“You should run that by Wynter for a marketing slogan.”
He grinned. “Somehow, I don’t think that will sell.”
My brain was already in post mode, thinking of fun sayings and images I could get for it.
A family company means we’re in everyone’s business.
We’re in everyone’s business and in everyone’s glass.
Want this family inyourbusiness? That could go with an image of any of them.
None of that would happen of course, and neither would helping Flatlanders Prohibited. “I texted Madison to let her know where I worked”—that my name was Ruby and not Rue—“but that I would love to help her with the general stuff. There’d be no conflict of interest. She said thanks, but no, thanks.”
Teller shook his head. “She’s as bad as her brother.”
“She was professional about it.”
“The Townsends shun Baileys and good opportunities.”
The conflict seemed to go back farther than when Teller’s ex had run off with Scooter. Either way, it wasn’t my business.
We walked out of the bar and locked up. Teller waited for me to get into my car and drive away before he left.
The trip to Tenor’s was dark, but I’d traveled the roads enough that I was comfortable.
The light in the living room was on. Excitement rose in my belly. Was he home?
Just as I parked in the empty garage, my phone dinged.
Tenor: There’s food in the fridge. Help yourself. I’m going to be late.
I stared at the message before stuffing my disappointment down and sending backOk.
I gathered my things and went inside. His place was quiet. Peaceful. Still beautiful, and with his bookshelves and his painting supplies spread across the table, it was homier than the first time I’d stayed.
My phone buzzed again. A thrill twirled in my stomach as I dumped my suitcase in the guest room and dug my phone out of my purse.
Dad: Hey, Rubes. You around?
Me: Are you in Bozeman?
Dad: Will be. Want to meet for a match?
I grimaced. He picked up tennis when he needed to network beyond glossing over his glory days of football, but he was still an obnoxious jock at heart. He made a casual game of tennis into a cutthroat competition. He’d taught me to play on my weekends with him, and he’d urged me to join the high school team. Torture sounded a lot like practicing after school for hours, not to mention how Dad would scream at the sidelines. I hadn’t wanted to experience him getting removed from a tennis game. We still had father-daughter matches, but at least I could limit his shit talk to just us.
Me: Sorry, I’m out of town this weekend and next. Another time?
Dad: Soon. I’ve got another meeting lined up.
Me: Can’t wait.
I looked around the empty cabin. On the plus side, by the time I met up with Dad, I wouldn’t have to hide from him that I was seeing someone from his old hometown. This arrangement would be over by then.
Tenor
I had missed Ruby all damn week. I’d missed her last night. I was missing her this morning.
I finished at the ranch. I could hang out all day, but the other guys had everything covered. Mama had made muffins and here I was, rushing home with them.
