The Cowboy's Promise

by Macie St James

  Her pretty lips upturned in a smile. “Well, I’m impressed. I’m pretty sure you could run my boss’s business far better than he does.”

  “I put in time in an office. It wasn’t for me. I pretty much lived for lunch so I could get some fresh air. The idea of being cooped up inside all day gives me the creeps.” He practically shuddered at the thought.

  Hopefully, she was getting the message at this point. It would save both of them some time and trouble if she’d drop the whole thing about buying his property. He just didn’t want her to leave early.

  I don’t want her to leave early.

  The words stuck with him as he headed toward his house. Maybe it was because he’d been living alone too long, but he didn’t think so. The more time he spent with Harley, the more he found himself dreading the moment she’d drive out of his life.

  9

  Harley was sure she’d have a message from Jared when she checked her phone. In fact, she’d put off checking it as long as she could for that very reason. If she didn’t see it, she couldn’t say she had to move to the rental for the night, right?

  There were no messages from him, though. Which actually made her worry about him. She noticed Clay hadn’t brought it up, though, which must mean he wasn’t worried. Maybe he knew something she didn’t know about Jared’s time overseas. For all she knew, he could be working in an operations center, far, far away from any action.

  Since there were no messages that needed her immediate attention, Harley rested for a while after the tour. Clay had left to do some work, giving her the perfect opportunity to slip in a phone call. Even though he wasn’t around, she still stepped outside to make her call, just in case he suddenly returned.

  “Jenkins!” her boss called out in his booming voice. He was always shouting into his phone when he was in the car. He seemed to think he had to yell to be heard.

  “Hi, Mr. Cutler,” Harley said.

  “You on your way back yet?” he said. “Give me some good news.”

  Harley winced. She’d feared this was how the conversation would go. Mr. Cutler was the type who didn’t take “no” for an answer. If he were here, he’d have pushed Clay to sign those papers the first night.

  Actually, she was pretty sure that wasn’t true. If Mr. Cutler were here, he and Clay would probably have already come to blows. Clay wasn’t the type to be pushed around and Mr. Cutler wasn’t the type to not push, so sending Harley had been a great idea.

  “The property isn’t for sale,” Harley admitted. “Your information was faulty.”

  “What do you mean, it isn’t for sale?” Mr. Cutler hollered. “Of course, it is. I’ll send you a printout of the page from the database.”

  Harley shrugged even though he couldn’t see her. “I don’t know what to tell you. The owners left their son in charge and he says it’s not for sale. His parents want it to remain a working ranch, and he and his brothers each have a house here. There’s no way to sell the property if they refuse to give it over to us.”

  “What did I tell you about language like that?” Mr. Cutler asked. “No way? Those aren’t the words of a closer. Closers say there’s always a way.”

  “I’m working on it,” Harley said, trying not to lose her patience. Her financial survival depended on this job, she reminded herself. “But there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

  “You have four minutes. That’s when my GPS says I’ll arrive at my meeting. Talk fast.”

  Harley took a deep breath and prepared to plunge in. She probably should have taken the time to write out her pitch, maybe rehearsed it a little. This felt like far too much pressure. But the longer she took to get started, the less time she’d have. So she just started talking and hoped for the best.

  “The owner’s son says they won’t sell. But I have a great idea. They don’t even know what they have here, and I think a good investor could come in and get some money rolling in. I see potential for a dude ranch, a pumpkin patch and hayrides in the fall, and even an event venue. They have this beautiful barn—”

  “Great,” Mr. Cutler interrupted. “But they don’t need an investor to do most of that. You tell them all that, and they’ll just get it started on their own.”

  “They need money to renovate the barn. And advertising for any events they have. They aren’t exactly what you’d call businesspeople.”

  That was a lie, actually. If anything, they could teach her a thing or two about running a business, even though their ranch wasn’t doing well. Besides, Clay’s brothers each had careers outside of the ranch, and Clay had one before he moved back home. The more she thought about it, the more she realized if Mr. Cutler pushed the argument, she wouldn’t have a good rebuttal.

  “I’m not sure you’re following me here,” Mr. Cutler said sharply. “I’m. Not. Interested. I want to buy the land and either sell it off in parcels or hand it over to a developer at a profit. If you can’t make that happen, we’re going to have to renegotiate the terms of your employment agreement. Now, your four minutes are up, so we’ll just have to continue this conversation later. Call me when you’re on the way back with signed contracts.”

  Harley’s mouth was still open, ready to interject her own arguments into what he was saying. He didn’t give her a chance to agree. He was off the line before she could even fully process what he’d said.

  Sighing, she pocketed her phone and turned to look at the house. Clay’s house. It was easy for her boss, sitting in his meeting in Seattle, far away from here. He didn’t know the people he would be uprooting even if she could talk them into selling. This was Clay’s home. He didn’t want to watch it turn into a residential development, no matter how much money it put into his bank account.

  But that wasn’t her problem. As much as Clay’s situation pulled her heartstrings, the truth was, her job depended on landing this deal. Her boss had just said exactly that. She was waiting for her next paycheck just to pay this month’s rent. If she lost her job, she wouldn’t have money for next month’s rent, which would put her out on the street.

  Before she could make her way back to the house, she heard the crunch of tires on gravel. Clay was returning. She knew it probably looked odd, her standing in the middle of his driveway in her coat, so she started back toward the porch.

  “Everything okay?”

  Clay had pulled up, window down, and stopped when he was in line with the porch. She couldn’t tell if he was genuinely concerned, but the fact that he’d stopped everything made her feel like maybe concern was exactly what she’d see in his eyes. Too bad he was wearing those dark sunglasses.

  “Fine,” she said, forcing a smile back to her face. “Just making a phone call.”

  He didn’t need to know she’d had a setback. In fact, he wouldn’t see it as a setback in the first place, and maybe it wasn’t. He’d never agreed to the whole “investor” idea, so why would he care whether she returned to her original plan to just buy the whole place out?

  He rolled up the window, shut off the car, and hopped out, clutching his mug of coffee. She started walking up the steps beside him.

  “My boss is putting the screws to me,” she commented.

  “Excuse me?” he asked, his voice closer to her now.

  She paused, a foot on two different steps, and turned to look down at him. Had that been an unfamiliar term to him?

  “My boss,” she repeated. “He wants the contracts signed or else.”

  Clay’s eyes narrowed. “Or else you’re fired?”

  “Exactly.”

  He frowned. “Did he actually threaten you with that? Sounds like a real piece of work.”

  She sighed. “He is that. If it weren’t for, you know, the paycheck and stuff, I’d be out of there.”

  “You don’t need that job,” he said. “Any company would be lucky to have you. In fact, why don’t you just start your own business? You know the ropes. May as well make yourself rich rather than work your butt off for someone else.”

&
nbsp; Harley laughed. “Oh yes, if only it were that easy. Do you know how many startups fail?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t either,” she said. “But many more fail than succeed.”

  “Even if it’s one out of one thousand, yours would be the one that would make it. I can see that in you.” He passed her on the steps, reaching the front door first, presumably so he could open it for her. He gestured for her to enter.

  “Thank you,” she said as she traveled the remainder of the distance to his front door. “I think that may be the biggest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

  Clay closed the door behind them, shutting out the chilly air. “I could help you identify some great land around here that actually is for sale. Nothing this close to the interstate, of course, but there’s some farmland the next town over.”

  “My boss researched the entire country. Yours was at the top of his list.” She stopped and turned to look at him. “That means you can probably name your price.”

  They were standing in his living room now, just staring at each other. For the first time since last night, Harley felt a little tiny glimmer of hope that she could sell him on this idea and save her job.

  “Just how much do you think this property’s worth?” he asked.

  She considered that a moment. “We’re talking seven figures. Life-changing money.”

  “And your boss will flip it for double that, probably.”

  “Ideally,” she said. “But he’ll take less of a profit than the ideal if it means making some money. That’s just how he is.”

  Clay crossed his arms across his wide chest, and she forced herself not to stare. “So why wouldn’t I just sell it myself? My brother’s in real estate. It makes no sense that we’d sell it to some dude with a bank account in Seattle for less than we could make ourselves.”

  “Easy. My boss has this whole process down. He hands you the money and he takes it from there. He’ll give you the time you need to move out and you can just focus on finding a new place to live without all the stress of lining up a buyer. It’s a win for everyone.”

  But she wasn’t as sure of herself as she was trying to sound. Honestly, her boss did get a heck of a lot more out of this than someone like Clay. She’d only worked for him six months but in that time, she’d watched him make sale after sale, mostly succeeding because of his ability to spin tales to people like Clay. She’d helped with a few, but she’d never encountered a reluctant buyer before. Most of their buyers were excited to hear her offer, probably because Mr. Cutler had prequalified them first. In other words, he’d only sent her on jobs where he knew the property owners were likely to jump on the opportunity.

  Until now.

  He walked around her to the kitchen, leaving her to follow. “What do you get out of it? Aside from keeping your job.”

  He’d made a beeline for the coffeepot, she noticed as she entered the kitchen. Although the pot had shut off at some point, it didn’t stop Clay from filling up his mug, which he then took to the microwave for a warm-up.

  She leaned against the doorframe as she watched him at the microwave. “It’s my career. I’m learning the ropes. Someday I’ll be able to move into my boss’s position, either with him or another company, or maybe I’ll do event management. I could see myself running my own wedding planning business at some point.”

  Those were thoughts she hadn’t shared with anyone until now. She’d never even spoken them out loud. They were the dreams she’d had in college. Unfortunately, the reality had been that she’d had a tough time finding a salaried position as an event planner after graduation. And the average salary wasn’t enough to pay the extra-high rent in the big city anyway. If she wanted to make money doing it, she needed to open her own business, and that was too risky.

  “Why ‘at some point?’” Clay asked as he waited for the microwave to finish.

  Harley pulled back one of the barstools at his counter and climbed onto it. “You can’t just run a business with no experience. After college, I worked as a server for a year while I scrambled to find work. I lucked into this position, and Mr. Cutler doesn’t let me forget he gave me a chance.”

  The microwave beeped, but Clay didn’t move to open the door. He was staring at her, a horrified expression marring his handsome features.

  “Mr. Cutler is your boss, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t like this guy and his threats,” he said. “Now I’m ready to track him down and tell him what he can do with his offer.”

  Uh-oh. Turning him against her boss was the last thing she needed to be doing right now. They were heading away from a place where he’d trust her company to take over this land, not toward it, as they should be.

  She rushed to correct his assumptions. “He’s not a bad guy. Just very…driven. And I’m pretty sure I get a bonus if I make the sale, so it’s not like I don’t get something out of it.”

  Clay set his coffee mug on the counter and stood across from her, still staring at her. Why was it so unsettling when he did that? Her heart kept getting all fluttery every time their eyes locked.

  “Pretty sure?” he asked. “What does that mean?”

  “He hinted that he’d be very appreciative if I brought this deal home,” she said with a shrug. “I assume that means a bonus.”

  “I get the feeling assumptions aren’t a good idea with this guy,” Clay said. “I’ve met the type. I worked for the type.”

  Now he really had her attention. “Before you came back to the ranch?”

  “Yep. I spent my time in Chicago working as a bill collector,” he said. “Plan was to move back home eventually and start my own business, but things didn’t quite work out that way.”

  She had so many questions she wanted to ask, but she didn’t want to come across as nosy. It could be something he didn’t want to talk about, for all she knew. She decided to just remain silent and see if he was willing to share more on his own.

  He hesitated, looking torn. “That woman I mentioned. We almost got engaged.”

  Almost engaged? She frowned, trying to wrap her head around what that meant. He’d gotten down on one knee, ring in hand, and asked her to marry him and she’d declined?

  “I had the ring picked out and everything,” he said, answering Harley’s unspoken question. “Just a few days before, she said she didn’t think I was the right fit for her life. Like she was picking out furniture for her apartment or something.”

  Harley winced. That was rough. She’d been dumped in her time, sure, and she’d broken a couple of hearts along the way. She was pretty sure everyone had a little bit of both scenarios in their past. But the least someone could hope for was that if a significant other was going to end things, it would be with grace, not with the type of cold-heartedness Clay was describing.

  “Turned out, all those late nights she’d been working hadn’t just been business,” he said, staring down at his mug. “I’d even met the guy. He was one of the partners.”

  “So sorry,” Harley was at a loss for what else to say.

  Clay shook his head. “Just shows you that you don’t really ever know anyone. You can open your heart, but there are never any guarantees.”

  “It’s her loss,” Harley said. “You’re a great catch.”

  Their gazes locked again, and she had to battle that pesky all-over tingle again. Would his stare ever not have that effect on her? Thank goodness she was leaving tomorrow so she’d never have to find out.

  Clay smiled ruefully. “She did me a favor by cheating on me. She never wanted to live anywhere but Chicago. Eventually, I would have wanted to come back home. I was too in love to see what was staring me in the face.”

  A new, unexpected feeling hit Harley then. Jealousy. Which was weird, considering she’d just met this guy. How could she be jealous of a relationship that was in his past when she wouldn’t ever see this guy again after tomorrow?

  “But my point was, I was willing to put up with a sketchy bos
s when it meant paying the bills,” he said. “The safety of a salary and benefits will have you letting a lot of stuff fly. I won’t say I don’t miss that security, but I definitely don’t miss having someone breathing down my neck every day.”

  “The good news is, once I’ve shown I can stand on my own two feet, I think I’ll be free to work independently,” Harley said. “He says he’s just micromanaging while I learn.”

  “You sure about that?” Clay asked, taking a long sip of his coffee while peering over the top of the mug at her.

  No. She wasn’t sure at all. Mr. Cutler wasn’t exactly a micromanager, but he was a bit of a bully. When she didn’t get results quickly enough, he had a habit of waving the threat of termination in front of her.

  “How often has he texted and emailed you since you arrived?” Clay asked.

  She considered that. “Not at all, really. In fact, he seemed annoyed I called. He just wants to see the contracts on his desk by Monday morning.”

  Clay quirked an eyebrow. “Signed, I assume.”

  “Yes. Beyond that, he doesn’t care.”

  He snorted. “Of course, he doesn’t. If you don’t deliver, he plans to fire you. You aren’t an employee. You’re a test. He is paying you a salary and benefits.”

  “No benefits,” she said. “I’m contract to hire.”

  That drew a big wince from Clay. Then, eyes closed, he just shook his head for a while. She didn’t like that reaction.

  “My contract is up at the end of this month,” she said. “That’s why he’s holding my feet to the fire. He has to know his training has paid off.”

  “You don’t even have medical? Dental? Vacation time?”

  “I will once I bring this land to him.”

  She realized then that she didn’t really want to close this deal based on the fact that she needed the job. If he bought in for that reason, she wouldn’t feel good about herself at all.

  “That’s why I plan to close this deal,” she said. “‘No’ isn’t an option.”

  The goal was to paint herself as the cool, confident person she wanted to be rather than the person who was terrified of losing her only means of income. If she came across that way, Clay would go back to considering her request based solely on how it would benefit him, not on the fact that he felt sorry for her.