“I like your style,” Clayton murmured in her ear, his voice laced with his crisp English accent.
Before she could react he stepped around her and faced the bartender. “I’ll have a Jack on the rocks, please and thank you.”
Jamie nearly spit out her drink. That voice. He sounded exactly like an Englishman.
“Yes, Mr. Langley,” the bartender said, already pouring. “Coming right up.”
“Mr. Langley,” Jamie muttered under her breath, eyeing her twenty and briefly considering taking it back.
The bartender handed Clayton a generous pour—so generous that half the bar would be wasted before the show even started if he kept serving drinks like that.
Clayton raised his glass. “Cheers, mate.”
“I didn’t know you were British,” the bartender said, impressed. “That’s cool.”
Jamie shook her head, holding back a laugh. She had to admit, his accent was pretty convincing.
“Can you get Ruth over here?” Clayton asked in his regular voice.
“Why?”
“Got a surprise for her.”
“I don’t know where she is.” Jamie rose onto her tiptoes. “Can you see her?”
Clayton scanned the crowd. “Yeah, she’s at the dessert station.”
“Figures,” Jamie said. “She’s got a sweet tooth.”
“Lord, she ain’t but a hundred pounds, if that.”
“I know.” Jamie nodded. “That’s why she’s always chewing gum—it stops her cravings.” She took a sip of her drink. “Should I text her?”
“Please.”
Jamie pulled out her phone and sent Ruth a quick message to meet her at the bar. A few seconds later she appeared, balancing a dinner plate stacked high with desserts.
“What’s up, boss?”
Jamie groaned. “I told you not to call me that—especially in public.”
Clayton moved around to stand behind Ruth, pressing a finger to his lips in a playful hush before wrapping his arms around a redheaded woman who had joined them. Jamie blinked, her brain scrambling to place the familiar face. And then it hit her.
Trying to keep a straight face, she turned to Ruth. “How are you holding up without your dog?”
“I miss Reba,” Ruth mumbled, stuffing her face with a bite of chocolate cake.
“I’m right here,” the redheaded woman said.
Ruth froze mid-chew, then spun around so fast her plate nearly tipped over.
“Reba?” she gasped, clamping a hand over her mouth.
Reba McEntire was standing right in front of her, smiling.
“In the flesh,” Reba said. “Clayton told me you named your dog after me.”
Ruth swallowed hard. “I meant no disrespect, ma’am. I’m from Bixby, and I’m your biggest fan.”
