Cowboy: The Mathesons - Book 2

by Rhodes, Declan

  “I’m talking to you, so I think that answers your question.”

  He chuckled on his end of the phone. “You’ve got a point there. Hey, what’s your evening like tonight? Are you busy?”

  Simon and I were on a schedule of three dates a week, and it was a free night for me. Fortunately, I’d even left work by 5:00. “Honestly, I don’t have anything on my plate. I was going to curl up on the couch and watch something on TV that I’ve all watched three times already.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Because you never know, it could turn out different in the end. There’s always a chance.”

  Ted laughed. “How about you meet me at Sagebrush at 9:00? I might even let you be Fred for a change.”

  “I’ll be there, Ted. I’ve missed you. I’ve missed all of Sagebrush, but it’s for positive reasons.”

  I dropped Simon a text message about the night out dancing, and he encouraged me to have fun. I told him to give his two moms a big hug when they settled in for a family movie night. I suggested that he offer to pop the popcorn.

  * * *

  It didn’t take long to pick up where I’d left off with both the line dances the two-steps partner dances with Ted. I did step on his right foot once. He said, “Hey, Fred, Ginger has tender toes. Keep those clodhoppers off my feet! Watch out!”

  “Okay, sorry, I’m a little out of practice. Who’ve you been dancing with while I’ve been gone?”

  We spun around again in two more circles. He said, “Mostly with Skip. You know him.”

  “He’s a maniac. I mean, seriously. He goes a little over the top with the spins. I let him lead with me once. It was awkward with my height, and yeah, a little too much. I was dizzy by the time the dance was over.”

  Ted shook his head. “He’s not so bad most of the time, but I’m glad to have my Fred back.”

  About half an hour into the evening, we took a breather. I followed Ted to the bar and sat on a stool. We each ordered beers while the rest of the crowd lined up for songs about horses, cowboys, and the different things you’d do with each of them.

  Ted tossed back his first mouthful of beer. “You know, I have to ask. What’s been keeping you away? I know you mentioned your brother was in town, but he’s been gone for a while. Did you forget about all the handsome boys here in boots and chaps?”

  “I think you should go first and tell me how you’re doing.”

  “Why’s that? I asked the question.”

  I winked. “‘Cause I got a story to tell.”

  “Damn, I wish I did. I’m still looking for that nice oasis in the middle of my dating desert. Seriously, it’s getting worse. I’ve started looking at the obviously bad choices and thinking maybe.”

  “But you’re a good-looking guy, solid job, fun to be around. Are you putting all of that in your profile? Is that part of your elevator speech at the bars?”

  Ted sighed. “And in case you never noticed, I’m past the big 4-0, and I can’t lie about it. That narrows the field quite a bit.”

  I reached out and put a hand on Ted’s shoulder. “Maybe I should keep my story to myself.”

  He shook his head. “No, I need to hear some good news. Lay it on me. You can leave out the intimate details, but yeah, did some lucky guy figure out what a catch you are?”

  “No, that’s not exactly what happened. The guy I can’t forget is giving me a second chance.”

  “Simon? Seriously? Both of you came to your senses?”

  I let a sheepish grin animate my face. “Yeah, can you believe it?”

  “I thought he was with that Hamish guy.”

  I sighed. “I read that all wrong. Hamish is helping out by investing in Simon’s new business. I can’t criticize him for that.”

  “But it is a commitment.”

  Ted said the one thing that I didn’t want to hear. I knew that a financial tie meant that Simon was indebted to Hamish in one way, and I still didn’t entirely trust him, but I tried to forget about that. I said, “We all have financial commitments. That’s a fact of modern life. I have Simon. That’s what matters.”

  “You do look happy.”

  “Is there any chance of a reunion with Dodge?”

  Ted smirked. “Yeah, right. He went back to South Dakota. I haven’t heard anything from him in months. My cowboy rode off into the sunset never to return.”

  I said, “I took Simon to a baseball game. You should have seen his face.”

  “You? Baseball? By your choice? I don’t believe it.”

  I nodded. “I have to fess up. Mason suggested it, but yeah, baseball games aren’t as bad as I thought. We had fun, and the Yankees won!”

  Ted reached out for my thigh. He slapped it and then squeezed. “You know, Tate, I’m very happy for you, buddy. I am glad the two of you are back together, and I trust you’re both wiser than before. That’s usually the way it works if you get a second chance.”

  “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

  Ted swallowed the last of his bottle of beer. “Hey, I’ve got a suggestion, too. Why don’t you bring that cowboy to Sagebrush? He’d fit right in, and I’d love to say hi.”

  “But then you’d have to dance with Skip.”

  Ted chuckled softly. “I think I could survive that. I’ve been doing it for a few weeks now. You’re right about his intensity, though. I was sore for a couple of days after each of the first three times I spent the evening dancing with him. You get used to it after awhile. I tell myself it’s a good workout.”

  I picked at the label on my beer bottle. “I’m not sure that Simon would like it.”

  “He won’t know until he tries it. I was skeptical the first time I stepped through the saloon door. You didn’t think you liked the baseball games.”

  I had to admit that Ted was right about the baseball analogy. Maybe Simon would like to indulge in one of my interests to bring us closer together. I said, “Yeah, I think I’ll bring it up. It’s worth a try. I’d love to dance with him.”

  “Are you ready to get back out to the floor? I heard Reggie say he’s playing one of your line favorites next. I like to have you to follow because you never forget the order of the moves. I screw that up too much if I don’t have a good example to follow. Then the whole line goes down like a row of dominos.”

  I chuckled and swallowed the last of my beer. “Yep, that sounds good.” As I stood, I felt the phone buzz in my pocket. It was an odd time to get a call, but I hoped it was Simon. I thought perhaps he ended up with the rest of his night free and wanted to go out for a late-night snack.

  I waved Ted out to the floor and said, “Let me check this. I’ll be right there and catch up.”

  Sadly, it wasn’t Simon at all. It was one of my staff sending me a panicked text message.

  “We hate this, Boss, but our team screwed a deadline. We need help if you can get here. We’re at the office. It’s gonna be late.”

  I didn’t know what the emergency was, but I couldn’t leave my business in the lurch. I caught up to Ted and explained the situation in as few words as possible. Seconds later, I was at the curb hailing a taxi for the Matheson and Greene offices.

  * * *

  Leon’s eyes were wide with panic when I caught up to him in the office. He had a co-worker and two interns seated around a table. He said, “You can fire me tomorrow if you want, but this has to get out tomorrow. I can’t believe I did this.”

  As it turned out, the situation wasn’t as dire as Leon feared, but it was going to take hours of late night cleanup to straighten things out again. I estimated that we’d finish up somewhere around 4:00 a.m.

  Leon said, “Thank you for showing up. The bosses at Cameron and Wentz would never do anything like this. They threw us into the pool to sink or swim. By the way, nice duds, Boss.”

  I glanced down at myself seeing the Western snap shirt and my big bronze belt buckle and laughed softly. “Yep, I was out for a nice evening of dancing.”

  After I helped
calm everyone down and put each of them to work on a different element of the campaign, I excused myself to retreat to my office.

  As I sat behind my desk, I felt a strong sense of deja vu. In the early days of working for Matheson and Greene in New York, I spent a lot of hectic late night hours at the office. It stretched into my time with Simon. He hated when I worked late nights. Sometimes, I didn’t make it home until shortly before breakfast.

  I was more exhausted than I expected. Discussing Simon with Ted was emotionally tiring, and I wasn’t used to dancing. It was always a great source of exercise, and I needed to get back to my normal aerobic fitness level. I was still lifting in the gym in my apartment building, but I usually skipped out on the cardio portion of the workout.

  I got up, dropped a coffee cartridge into the coffee maker in the corner of my office, and remembered something I’d forgotten in my desk. Pulling open the upper right-hand drawer, I smiled with relief when I saw that it was still there.

  The frame was lying face down in the rear of the drawer. I pulled it out, rubbed the glass with the sleeve of my Western shirt and set it up on the desk. Staring back at me from inside the frame was the man I loved.

  In a fit of frustration after we broke up, I shoved the frame face-down as far back in the drawer as it would go. It was part of my attempt to push Simon far out of my mind. I did forget about the photo, but I never could forget about him. Now, he was back, and I wanted to look at him every day as a reminder of what was more important than the work. Looking at Simon’s smiling face would remind me every morning of the most important thing in the world.

  18

  Simon

  After the text conversation with Tate ended, I wondered whether I should have asked my moms if it would be okay to excuse myself after the first movie to join Tate at Sagebrush. Unfortunately, that sounded too much like a high school kid asking if he could go out on a school night. It was my decision to make, and I didn’t want to disappoint my moms.

  Tate told me his buddy Ted was the one who suggested the night out, and he missed the dancing. I wanted Tate to have the chance to enjoy hanging out with a friend. I just didn’t want him to enjoy it too much in a room full of cowboys.

  Cuddling up on the couch with my two moms, I tried to put Tate and the cowboys out of my mind. He was likely to send me a text later anyway. Maybe it would even have a photo attached.

  Mom Missy said, “We can’t decide. Can you help us out, Simon?”

  Mom Tina added, “You mean that you can’t decide. I told you that I’m fine with whatever decision you make. I’ll watch anything.”

  “See how Tina’s being?” said Mom Missy. “I know she has an opinion, but that’s the way she is. She wants to give abdicate and give me her choices. Tina, tell us what you’d like to see. We’ve got that series on Picasso that you wanted to watch.”

  Mom Tina’s eyes lit up. “Would you both like to see that? I’m worried it’s a little too much like bringing work into our family time.”

  “It would be useful for my work,” shrugged Mom Missy. “It got great reviews, too. Maybe we should ask Simon if he’d enjoy it.”

  I held up both of my hands. “Oh no, don’t bring me into this discussion. It’s your movie night, and I’m along for the ride.”

  Mom Missy smiled. “And you thought we never had any disagreements.”

  Finally, they abandoned the lessons in art history and settled on a mini-Katharine Hepburn festival. They chose three movies that spanned her career because one of them liked Hepburn better when she was young, while the other preferred late-career films.

  As the evening drifted into the middle of the third movie, The Lion In Winter, I glanced at my watch. It was after 9:30, and I knew that Tate was at Sagebrush. I hadn’t heard from him since early in the evening. My concentration on the movie waned as I wondered about Tate.

  Half an hour later, I couldn’t stop the thoughts about Tate dancing close to his cowboy buddy Ted. It drifted in and out of my mind. Fortunately, Mom Tina was so invested in the movie that she frequently pointed at the screen and let out gasps, grunts, and sighs. At one point, she shook her head saying, “No, no, no!” Her actions provided a lot of welcome distraction.

  When the movie came to an end, both of my moms applauded. They were so excited about the film that I almost didn’t hear the tone announcing a text message on my phone. Excitedly, I pulled it out of the pocket of my jeans.

  It wasn’t Tate. I was surprised to find I had a text message from Hamish at 10:00 p.m. Almost all of our interaction took place in regular business hours during the day. He said:

  “Simon! I found another investor. Come celebrate with me! I’m around the corner from your moms at Sparks. A quick drink? Please?”

  I read the message twice more and continued to stare at the screen. Mom Missy asked, “Is everything okay? There’s not something wrong with Tate, is there?”

  I shook my head. “No, this is from Hamish.”

  “Oh, he’s the charming man who’s investing in your business,” said Mom Tina.

  I nodded although I didn’t think “charming” was the best adjective to describe Hamish. “Ambitious, persistent, and pushy” all seemed more appropriate to me.

  “Yes, that’s him. He says that he’s found another investor, and he wants me to join him for a brief celebration.”

  Mom Tina waved a hand. “Go right ahead. It’s getting late for us. I don’t think we can stay up through another movie. Right, Missy?”

  “Well, I’m not quite ready to go to sleep, but we could retire to the bedroom.”

  Even in the dimly lit living room, I could see the eyes of my two moms sparkling when they talked about bedtime. They would probably be happy to have me out of the apartment for a couple of hours. I hoped that Tate and I would someday be like them.

  I said, “He suggested just one drink, and he’s around the corner. He’s at Sparks. They do make great cocktails.”

  “Oh, now I’m a little jealous,” said Mom Tina. “Sparks is a wonderful bar. They have those nice booths to slip in and cuddle together with one of those tasty cocktails, but I’m far too bushed to go out. If you see that sweet little bartender, Gayle, say hi for us.”

  “Will do.” I headed for the coat closet to pull out a light jacket. Before putting it on, I checked the phone once more. I wondered whether I should send a message to Tate about going out, but I suspected that he was fully occupied with dancing at Sagebrush, or he would have sent something to me.

  It was a chilly late summer evening, and I stuck my hands in my jacket pockets as I strolled the short block and a half from the apartment building entrance to Sparks. A small group hung out near the entrance laughing and slapping each other on the back. It was one of my favorite bars in the city, but I didn’t go there often because it wasn’t close to where any of my friends lived. I knew that Hamish was mainly looking for me if he traveled all the way to Sparks.

  As my eyes adjusted to the dim light inside the building, I spotted Hamish passing a few bills across the long, hand-carved bar in exchange for what looked like an old-fashioned. I preferred a martini with just a blush of cranberry.

  “Simon!” shouted Hamish. He raised his glass into the air.

  Judging by the volume of his voice, I suspected that it wasn’t his first drink. He could have been on at least the third.

  As I stepped up close, he asked, “So what are you drinking?”

  I ordered the martini, and when it arrived, I tried to pay the bartender, but Hamish waved my money away. I said, “I can handle it.”

  “No, no. I’m covering the celebration for tonight.” As he passed a few more bills across the bar, he suggested, “Let’s find ourselves a little table in the back. I’ve got news! Good news! The best news! Every fucking kind of news!”

  I laughed. Yes, he’d had a few, but I couldn’t help smiling seeing Hamish in such a good mood. Too often, during the day he had a bone to pick with someone and his mood bordered on surly.

/>   As we settled at a small round table, I watched Hamish take a sip of the old-fashioned. The bartender mixed my martini perfectly. I had to exercise restraint to avoid gulping it down instead of sipping with a sense of decorum.

  “So, you found another investor? That’s exciting. Did you explain that I’m just getting ready to open my own office? I want my investors to know the details. Full disclosure is my motto.”

  Hamish grinned and reached out patting my cheek with his long, slim fingers. “I explained it all, and they want to toss in a nice, sizable sum. I told them it was a nearly guaranteed bet to earn a pleasing profit. They’re ready with a big check.”

  A shiver raced up my spine. I was reasonably confident that my business would be in the black beyond my own salary, but it might take two or three years. I asked, “Did you give him a timetable? And who is it?”

  “Let’s have a toast.” Hamish raised his rocks glass, and, with a slight hesitation, I met it with my martini. He said, “I promised not to share all of the details until the two of you could meet in person.”

  “And when does that happen?” I watched as Hamish downed what seemed like nearly half of his drink in one swallow.

  As he licked his lips, Hamish said, “Well, it won’t happen tonight. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost say my brilliant designer is skeptical. Maybe you need a second drink.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say. I was skeptical, but I was wary of sharing my suspicions with a drunk man. Then it happened. I didn’t see it coming. In retrospect, taking all of the available information together, maybe I should have expected it.

  Hamish put his glass down, and he leaned close to me. The distance was so small between us that I could smell the distinctive odor of the brandy on his breath above the odors drifting through the rest of the bar. I blinked, but I didn’t move.