“A bull’s going to end up killing you. I’m trying to make you see some sense.”
AJ gestured toward Diablo with his thumb. “This guy charges an arm and a leg, and it will take you a good year to get enough funding from grants. If I win, CityBoyz will have enough to get through this year and make it through until the donations start coming in—without sending out those letters.”
“You know I’d never charge The Old Man... I have a required amount of pro bono work to do after all,” Diablo said, pretending to be dry and uninterested when he would gladly lay down his life for The Old Man.
Henry sighed, closed his eyes, and rubbed his temples. The bull whirred.
No one spoke until he said, “Did you tell your ma?”
AJ’s grin faltered, and he looked away. “Not yet.”
Henry’s voice steeled. “No.”
AJ’s grin returned. “It’s a good idea. We might even get some donations coming in faster just by putting the story out. That means money coming in before they even start handing out buckles.”
Henry closed his eyes and sucked in a heavy breath.
AJ held his breath, hoping The Old Man would let him take over some of the weight.
When Henry opened his gray eyes again, they were clear and calm. To Claudio, he said, “Claudio, there’s better things for you to be doing with your time here than this. We haven’t even opened those accounts since your last shift.”
Claudio smiled at The Old Man’s change of heart and tossed the stopwatch to AJ with a look of approval before turning back to Henry. “I’ll be in the office,” he said.
“I’ll walk with you. Looks like we’ll need to pay the web hosting after all...” The two of them left the echoing tin chamber that was the practice gym, and AJ and Diablo were alone.
Once they were out of sight, Diablo nodded toward the bull. “You going to turn that thing off?”
AJ hopped over the rope that pretended to be a fence around a pretend bull, and pressed the big red button. Then he said, “How you been?”
“Good. Phoenix is good. Practicing is good. Making money is really good.”
AJ chuckled, “Sure is. Almost as good as beating a bull.”
Diablo grinned. “Or burying yourself in a woman.”
They clasped hands and pulled each other in for a hug before releasing with a pat on the back. It’d been too long.
“How was South America?”
“Phenomenal.”
“Europe and Asia?”
“I went riding with a duchess in Yorkshire and was proposed to by a breeder in Japan.”
Diablo tipped his black Stetson. “To the buckle bunnies all over the world.”
“Amen, and thank the good Lord.” Warmth spread through AJ’s chest. He had forgotten how good it felt to be in the company of people who knew you back when.
“So when are you going to quit for real?” Diablo asked.
AJ’s eyebrows came together though the smile remained. “What do you mean?”
“Well, if I recall correctly, you’ve spent the first three years of your retirement on a farewell world tour. Now, being back less than four days, you’re finding reasons to sign up for another rodeo. Makes a man wonder how retired you want to be.”
AJ looked away and pushed his hands into his pockets. He balanced his bulk on the cordon rope, adjusting his position against the low tension of the rope.
He wore a backward baseball cap—a PBRA promo hat from seven years ago—and a few days’ worth of stubble.