Sweet Texas Charm

by Robyn Neeley

  A senior vice president in the room explained that she could keep her job in the plant, and she’d be eased into her responsibilities as the primary shareholder. The CEO apparently couldn’t be bothered to stick around for that conversation.

  She’d never forget the vibration from her knees knocking as she counted the number of zeros on the paper Grayson had handed her. She now kept the paper in her white smock for anytime she wondered if it was all a dream. She found staring at it was far less painful than pinching herself.

  The question still on her mind even after two months: Why had Jack given her the shares?

  Stepping into the factory, she took in all the activity from workers chatting while they peeled avocados to the steady hum of the conveyer belts being prepped for today’s activity. It would be another busy day that would end with shipping out thousands of containers of dip.

  She beelined into the break room and grabbed a clean smock out of her locker that covered up her coffee stain perfectly, and replaced her old cowboy boots with her more sensible, no-slip work shoes.

  Her gaze rested on the yearly calendar taped into her locker. Today was the second day in August. In thirty days, her life would further change. Becca was grateful that she could keep her job in the factory, because this was her home. Still, what would happen next month when she became a bona fide shareholder? Would they make her move to the corporate office?

  Pulling her hair off her face into a tight bun, she headed into the workspace she shared with the other shift supervisors and pulled her brown clipboard off the wall, glancing down at today’s production schedule.

  “Good morning, Ms. Boss.” Tangie Walker, Becca’s colleague and best friend since middle school, came over, all grins. Becca had gotten Tangie the job at Guac Olé three years ago, when she’d been looking to get out of retail. “How’s the lifestyle of the rich and famous?”

  “Wouldn’t know.” Becca hung her clipboard back up and sat down behind the metal desk, checking to see if the supervisor before her had left any notes in the communications log. She didn’t go around flaunting her elevated salary, but word had gotten out that she’d be receiving the shares. Her colleagues had been thrilled for her, but they would occasionally bust out jokes, especially Tangie.

  “So, I stopped by Betty Lou’s Diner this morning and was in line behind Gavin Cooper, who was talking about Grays—”

  “Stop.” Becca threw her hand up, blocking the next words out of Tangie’s mouth. Betty Lou’s Diner was the epicenter for Sweet Ridge’s small-town gossip. Becca knew this all too well since she’d worked there as a short order cook throughout high school and then as a waitress before she started working at Guac Olé.

  “You don’t even know what I was going to say,” Tangie protested.

  “Oh, yes, I do. I know what the buzz is about. I do not care what this whole town seems to think. I am not going to date, let alone get married to, Grayson Cooper. I’d rather adopt ten kittens and die alone someday covered in cat hair.”

  “I heard Grayson’s single.” Tangie sat on the edge of the desk, crossing her legs and glancing out the window in the direction of the corporate office building.

  “That doesn’t surprise me.” Becca huffed and flipped the pages of the communication log. “Would you date him?” she asked, not bothering to look up until more than a few silent seconds ticked by.

  “Tangie!”

  “What?” Tangie asked, playing all innocent while curling her long, blond ponytail between two fingers.

  “I can’t believe you would go out with him.” Becca shook her head. But she really shouldn’t be surprised. Grayson was known around town as being able to charm any gal by flashing his dimples. “He’s the enemy.”

  “But he’s freakin’ hot.” Tangie fanned herself before jumping off the table. “And you two are meant to be together. It’s what Jack wanted. The other Cooper boys are now with the women who received their inheritances.”

  That point was true. “Maybe it’s some weird coincidence that Gavin and Gage ended up with those women.” Becca had never met Macy Young or Charlotte Wilkinson—now Cooper. From what she’d heard, Macy had inherited the Cooper house and Charlotte was given some land Jack owned on the outskirts of Sweet Ridge. Besides, he’s not my type.”

  “So, who is? It has been way too long, girlfriend.” Tangie reached into her smock’s front pocket, pulled out a tube of cherry ChapStick, and swiped her lips.

  Becca slid the regulation plastic cap over her head. What man is my type? She’d been on a string of lousy first dates over the last couple of years and hadn’t been in a serious relationship since her early twenties, and that one ended abruptly when the jerk skipped town with her credit cards.

  At thirty, it wasn’t that she wasn’t open to finding love with a man she could trust who would love her back, but when would she have time to find that guy? She stood and straightened her smock, reaching for the note Grayson had given her with her new salary.

  For some odd reason, her fingers began to tingle, and she quickly removed her hand from the pocket. “I don’t know what my type is, but it’s definitely not Grayson. I need to be with someone who’s warm and—”

  “Oh, I bet he can generate some substantial heat.”

  Becca rolled her eyes and gave Tangie a push out the door. They headed past the steel guacamole vats to the peeling stations. Guac Olé dip was made with hand-peeled avocados, and Becca loved that part of the job. With twenty employees assigned to the area, the peeling station was always full of conversation, laughter, and bonding. It’s here where they’d all huddled around a cell phone to watch the video of Mitch Carpenter’s twins taking their first steps and Sophie Garcia’s excitement over her daughter’s acceptance into Baylor, the first in her family to go to college. The factory was a special place with wonderful, hardworking people running it.

  Becca grabbed her first ripe avocado and began to peel. Shares or no shares, this was the only place in Guac Olé she belonged. A corporate office was not for her.

  An hour later, she was deep in conversation with Chuck McAllister, one of her favorite employees who always made everyone laugh and secretly had a crush on Tangie. He had her so tied up in stitches over his Donald Trump impression that she failed to notice a young woman had come up behind her.

  Judging by her crisp, white button-down shirt, black pencil skirt, and doe-eyed look, Becca suspected she was one of the handful of summer corporate interns. Thank God she didn’t have to wear that uncomfortably starched shirt and those impossible-to-walk-in high heels.

  “Can I help you?” Becca asked, setting down her avocado and wiping her hands with a nearby paper towel.

  “Are you Becca Nash?”

  Tangie chuckled. “For now.”

  Becca shushed her friend and nodded. “I am. What can I do for you?”

  The intern handed her a folded note.

  “Thank you.” Becca raised her eyebrow at the girl, who made no movement to leave.

  “Do you need anything else?”

  “Just an answer.” She lowered her voice. “Mr. Cooper asked that I let him know your response.”

  “Response to what?”

  The young woman pointed to the note.

  “Oh, yeah. Right.” Becca opened it and read what she assumed was Grayson’s handwriting.

  Becca,

  Please join my brothers and me Saturday night for the Battle of the Bands competition. Text me at 555-2431 when you get there. I’ll escort you to where we are.

  —Grayson

  Becca’s hand began to shake and she gripped the note. This was certainly not expected after last night’s hostile encounter. She narrowed her eyelids. What was he up to?

  Well, there was no way she’d accept this invitation. “You can tell him I lost my phone.”

  Tangie whistled, snatching up the note in Becca’s hand as the intern scurried away. “I knew one of you would cave. I can’t believe Swanky Suit asked you out on a date.”

  “
Well, I’m not going.” Becca grabbed an avocado and began to peel it.

  Whatever Grayson was up to, she was all but sure that the invitation to hang out wasn’t his way of welcoming her into the Guac Olé shareholders’ family.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Becca grabbed her brown hobo bag and hopped out of the truck, straightening her yellow sundress. She scanned the long street that had been blocked off from traffic and was now full of lively pedestrian merriment.

  Half the town would show up at some point for the annual Founders’ Day celebration that took place the first weekend in August and was one of the highlights of the summer. A jam-packed three days full of good food, lots of beer, arts and crafts vendors, live music, and fun. Local business owners loved the foot traffic that started on Friday morning and went straight through Sunday night.

  She’d worked late last night, missing all the first day activities, but earlier today she’d brought her mother down to visit with some of her friends, have lunch, and browse the arts and crafts tables lined along Main Street. Her mom thoroughly enjoyed seeing her old friends and had left with a few fall country knickknacks to decorate her new apartment, including the cutest little straw scarecrow and cornucopia wall ornaments. They’d had a great time, and she was happy to get her mom out of her apartment for a bit of walking.

  Once they’d both had enough of the Texas heat, Becca had taken her mom home and then spent the afternoon helping her hang her new wall ornaments and tidy up a bit. She also took a few minutes to talk with her mother’s round-the-clock nurses for the assisted living residence located on the town’s outskirts.

  While her mom was in the early stages of her disease, they were optimistic that her quality of life would remain the same for the time being. Things would eventually change, but Becca grasped and held on tightly to all these special moments together as long as they had them.

  “Hey, cowgirl! Over here.” Tangie waved from across the street. Becca waved back and headed over. Always in style, her friend radiated sass in a cute purple baby doll dress and matching purple western boots.

  Becca had said no at first to hanging out tonight at the Founders’ Day weekend Battle of the Bands event. What if she ran into Grayson? Tangie had made a pretty compelling case that the street party would be jam-packed, and they would avoid the VIP area, where most likely the Cooper men would be hanging out.

  “You look awesome. I love that dress and those boots,” Tangie said.

  “Thanks.” Becca did a little heel-toe jig, showing off her new tan and yellow Lucchese. The pair was the only thing she’d treated herself to with her new six-figure salary. “I couldn’t help the splurge, but I haven’t had an occasion to wear them.”

  “If I had a pair of those boots, I’d wear them everywhere.”

  “Not me.” Becca adjusted her long ponytail and squared her shoulders. “Even if I can afford expensive shoes, I am never going to be one of those rich women who slips them on just to run to the grocery store or post office.” She touched her friend’s shoulder. “And if I ever do become that woman, you have my permission to slap me.”

  Tangie looped her arm around Becca’s, turning her in the direction of the crowd. “You got it, bestie. Now, let’s go get us some cowboys.”

  Becca could only laugh at her best friend’s insistence that she find a man. It was highly unlikely it would happen tonight. But as they headed for the crowd, she stopped dead in her tracks.

  “What’s wrong?” Tangie asked, spinning around.

  “I don’t think I want to go over there.” Becca eyed the large crowd gathered near the band stage.

  “Of course you want to go over there. There is where you’re going to find an eligible hometown hunk.” She grabbed Becca’s arm. “C’mon. Cowgirl up!”

  “But do you hear that?” Becca yanked her hand free. There was no way she was going any closer.

  “Oh, Becca. I know it’s been a long time, but that’s called music.” Tangie waved her hands and spun around. “You dance to it.”

  “It’s not the music. It’s the singer. That’s Macy Young.”

  “So? I thought you liked her songs. Don’t you have her CD in your truck?”

  “Yes, but that means Grayson is here already.”

  It didn’t take long to spot him in the crowd. There he stood to the right of the stage, looking handsome, albeit completely out of place, in a black polo and tan khakis. Red Solo cup in hand, he was laughing it up with a redheaded woman Becca didn’t recognize. “That man seriously belongs in Rhode Island and not Texas.”

  “But if he lived there, you couldn’t go on a date with him again like you did earlier this week.”

  “That was not a date.”

  “Well, according to the grapevine, the sparks were flying in every direction.”

  “Those were not sparks. That was the guacamole I dumped on him for accusing me of blackmail.”

  She stifled a giggle. “I heard about that, too.”

  Becca raised an eyebrow. “And you’re laughing?”

  “Not about that part. The guacamole. Man, I would have killed to see him covered in it. Does he really think you had something on Jack?”

  “I don’t know. He was grasping to make sense of it all. I’m surprised he didn’t accuse me of sleeping with his father.”

  That got a loud chuckle out of her friend. Tangie gave her a supportive hug, her silver and gold bracelets jangling off her wrist. “If he ever accuses you of that, I’ll march into his office and let him know the deal.”

  “How?” Tangie on her “I can set any man straight” rants was always entertaining.

  “I’d tell him you haven’t had sex in eons.”

  “Thanks,” she said sarcastically. Grayson Cooper didn’t need to know about her sex life, or lack of it these days, as the case may be.

  Since their confrontation in the Silver Spurs, she’d done her best to put their unpleasant encounter out of her mind. Seeing Grayson in the crowd made her blood boil all over again.

  How could he accuse her of blackmailing his father? It was not only preposterous but insulting. Never mind that she was not the type of woman to do something so evil for personal gain, but she highly doubted that the hardworking, sincere, and likable Jack Cooper had any secrets she could have exploited.

  And she was not interested in another altercation with the cocky CEO, at least not sober. She spun her boots in a one-eighty. “Let’s go get a drink first. On me.”

  Tangie followed her down the street, not amused that they were moving away from any prospect of her getting her flirt on. “Becca, you’re going to run into him eventually. Never mind that there are only three thousand residents in this town, but in a few short weeks you’ll be working together.”

  “Don’t remind me.” Becca picked up her speed, flying by This Bud’s for You flower shop and Bluebonnet Books, determined to get far away from Grayson. “Let’s stop by Betty Lou’s Diner and say hi to Betty Lou first. She told my mom and me today that she was making her infamous buttermilk onion rings for tonight that you love so much.”

  Tangie’s loud sigh at that suggestion was a bit melodramatic, but her friend wouldn’t leave her. She caught a glimpse of Betty Lou manning her outside food table solo and instantly got nostalgic.

  Besides being the place in town to stop in for the best coffee and donuts in South Texas, the diner had been Becca’s second home growing up. Her mom had worked here for years as a waitress. A young, preteen Becca had spent countless hours running around the kitchen while her single mom worked long hours, often double shifts, to support them.

  Betty Lou had given her mom the second chance she needed after years of hitting the bottle, which led her father to file for divorce when Becca was twelve. Her dad now lived in Dallas with his second wife, and though they didn’t see each other often, Becca had accepted his invitation last year to spend the Fourth of July with him. He’d even sent her a picture of them at a picnic that she had taped in her locker.

 
; In addition to giving her a job, Betty Lou had also helped her mom enter an Alcoholics Anonymous program. Though her mother had been sober now for more than three decades, the damage from all those years of heavy drinking had been done.

  The diner’s owner became Becca’s godmother, mentor, and friend, too. And she’d been the one who taught Becca to cook and even given her a job waiting tables when she’d left college for good to come home and take care of her mother when she had trouble functioning daily.

  “Hi, girls.” Betty Lou scurried behind the table, grabbing a tray of chicken wings. Her gray hair was swept up in a messy beehive bun, a noticeable scowl on her face that couldn’t be disguised with her funky red glasses.

  “Is everything okay?” Becca asked, glancing at all the customers in line. Several were smiling at her. She suspected it had something to do with her new status. Though it had been two months, she hadn’t quite gotten used to her new wealth, and she would never get used to, nor accept the gossip that she’d been preselected by Jack for Grayson. Never. She turned toward Betty Lou. “Can we help?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I’m not sure I have enough appetizers, and I had to send my waitress who has the flu home. I’m the only one here.” Betty Lou grabbed a water bottle and took a swig. “The dining room is closed for the evening, but we always have an outside stand for the Battle of the Bands’ patrons. I hate to let anybody down, but I might have to call it an early night if I run out of food and can’t get back into the kitchen.”

  The beloved diner owner didn’t have to say it, but business was always lighter in the summer, especially this year because of a Cracker Barrel opening up just off the highway. This annual weekend would, no doubt, bring in some much-needed foot traffic.

  “I’ll pitch in. Tangie will, too.”

  Tangie nodded. “What do you need?”

  “Oh, girls, I couldn’t ask you to do that. You’re here to hear the bands. You two, go have some fun.”

  Tangie headed behind the table, throwing her purse underneath, then grabbed Becca’s and did the same. “I’ll man the table.” She reached over and grabbed one guy’s cowboy hat, placing it on her head. “What can I get you, cowboy?”