

  “That’s not what I meant. Don’t you want a special someone?”

  Her expression went blank, just for a second. “Everyone does.” Her voice was soft, as if she didn’t want him to hear it.

  “Lucky guy.”

  Her head cocked to one side.

  “Whoever ends up with you, Mel,” he elaborated. “He’s a lucky guy.”

  “Will be, you mean.”

  “Yeah, you know what I meant. Sometimes my mouth and brain don’t sync up right.”

  She giggled. “I understand that.”

  Their food came and they chatted about this and that as they ate. He sensed a weird dynamic between them. Chasms would open up with no way to cross, then suddenly a bridge would bring them together. He valued their friendship, wanted to get to know her better. Casey adored Melanie, and it was easy to see why – she was sweet and kind and generous with her time, and had an innate wisdom that was very admirable.

  Tate wondered if Cassandra had those qualities. He wondered even more why he didn’t know.

  Chapter 8

  Two weeks later …

  Cassandra Olson bit into her bagel with unrestrained relish. “Mmm. This is sooooo good!” she said, her mouth half-full.

  Tate watched her with mixed amusement and disgust. “You must really be hungry,” he commented as she devoured it in animalistic fashion.

  She suddenly stopped and stared at him.

  “You, um, have cream cheese on your chin.” He pointed.

  She grabbed a napkin, wiped it off, chewed and swallowed, smacking her lips. “You have no idea what it’s like to be a top model. We have to starve to make a living. It’s a shame we can’t spend all that money we make on food!”

  He thought that was dubious, but what did he know? It could be true. A thought struck him. “You aren’t, uh…. doing things to ensure you …” He looked her up and down. “… stay as thin as possible for your job?”

  She glared at him. “What are you implying?”

  He’d better choose his words carefully – he didn’t want to hurt her feelings or make her mad. “You know, going a little over the top?”

  “Certainly not! I try to take good care of myself, Tate. As I would think you’d noticed.”

  Oh, he’d noticed all right. It was the first thing he’d noticed about her – she was stunning, as if carved out of marble. But then, everyone noticed. She turned more than a few heads walking down the streets of New York, that was for sure. He smiled at her and winked. “How can I not?”

  Looking satisfied with this answer, she took another bite of her bagel.

  “So tell me about your work,” he asked, changing the subject. “What sorts of things are you modeling right now?”

  She put her bagel down and wiped her mouth again, carefully making sure not to leave anything on her chin this time. “Oh, this and that,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Not a lot, really. I’m waiting to hear from several big magazines – I’ll hold out for them.”

  “Weren’t you working a lot a couple of weeks ago? Especially early in the week?”

  She scrunched up her face in thought. “You mean like Monday, Tuesday?” She shook her head. “Mmm, no. Why?”

  Now he was suspicious. “Melanie said you were working. You heard about her ankle?”

  She nodded and picked up the bagel, taking another gleeful bite.

  Tate stared at her a moment, not sure of what to think. He knew Cassandra was supposed to help Melanie with her mother/daughter photo shoot, but told her she had other work going and couldn’t make it. Had she lied? “Melanie did her shoot without you.”

  “Did she?” Cassandra replied picking at crumbs on her plate.

  “I helped her.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “You? You helped Melanie?” she said in amusement.

  “Somebody had to.”

  She rolled her eyes and waved her hand again. “Someone would’ve turned up to help her – you didn’t have to. Besides, you don’t know what you’re doing.”

  That irritated him even more. “No, I don’t, but it was easy enough to learn and do what she told me. It’s not rocket science, Cass.”

  She cringed. “Don’t call me that anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just don’t like it, that’s all.”

  He studied her a moment. She’d liked it fine up until now. What changed? He watched her take a few sips of her coffee. “Better?” he said.

  “Yes. I was starving.” She grabbed her purse, took out a small cosmetic bag and reapplied her lipstick. After blowing him a kiss, she put it back. Normally the playful gesture would get him thinking about a real kiss, but now all he could think of was how Cassandra had so flippantly brushed Melanie off, even though she knew she was injured.

  “So,” Cassandra resettled herself on her side of the booth. “What shall we do today?”

  “I thought we might go hiking. I heard about a state park out on Long Island that has some good trails.”

  She shuddered. “Hiking? At this time of year?”

  “What do you mean?” he said, perplexed. “It’s a beautiful fall day. We should be out in it.”

  She made a face. “Can’t you think of something else?”

  He sighed and smiled at the same time. Maybe she was just tired and the hike was too daunting to think about. He had mentioned to her before that a hike to him was at least fi
ve miles. “Okay, what do you want to do?”

  “Let’s go to SoHo,” she said with a happy smile.

  “What’s that? And where’s that?”

  “You mean you don’t know what SoHo is?” she said with a laugh.

  “Should I?”

  She laughed some more, drawing a few looks from the deli’s other customers. “It’s one of the best shopping neighborhoods in New York, if not the best. You can buy me something.”

  I already did, he thought. Should he give it to her now?

  Cassandra scooted out of her booth in one smooth move and stood. “Let’s go.”

  “Go … where? We haven’t decided what we’re doing yet,” he said. He downed what was left of his coffee and put the cup on the table.

  “We’re going to SoHo,” she said, as if it was his idea. “Come on, you’ll love it.”

  Somehow Tate didn’t think so, but followed her out the door into the nearest subway station. He had a feeling this was going to be a long afternoon.

  * * *

  Tate walked into the apartment building and met Bernard’s stare. “And what have ye been up to, me fine lad?” the doorman chuckled. “Ye look like ye’ve either had a run-in with an angry herd of caterpillars…”

  “What?” Tate exclaimed in confusion.

  “… or a tumble with a lass,” he finished with a waggle of eyebrows. “Does she have a sister, perchance?”

  Tate’s eyes went wide, and he wiped at the lipstick on his left cheek, then ran his hand through his hair. He didn’t so much tumble as fall – or almost; he’d been literally saved by the bell. Cassandra’s doorbell, to be exact. Thankfully she’d jumped to answer it, saying it could be her agent. It wasn’t, just a friend of hers that was visiting for a few days, but it gave him the chance to reel himself in and get out of there. How he’d managed to let things go as far as they did, he had no idea.

  Shopping with Cassandra had been a blur – she jumped from store to store like a frenzied kangaroo, stuffing goods into her pouch faster than he’d ever seen and leaving him in her wake to pay for it all. She also pulled him into several dark corners to kiss him senseless and make his mind go blank. He apparently didn’t have the self-control he thought he did – not until a store clerk gave them the stink-eye did he tell her to knock it off. But her solution to that was to invite him up to her apartment …