Page 52 of The Undercover Cowboy

Forcing herself to snap out of it, Dolly’s gaze shifted to the computer screen and its long list of emails, each demanding her full attention. That should be enough of a distraction. Right now, she needed to be the social maven that she had been hired to be. She had a sponsor meeting to prepare for.

As she tried to work, her phone buzzed insistently. She flicked her eyes to the wall of texts that were being sent. Jackson Blevins must be bored in his hospital bed. When she ignored the texts, her phone started to ring. She let it go to voicemail, but the phone rang again, skittering across the laminate surface of her desk.

“Mr. Blevins, I don’t have time for this right now. I have a potential sponsor coming in any minute.”

His voice oozed through the speaker, as smooth and noxious as an oil slick. “When you’re finished with them, you need to come to my hospital room.”

“Why?” Dolly asked, leaning back in her chair. “I’m sure Debbi can help you with whatever you need.”

“Debbi’s not you. I need your…special touch in a private matter.”

Oh ugh. Dolly made a face. Bile rose in her throat at the innuendo lacing his words. She hoped she was imagining things, but she knew she wasn’t. She wished she could record this conversation for the record. Instead, she just scribbled down notes for the report she and Shelby were working on to present to the board about his inappropriate behaviors.

“I’m not your secretary. If you need something, ask Debbi. I’ve got work to do.” Without waiting for his response, Dolly ended the call and blocked his number for good. She’d dance with the devil when she had to, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to let him lead. Besides, if everything went according to plan, Jackson Blevins might not be CEO for much longer—and she couldn’t wait for that day. She couldn’t afford any more distractions. Not when she needed to nail this sponsorship deal. There was business to attend to and she wasn’t going to let personal matters derail her professional game.

Pocketing her phone, Dolly stood up and went to get a cup of coffee for a distraction from Blevins’s nonsense. On the way to the breakroom, she passed by Debbi who was hurrying back to her desk while “Yes sirring” someone, probably Blevins.

As she waited for her coffee to brew, Dolly rested a hip against the counter and allowed her mind to wander to more pleasant things. Like Nash’s touch that still lingered on her skin, a phantom sensation that sent shivers down her spine. She thought about his calloused hands skimming over her skin, igniting sparks in their wake. She couldn’t wait to feel the rasp of his stubble against her inner thigh. A delicious ache bloomed deep in her core.

And then her phone buzzed again and jolted her out of the nice little fantasy she was building.

“What?” she snapped into the phone.

“Lonestar Leathercraft is here to see you,” the receptionist said.

“Send them up,” Dolly said. And then wondered if the men who beat up Blevins had snuck into the building or if Jackson had authorized them to come up. Guess she’d have to wait until she spoke to Nash and see if he had seen the surveillance tapes or if he could use his former ties at the FBI to get a copy of them.

Dolly headed to the elevator bank so she could greet Martha Simmons from Lonestar Leathercraft right away. They had spoken on the phone and sent texts back and forth, but this would be the first time they met in person.

The elevator doors opened and a well-dressed woman in her mid-fifties held out her hand. “Ms. Keller? I’m Martha. Thank you for taking the time to meet with us.”

Us?

Any words she had died in her throat as a familiar figure stepped out from behind Martha. Tall and lean, with salt-and-pepper hair and knowing brown eyes, Jefferson Laker looked every inch the successful businessman.

And the last person Dolly expected to see in her office.

Dolly numbly shook Martha’s offered hand.

“I wanted to introduce you to our partial owner, Jefferson Laker.”

“Hello,” Dolly managed.

“Ms. Keller,” Jefferson said with a small nod.

Her mind raced through scenarios, each one ending with her secret laid bare before the unforgiving UPRC rodeo community.

She forced a smile. “Can I get you two any coffee?”

“No, we’re on a tight schedule,” Jefferson said.

Martha nodded apologetically.

“Well, let’s get down to business then,” Dolly said, and gestured them toward her office. Was this just a coincidence? Or had Jefferson known that she was working on this deal? He had been a decent man all those years ago; she shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions about his intentions. And yet, her experienceswith Jackson Blevins had colored her expectations about rich men’s behaviors.

Chapter Sixteen

Dolly

---