Page 64 of Riding the Storm
He dives right in. “You need to be in Lawton, Oklahoma, this weekend.”
I blink. “Lawton?”
“Yep. Rodeo event. Dry Canyon Distilling is sponsoring it. They’re making the Bull Rope Whiskey partnership announcement there on Sunday night. Then, on Monday, they want to shoot a commercial and a few print ads while you’re in town.”
I rub the back of my neck. “You mean the whiskey deal actually went through?”
“Sure did. They love the idea, and they understandably want to launch ahead of your transitioning from bull rider to horseman. They want to strike while the iron is hot.”
“And before it goes fucking ice cold,” I mutter.
“Nothing’s going cold, Ry. It’s just the right time. You’re coming off your fifth world championship. Marketing gold, man. You’re the new face for the brand with a sustained equity stake. You could end up with hundreds of millions in your pocket.”
“Lucky me.”
He laughs, unbothered. “Whatever. I know you’re thrilled. You’ve wanted your own whiskey brand for years. So, go pack light and play nice. You’ll be staying through Monday night. I arranged a rental for you so you can drive down and see the folks for a day before catching the return flight from Tulsa.”
Well, shit, that was thoughtful of him. And I do like the thought of seeing Mom and Dad.
“I’ll send over the itinerary—flights, hotel, all that,” he continues in my ear.
I glance out over at the paddocks, the early sun catching on the fence rails. “And what am I supposed to tell my babysitters?”
“You don’t have to tell them anything,” Shawn says smoothly. “Already handled it. Talked to Matty this morning. She said it’s fine.”
That gets my attention. “You called Matty?”
“Sure did. She said someone would give you a ride to the airport in Jackson Hole in the morning.”
“What about Charli? I don’t think she’s gonna be happy about this interruption.”
“Relax, cowboy. You’ll charm ’em again when you get back.”
“Charm isn’t really working for me these days,” I quip.
“No way. Bryce Raintree has finally met a female he can’t get to eat out of his hand? I never thought I’d see the day!”
“Goodbye, Shawn.”
He laughs as I click off the line.
By the time I make it to the barn, I’m already rehearsing what I’ll say to Charli—something professional, calm. Except the sound of voices from Matty’s office stalls me halfway down the aisle. Charli’s voice, sharp and irritated, carries through the half-open door.
“I already have time booked at Parson’s for next week,” she says. “You can’t just spring this on me, Matty. That’s not how training works.”
Parson’s is a ranch in Jackson Hole. Charli told me she was going to arrange for us to use their arena since Wildhaven Storm doesn’t have an on-site bucking chute and gate.
We were supposed to spend time there this past week, but Charli canceled and relegated me to Matty’s office the last three days while she avoided me.
Matty’s voice is quieter, measured. “You’ll have to reschedule, Char. It’s only a week.”
“I already rescheduled with them once.”
“And whose fault was that?” Matty snaps. “Why did you reschedule anyway?”
“It doesn’t matter why. I did it, and I don’t want to do it again.”
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” Matty says.
