Page 24 of The Cowboy and the Bombshell
I had found her really easy to talk to. She loved that we were both from New York, though very different versions of it, and we spent hours discussing our favorite places to hang out, shop, and eat. That was how I wound up telling her about my dad; we had been discussing Central Park, reminiscing over wine about what we missed the most. She said she missed weekend brunch at the Tavern on the Green. I’d never been there, but from the way she described the Eggs Benedict Florentine, it was more than outside my prince range. It was then that I mentioned the Central Park Zoo, my birthday tradition, and the loss of my father.
I didn’t realize until that moment, but I never really talked about my dad to anyone but my mom. People have a strange reaction when you say you lost someone you love; they get uncomfortable. It changes the dynamic of your relationship irrevocably. They suddenly view you as vulnerable, a breakable thing that requires careful handling. I hated the pity in peoples faces when they learn about my father. The distant look in their eyes that tells me they want to leave the conversation, but weren’t sure how to do it without looking like a complete jerk.
Daphne didn’t have that look. She smiled sweetly when I told her my fondest memories and stated that it was high time I got back to the zoo. She insisted that the moment we were both back in New York we would arrange a date and treat each other to our favorite Central Park experiences, brunch at the Tavern and a day at the zoo.
It sounded lovely.
I almost let myself believe it would happen.
But I knew better. Daphne was lovely, but I knew our different lifestyles would separate us once I was done squatting in her father’s guest bedroom. Once I was back east, she would be in her borough and I would stay in mine.
It was probably for the best.
“Any chance you’ll actually start the meeting you called, Miss Lund?” Stone’s dry sarcasm drew me out of my musings. I frowned at him.
“The meeting was between Mr. Young and myself, Mr. Montgomery,” I said, wiping my sweaty palms on my skirt. “If you have something more pressing to attend to, please don’t let me keep you.”
He opened his mouth to say something, eyes flashing with indignation and I braced myself for a cold reply, but a commotion in the hall brought him up short.
“Wait,” I heard Moira’s voice, her tone strained. “You can’t just go in and-” The door burst open in a cloud of glitter and denim. I saw Stone and Carson’s jaws drop wide open, and a smile spread across my face.
“Well, listen here, puddin’ pop,” drawled Dolly in her exaggerated country twang. “I can go any which way I please. Don’t you know who I am?”
“It’s alright, Moira,” I interjected. “She’s with me.” Dolly smiled my way, her bright pink lips stretching wide.
“Hey there, pumpkin pie!” she gushed, her signature giggle filling the conference room. “Don’t you look a treat! Those shoes! They are to die for.” I flushed as Dolly fawned over my magenta pumps. It was the first day I was wearing them. I figured if they were going to work their magic, as my mother and her friends insisted, then today would be the day.
Stone scoffed, his eye roll telling me everything I needed to know about his opinion of my shoes. I shot him a frown, then turned to Carson. “Mr. Young, may I introduce you to Dolly Parton. Dolly, this is Carson Young, entrainment and events manager for Pennington Hotels Las Vegas.” Dolly turned her brilliant smile on Carson, eying him up and down.
“Hi there and hello, sugar. Aren’t you just a cute as a possum on prom night!”
Carson stared open mouthed at Dolly, a bright pink flush creeping up his cheeks, not entirely sure what was going on. Stone’s face was a mixture of confusion and annoyance.
What else was new?
“Dolly,” I said, drawing her attention from Carson and intentionally failing to introduce Stone. “Thank you so much for joining us. If you please,” I gestured to the chair nearest me. Dolly sat, exaggerating every movement like a pin up girl, her extraordinarily long legs looking even longer in the short denim skirt and exceptionally high heeled shoes. She crossed her legs and settled back in the chair, looking every inch a Queen on her throne. I smiled again, then turned back to the two men sitting before me.
“Gentlemen, I have been working with Dolly this week to develop a strategy for the final theater venue here at the hotel.”
Stone immediately cut me off. “That’s not your job, Miss Lund. I believe Mr. Young is in charge of acquiring talent.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from replying in the way I truly wanted, and instead drew in a slow breath before responding to Stone’s unnecessarily sharp remark.
“Yes, Mr. Montgomery, he is. However, after my discussion with him earlier this week, I was made aware that he had not secured an act for the small theater venue as of yet. When a chance encounter brought Dolly and I together, I saw an opportunity and I took it. Mr. Young may be in charge of acquiring talent, but my job is attracting visitors and their dollars. I believe Dolly will do that.”
Carson was now smiling slightly, assessing Dolly from a business perspective and not just as the beautiful spectacle she was.
Stone, on the other hand, continued to scowl. “And how do you expect one drag queen to fill and entire theater? Talented though she may be,” he added, with a nod in Dolly’s direction. She raised one painted eyebrow at him but didn’t respond.
“I don’t expect one talented drag queen to fill an entire theater,” I said, smiling at Dolly. At my nod, she brought her fingers up to her lips and gave a shrill whistle.
“Ladies!” she said, standing again, one hand on her cocked out hip. “Saddle up now, and show these boys what we’re made of.”
Stone and Carson turned to the door of the conference room as a parade of exceptionally beautiful queens entered the room, strutting their gorgeous stuff around the table. There were at least a dozen ladies, some celebrity impersonators, some simply incredible characters, and they were all dressed to the nines.
I crossed my arms as the line of women stood arrayed out behind me. There were women of all shapes and sizes and colors and ethnicities. They wore pants, and dresses, and gowns, and boots and platform shoes. Their hair was sky high and their make up was outrageous.
And I loved everything about them.
