One Night with the Boss

by Teresa Southwick

  “Do I know her?”

  “Probably not, if you have to ask.” He stared, assessing his friend. The man had dark hair and eyes that were nearly black. Women definitely took note of the tall rancher.

  Cabot caught the look and frowned. “What?”

  “My mother said I should alert you about her.”

  “Why would I need a warning about your mother?”

  “No. Tiffani. Mom said you’re a good-looking, rich man and I should give you a heads-up that she’s looking for a rescue from the bad situation she landed in.” He took the man’s measure again. “And I guess Mom is right. You’re not a bad-looking guy.”

  The other man held up his hands. “Don’t get the wrong idea about why I asked you here.”

  “You mean we’re not having a bromance?”

  “I don’t know what that is,” Cabot said. “But I don’t like the sound of it.”

  “It’s a combination of brother and romance. Olivia told me about it.” His assistant wasn’t just the smartest and most organized he’d ever had, she kept him up-to-date socially and with current cultural references. He was going to miss that. “Don’t get your spurs bent out of shape. It just means two guys who are good friends.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to say that?” Then Cabot grinned. “You had me worried for a minute. So, Tiffani?”

  “Yeah. I met her when we were seniors in high school and she dumped me my last year in college. Apparently she married a guy who worked on oil rigs. But according to my mother, things haven’t gone so well in the double-wide trailer with her husband in North Armpit Falls, Texas. And she’s on her way back to Blackwater Lake to rekindle things with me because now I’m not a penniless college dropout.”

  “So, is it a good thing?” Cab took a drink of his beer. “Her coming back, I mean.”

  “It’s not good or bad. It’s...” Brady shrugged, trying to come up with the right word. “Nothing.”

  “Then you have nothing to worry about.”

  “My mother thinks you might.” Brady pointed the long neck of his beer bottle in his friend’s direction. “You’ve got more than a few bucks.”

  “I do okay.”

  In fact, Cabot Dixon was very well off. There was money in land, cattle, horses and mineral rights.

  “A woman could do worse than you,” he pointed out.

  “Not looking for one.”

  “Still...” Brady knew the man’s experience with marriage had been bad. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Not long enough.” Cabot took a peanut from the basket and cracked it with more force than necessary. “And still not interested.”

  “Okay, then. My work here is done. You’ve been warned.” Brady wished someone had warned him about kissing Olivia. He was having a devil of a time keeping his mouth away from hers. Looking at her lips and not going there again was testing his willpower and he was trying the “out of sight, out of mind” philosophy. So far it wasn’t working very well, because he’d hunkered down in his office and still couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her again.

  Fortunately, the waitress picked that moment to stop at the end of the booth. She was in her late twenties with blond hair and blue eyes, dressed in worn jeans and a snap-front shirt. An apron with pockets was tied around her trim waist and she pulled an order pad from it. Her name tag read Ronnie.

  “So, have you made up your minds or do you need more time?” she asked.

  “Burger,” Cab said. “The works.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Coming right up.” She scooped their menus from the end of the table. “Do you need another beer?”

  They both declined and she disappeared.

  “So, Cab, what can I do for you? You said you wanted to ask my advice about computers.”

  His friend nodded as he cracked another shell and popped the nut in his mouth. “I’m looking to replace the one I’ve got. It’s old and limping along. If you asked me about running a ranch, I could bend your ear for hours, but computers are a mystery to me. Before making a move, I wanted some expert input. Figured it’s in your wheelhouse, what with running a technology company.”

  Brady had done pretty well in the field. Designing software had earned him the capital to start his own company and he’d never looked back. “Tell me what your needs are.”

  “I keep ranch records on it. Not just financial. I’ve got spreadsheets on the horses and cattle, too.”

  “What else?”

  “I want to do a new website. Professional. For the summer camp. A virtual tour of the facilities and everything we have to offer. I’m thinking about expanding.”

  “The camp is really important to you.” It wasn’t a question.

  Cab nodded. “As my son gets older, I can see the benefits of experiencing the outdoors. Can’t imagine raising him anywhere else. But a lot of kids don’t get that except once a year.”

  “I can set up a system for you,” Brady said. “And I’ll hook you up with a guy who’s a website designer. Really gifted, creatively and technologically.”

  “Is he here in town?”

  Brady shook his head. “He works remotely. Manages that division of O’Keefe Technology. We met in college. His name is Ian Bradshaw.”

  “That would be great. I was hoping you’d have a name. Wasn’t looking forward to researching that.”

  “Now that I think about it,” Brady said, “he’s coming to Blackwater Lake for the annual employee weekend. I’ll have him come in a few days early and send him your way.”

  “Great.” His friend took a sip of beer. “A new web design would help me get the word out without too much of a time investment for me.”

  “So, you’re busy.”

  “Between ranching and raising my son?” Cabot laughed. “There aren’t enough hours in the day to get everything done that needs doing.”

  “How old is Tyler now?”

  “Eight.” The man smiled and all the world-weariness slipped away. There was a mixture of love and tenderness in his voice. Clearly he was a proud father.

  Brady remembered what his sister had said when he played with his niece. That he would be a good father and it was a shame he wasn’t moving in that direction.

  He’d thought about it a lot, and watching Maggie with her daughter had released a feeling of yearning that he’d never experienced before. It was different. Strange. Impossible.

  “You’re a single dad, Cabot. How is that working out for you?”

  “Being a father is the hardest and most rewarding job I’ve ever done.” He toyed with his bottle of beer and tenderness gave way to tension on his face. “You know he was only a couple weeks old when his mother walked out.”

  “That must have been hard.”

  “There are no words to describe how hard.” Now anger swirled in his eyes. “I’d never even changed a diaper before. Yeah, I raised animals on the ranch, but that’s a whole lot different from being responsible for a baby. You don’t have to get up to feed a cow or horse every two or three hours. And there are no sleepless nights walking the floor with a fussy and teething puppy or calf.” He shrugged. “It’s not for wimps.”

  “And you did it all alone.”

  “I had Martha Spooner to watch him during the day. She mostly does housekeeping work now, but when Ty was little she’d come by because a lot of ranch work isn’t baby friendly. But nights it was Ty and me.”

  “He’s a great kid. You’re doing a terrific job with him.”

  “Thanks.”

  Ronnie the waitress brought their burgers and fries. “Anything else I can get you? Ketchup? Steak sauce? Another beer?”

  “Nothing for me.”

  “Me either,” Cab said.

  They ate in silence for a few moments, then Brady grabb
ed some napkins from the table dispenser and wiped his mouth. “Where is Ty tonight?”

  “Sleepover at C.J.’s house.”

  Brady knew he meant Jill Beck Stone’s little boy who’d been adopted by Dr. Adam Stone, the man who relocated to Blackwater Lake and rented the apartment upstairs from her. Now they had a baby and were building a sprawling house in the same luxury home development where his was located. There was another kid who’d spent some time in a single parent home, but C.J. and his mom got lucky. He couldn’t help thinking about Maggie.

  He and his sister had lost their own dad far too soon, but at least not in his formative years. Brady tried to be there for his niece as much as possible but would that be enough?

  He looked at Cabot. “I’m concerned about my niece not growing up with two parents.”

  “Yeah.” Cabot finished the last of his hamburger then squirted ketchup on the plate for the fries. “It had to be tough on Maggie losing her husband.”

  “I had my folks when I was a kid, but you’re dealing with it on your own. Any words of wisdom?”

  “You were lucky.” There was more his friend didn’t say, but his eyes narrowed with memories. “The way I see it, life is about playing the hand you’re dealt. It’s about building character. I figure I’ve got plenty of it to spare. Do I wish I could give Ty a childhood that’s normal? Yeah. Of course. But I had no say. That horse left the barn when my wife walked away from her infant son.”

  In a nutshell, that was why Cabot Dixon wasn’t looking for or interested in a woman. Brady felt the same way—but for a different reason. Caring about someone left you open and vulnerable to a pain that could happen anytime, anyplace, for any reason. So he didn’t let himself care.

  Take Olivia, for instance. She was leaving and he expected that after she was gone nothing would feel normal. Then again, his normal had changed when he’d kissed her.

  Before that kiss, her quitting would have been about losing an exceptional employee. Now he had to find a way to go back to the place where losing her couldn’t touch him deep down inside.

  Chapter Six

  Olivia pulled her compact car to a stop in front of her parents’ home, a two-story house three doors down from Maureen O’Keefe’s. This was where she’d grown up, three doors down from where Brady had lived. She’d nursed her crush on him in the upstairs dormer bedroom, a stone’s throw away from where he’d spent the nights of his youth.

  The home where Olivia had grown up was a white clapboard, four-bedroom place with hunter-green trim, shutters and front door. There was a wrought-iron glider on the covered porch where her parents sat in the evening when the weather was nice. More often than not, Brady’s mom would wander over and sit on one of the cushioned chairs that were there for neighbors who dropped by.

  She turned off the engine and drew in a deep breath against the stunning pain squeezing her heart. It suddenly hit her that when she moved away to California all of this, everything familiar, would be far away. Her whole life would change.

  But wasn’t that what she’d wanted?

  Before Brady kissed her, the answer to that question was a resounding yes. Now? The only thing she knew for sure was a deep and persistent confusion. And that she wasn’t looking forward to this family dinner as much as usual, not only because of the conversation they would have but because family dinners would be few and far between.

  Her younger sister’s car was parked at the curb in front of her. Prudence had left room for her and that thought had the backs of her eyes stinging with tears.

  “Olivia Lawson, stop it right now,” she said to herself.

  In order to sell her move as a happy thing to her family, it would be helpful to actually look happy.

  She exited the car and dragged in a breath when the bitter cold hit her. Snow from a recent storm still lingered on the ground where shadows from the trees and house sheltered it. She moved up the sidewalk and knocked once on the door before letting herself inside. “Hello? Anyone home?”

  “In the kitchen.” That was her mother’s voice from the room where she could usually be found, except on weekdays, when she taught fourth grade at Blackwater Lake Elementary. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

  Tears welled, again because someday very soon no one would be waiting for her.

  Olivia looked around the living room she’d spent so much of the last twenty-seven years in—as an infant, toddler, child, young adult, college student. Pictures on the oak mantel above the fireplace told her story without words. She never thought she would leave the town where she’d been born. How would the pictures change?

  Footsteps sounded on the light-colored wood floor just before her mother walked into the room. “Hey, sweetie.”

  “Hi, Mom.” She hugged her mother more tightly than usual. “How are you?”

  “Doing great.” Ann Lawson was the same height as her daughter, a blue-eyed blonde with a pixie cut. After a breast cancer diagnosis five years ago, she’d had chemo and lost her hair. When it grew back, she’d decided to keep it short and easy. She pulled back and frowned. “How are you?”

  “Fine.”

  Her mother didn’t look convinced, but said nothing more. “Your father and sister are anxious to see you. We all want to hear about your exciting news.”

  Arm in arm they walked down the hall, past the formal dining room with its cherrywood table and matching china cabinet. Ahead was the kitchen/great room that was the command-and-control center of the home. Through the years this was where they gathered and it was a comfort that some things didn’t change.

  A leather corner group sat in front of a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall above a fireplace with a roaring fire going. Her father was director of the local power company and would be busy when the next snowstorm hit, but right now he was relaxing on the sofa, watching a football game with Prudence.

  They both looked up and smiled when she entered the room.

  “Hi, Livvie.” Ken Lawson was a still-handsome fifty-two-year-old man with silver streaking his dark hair and neatly trimmed mustache.

  “Good to see you, Dad.”

  “Hey, sis.” Prudence stood and walked over to hug her. She was quite simply gorgeous and had inherited their father’s dark hair and gray eyes.

  “Hi, Pru.” Olivia gave her an extra squeeze, then pulled back and pasted a smile on her face. “What’s going on?”

  Her dad joined them by the kitchen island and slung his arm across her shoulders, pulling her close. “You’re the one with the news. Tell your old man what you’re up to.”

  She rested her cheek against his solid shoulder for a moment, then met his gaze. “A friend of mine from college is starting a technology company and asked if I’d be interested in working with him.”

  “So you get in on the ground floor?”

  “That’s right, Dad. The only catch is that the job is in California.”

  “That makes commuting out of the question,” he said.

  How like her father to defuse a situation with humor. Unfortunately she didn’t feel much like smiling. “But when he mentioned that my title would be vice president, it got my attention.”

  “I guess so.” Her father looked down and there was pride in his expression. “A good manager can spot talent when he sees it.”

  “Right now it doesn’t mean much, but...” She shrugged. “And you’re prejudiced.”

  “Nope. I’m not just saying that because you’re my little girl.”

  Pru made a scoffing sound. “You’re such a liar, Dad.”

  Maybe that’s where she’d gotten the gene for being an exemplary fibber, Olivia thought. “I’m just glad Colin has faith in me. That’s my friend—Colin Buchanan.”

  “I’ve met him,” her sister said. “He’s cute. Smart, too. Did he get married?”

  �
��No.” Olivia held up a finger when her sister showed signs of asking more. “And I don’t know anything else.”

  “Actually...” Pru put on her injured expression. “I was going to ask about your mysterious boyfriend who doesn’t live here.”

  He didn’t live anywhere besides her imagination, Olivia thought. But obviously her mother had passed on what she’d been told on the phone. Olivia hated lying in general, but particularly disliked deceiving the people she loved most in the world. The problem was that if she came clean about Leonard, her mother would tell Maureen because the women were best friends. As they always said, the bond had been forged through the fire of raising children and nothing could break it. As soon as the cat was out of the bag, Mrs. O’Keefe would pass the news on to Brady.

  She couldn’t tell the truth yet, but downplaying Leonard would set the stage for dumping him as soon as she left her job.

  “I understand his name is Leonard.” Her mother’s question was nonchalant, which meant she was working hard at keeping her voice neutral.

  “Really, Liv. Leonard?” Pru wrinkled her cute little nose. “Does he at least have a cool middle name you could use? Like Jack, Carson or Brad?”

  “No. It’s Sebastian.” And she didn’t have a clue where that came from any more than she did about the lie that started her down this cursed path. Might as well go for broke. “Leonard Sebastian Honeycut.”

  The three of them stared at her for several moments. It wasn’t often her family was speechless and she was kind of glad about it now. The fewer questions they asked, the less she had to lie.

  “Where did you meet him?” Ann pulled plates out of the cupboard and set them on the granite-topped island.

  “I had a trip to San Francisco.” That was no lie. “And I made a detour to see Colin in Southern California.” Also true. They could connect the dots. “It all worked out.”

  “I can’t wait to meet him,” Prudence said. “What does he look like?”

  Oh, dear Lord. “I don’t know,” she said. “Average.”

  “Sense of humor?” her mother wanted to know.

  “Just like mine.”