Page 60 of A Cowboy Of Her Own

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Priscilla took a seat at her desk and reached for the magazine. She hadn’t had a chance to look at it because Earl had her doing all types of crap jobs around the office. She flipped through it until she came to the article. She had titled it,The Life of a Bull Rider.She ran her finger along the words until she came to Jaxon’s name. She gasped in horror drawing the attention of some of her friends.

Oh. My. God!She looked at Earl’s door, which was shut, and knew he had done it. She stood up so quickly that her chair rolled back and hit thedesk behind her then she stormed to Earl’s office, opened the door without knocking, and shoved it making it slam into the wall behind it. Earl looked up and scowled.

“I’m in a meeting,” he said as he came to his feet.

“I don’t care. How dare you change my article,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Get out, Andrew,” he said without taking his eyes from her.

Andrew walked past her and she pushed the door closed behind him, strode to Earl’s desk, placed her hands on it, and glared at him. “You had no right.”

“I have every right. I’m the editor in chief here and it lacked substance.”

“I’m talking about putting the private information in there about Jaxon. That was off the record and just exactlyhowdid you get it?”

“I’m the editor in chief, like I said. I have access to everyone’s computer. It was in your file containing research notes.”

“Didn’t you even wonder why I’d left it out, if it was in my file?” she shouted.

“No. I just figured you were in a damn big hurry. You have no clue what it’s like to write for a magazine. I polished it up for you. You should be thanking me.”

“Thanking you, for what? You ruined any chance I had with Roark,” she said and quickly blinked back tears.

“My heart bleeds. Just get out. You don’t need to be here any longer. Get your stuff and go.”

“You’re a real piece of work, Earl.” She leaned over the desk and looked him straight in the eye. “Youwillregret this.”

Spinning on her heel, she walked to the door, opened it then walked through and slammed it so hard that she was surprised the glass didn’t break. She walked to her desk, retrieved her purse from the bottom drawer, threw the last of her things into the box she’d been packing with her belongings, picked it up and without saying a word to anyone, she walked out of the offices to head for the elevators.

Once she stepped inside, and the doors closed, she leaned against the wall and slid to the floor as tears rolled down her face. When the doors opened again, she pushed herself up and exited then made what felt like a very long walk outside to her car. Unlocking the door, she set the box on the backseat then climbed into the front. She laid her head against the steering wheel and sobbed. She’d lost him. She’d lost the love of her life.

Pulling her cell phone from her purse, she tried calling Roark but it went straight to voicemail. She knew he wouldn’t answer if he saw the call was from her. She called her mother instead.

“Mom,” her voice cracked when she tried to speak.

“What is it, Cilla? Are you all right?”

“No. Can I come see you?”

“Of course you can, honey. I’ll get some tea ready for us.”

Priscilla almost laughed. Her mother thought tea was the cure all for everything. Driving out of the parking lot, she headed to her mother’s condominium in Santa Cruz. It would take her about forty minutes, but she needed her mom. When she finally pulled into her mother’s spare parking spot, she was on the verge of a full-blownhysterical cry, but pulled herself together, stepped from her car then walked to the door, and rang the bell. It opened almost immediately and the tears broke loose.

“Hi, honey. Oh dear, come in.” Jackie helped her inside and had her take a seat on the sofa. “Here’s your tea.” She handed Priscilla a cup.

Priscilla reached for it but she had to set it back down because her hands were shaking so badly. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

“Sorry for what, honey?” Jackie smoothed Priscilla’s hair in that motherly way that always seemed to soothe everything from bruised knees to being sick, but a broken heart was a very different hurt.

“Roark doesn’t want to marry me.”

“What? Why not?”

“Earl changed my article to include some stuff about Jaxon that Roark had told me in confidence.” She told her mother what Roark had told her about Jaxon and how she’d promised not to divulge it.

“But Earl put it in the article? How did he get it?”

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