Page 26 of Opposites (Never) Attract
“I wanted to make partner at the firm before even considering a family. Only now, it’s been over a year…”
I lifted my thumb to my lips, biting down on the sliver of nail I had left before I could catch myself. Nail biting was a horrible habit that I’d broken for years with bio-gel nails and regular appointments with Uma, my nail technician. But things had been so busy lately, the nails had popped off a week ago and I hadn’t had a chance to go back.
I gripped my wrist with my right hand and forced it to stay in my lap.
“A year?” he prompted.
“They keep saying the partnership is coming. That I have to be patient.”
“They?” Tag asked.
“The partners. At Berkley and Brothers,” I answered. “All men. I’d be the first woman.”
“So you said. The youngest, too. That’s why they’re dragging their feet?” he asked.
“Yes and no. I don’t think it’s because I’m a woman necessarily. I think it’s because-”
“You’re smarter than them. And they know it.”
I opened my mouth and closed it. “These men have made millions on behalf of their clients,” I said, as if defending them. “They’re all very smart.”
“I’m sure they are. Doesn’t mean what I said isn’t true.”
“Tag,” I said, as if explaining a new concept. “Being the smartest kid in the Gulch isn’t saying much in a town our size.”
“Smart is smart, Sunshine. Doesn’t matter if it’s inWyoming or New York City. You intimidate people. You always have.”
He wasn’t wrong. But of all the people Ishouldn’tintimidate, it was the partners at Berkley. They should be delighted by my intelligence. Thrilled, even. But it was almost as if they didn’t trust it.
At first, I thought their hesitation was due to my age. I refused to believe it was my sex. But as the months kept passing without making partner, I had to wonder if the reason was maybe both.
“Hey, you know that’s on them though, right? You’re not the problem. That big brain of yours is not the problem. It’s their insecurity. They’re the problem.”
“Tag?” I said. “Are you a feminist cowboy?”
He slumped back down into his chair. “Card-carrying,” he said, and he popped his hat back over his face like this conversation was over.
Maybe it was because he wasn’t looking at me, or because I’d talked my way into the center of all my fears, but I found myself asking the question I didn’t know how to answer. And nothing bothered me more than a question I didn’t know how to answer.
“What if I can’t save the Swinging D?”
“You’ll save it,” he said, from under his black cowboy hat. Again, as if it were fact. As if by speaking it into existence, Tag Durham could make it so.
I watched him without him realizing it. I admired the length of his jean-covered legs that filled up the space in front of him. His heavy thighs manspreading all over the luxury leather seat.
Suddenly, and without warning, I imagined him telling me, hat still covering his face, to get down on my knees in front of him. Between those thick thighs. He’d tell me tounbuckle his belt, reach inside his button fly jeans, stroke him until he got hard. Bend over and…
“Sunshine?”
My name startled me out of the fantasy. He couldn’t know what I was thinking. He couldn’t see how flushed I was. He couldn’t feel my body heat across a foot of aisle.
Could he?
“Yes?” I croaked.
“You’ll let me know when we’re getting close to home?”
“You bet.”
