Page 12 of The Cowboy's Second Chance Bride

Outside the door, the men whispered in heated tones. The doorknob jiggled as if someone had placed their hand on it to open but hesitated—a cue that my time was up. I recapped my marker as I moved away from the desk. As the door opened, I dropped onto the couch, stuffing the marker in my pocket.

The glasses guy entered first and smiled at me. Cal stalked in behind him and, without making eye contact, went to his desk. I watched his every step.

He grabbed the back of his office chair to pull it up to the desk and met my gaze, his expression devoid of emotion. “You need to go.” He was like a broken record.

The glasses guy sighed. “Cal, we need her, and we just agreed out there that you would shut up and let me do the talking, remember?”

I grinned.

Cal plopped into his chair and mumbled. “You agreed. I said nothing.”

My anger ignited like a quickly lit flare. He was knee-deep in trying to save a part of his business but would rather act like this than ask for or accept my help. The nerve. I made sure my smile never wavered.

The glasses guy stared at Cal. “Are you done?”

Cal waved a dismissive hand.

“Good.” He stepped up to me, blocking my view of Cal, and offered his hand. “I apologize. I’m Paul Runyon. I’m the PR exec for Optium. Please don’t stand,” he said as I moved to get up.

I sank back into the couch but took his hand. “Paul Runyon? Did your parents do that on purpose?” A name like that meant he had to have a good sense of humor.

“Yep.”

“Do you still speak to them?”

He looked like a straight-laced guy, but the deep laugh lines around his eyes told me a different story. “They’re schoolteachers. They thought it was clever. And having a name like Paul Runyon gave me lots of early practice with handling PR.”

I chuckled. “I suppose it would. Sabrina Holloway. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Did you write on my desk?” Cal barked from behind Paul.

Paul turned toward Cal, and I once again had a view of him. He was tapping the picture of the donkey.

“I am not a…” His finger slid down to the corner of his desk.

“I didn’t say you were. I said you had a choice to be one or the other. It’s your call.”

His cheeks turned pink. Not going to lie, I found that rewarding.

Paul wandered over to the desk and started to read. He covered his mouth as he tried to disguise a laugh with a cough. “She’s got you there.” He tapped the desk.

Cal looked straight ahead, not making eye contact with anyone. “I am not standoffish.”

“We all tell ourselves lies, Calvin.” I stood and picked up my purse. “Like, I told myself that maybe we could help each other out. But this isn’t going to work.” I focused my attention on Paul. “I can’t help soften someone’s image when there is nothing soft about them.” Then I threw in a zinger for funsies. “Never mind trying to find potential compatible matches.” I moved to the coat-tree to get my jacket.

Cal shot up from his chair. “You’re honestly here to help me date?” He turned to Paul. “You all hired her to match me?”

“Isn’t that what you need a love expert for?” I shrugged.

Paul said, “You know you have to try the app, and if something more were to come of it, then what’s wrong with that?” He shrugged.

I looked at Paul but pointed to Cal. “I’m very good at what I do, but that? I’m not that good. Meeting people and getting to know them is hard. Relaxing around them takes time and willingness.” I shifted my attention to Cal. “Relaxing, for you, is unobtainable.” So long as you have that stick shoved up your ass. “Admit it. You don’t relax often.”

We glared at each other. There was nothing in Cal’s look to indicate we had a past, much less one that could have resulted in a happily ever after. It was hard to believe that the shell of the man before me had been my great love. And how was I supposed to work two weeks with him when we couldn’t do two minutes? My money goal burst in front of me and was whisked away in the wind. I had to get out of there before my façade cracked.

ChapterFive

CAL

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