I know what working in an office is going to mean. I get that I’m going to have to clean up my language and maybe even learn to wear a damn dress now and then. And I’m ready for that.”
He kept on looking at her. Studying her, really. What the hell was he thinking?
She threw out both arms again, glanced left and then right—and then directly at him again. “What?” she demanded.
He swung his boots up onto the molded plastic chair next to his. Way too casually, he suggested, “So, Sam. Want to come to my parents’ wedding?”
Okay, now she was totally lost. “Your parents’ wedding? Didn’t that already happen? Y’know like, oh, a hundred years ago? Travis, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
One corner of his mouth quirked up. “Well, okay. Technically, it’s a reaffirmation of their wedding vows. It’s happening out at Bravo Ridge.” He’d spoken of Bravo Ridge often. It was his family’s ranch near San Antonio. “It’ll be on Thanksgiving Day.”
She sat back and folded her arms across her middle. She’d always wondered about his family, the high-class, powerful San Antonio Bravos. It would be interesting to meet them all, to match the real, flesh-and-blood people to the faces in the pictures Travis had shown her over the years.
Then again, maybe not. “I don’t think so….”
“Come on. Why not?”
“Well, to be honest, from everything you’ve said about your family, I don’t think I’d fit in with them.”
“Sure you will.”
“I don’t even have the clothes for something like that, let alone the manners. And I don’t have any fancy pedigree, either. I’d probably embarrass you.”
“You could never embarrass me. You’re the best. And what do you mean, pedigree? It’s America. We’re all equal, remember? And if you’re nervous about your clothes, I’ll deal with that.”
She looked at him sideways. “How, exactly are you going deal with my clothes?”
“I’ll buy you some new ones.”
“No way. I buy my own stuff. But even if I maxed out my credit cards getting a whole new wardrobe, well, I still wouldn’t know which frickin’ fork to use.”
He swung his feet to the floor and canted toward her in the chair. “So we’ll get you a coach. A few days in Houston beforehand should do it.”
“Um. Travis, I’m not really understanding what exactly you’re up to here.”
“I just said. You’ll have time. A whole week to get ready after you’re back on land, plenty of time to buy the clothes and work with the coach.”
“The coach,” she repeated blankly.
“Yeah, the coach. Someone who’s an expert on all that stuff—on the clothes, the makeup, the…use of the silverware, whatever. By the time you meet my mom, you’ll be more than ready.”
“More than ready for…?”
“Everything.” He smiled. It wasn’t a very sincere smile.
She rubbed her temples with the tips of her fingers. Really, he was making her head spin. “Travis, cut the crap. What exactly are you trying to talk me into?”
He glanced away, and then back. “Before I get too specific, I just want to know you’ll keep an open mind about the whole thing, okay?”
“Yeah, well. Before I can keep an open mind, I need to know what I’m supposed to be keeping an open mind about.”
He hoisted his feet back up on the chair again. “It’s like this. I want you to help me get my mom off my back.”
She followed. Kind of. “You mean about all the, er, suitable young women, right?”
He nodded. “I need you to be my date—for a week, including Thanksgiving.”
“You think if you bring a date, your mom will stop trying to fix you up?”
He pulled a face and scratched the back of his head. “Well, yeah. For a while. If my date was…more than just a date.”
“What do you mean, more than just a frickin’ date?”
“Okay, it’s like this. I want you to pretend that you’re my fiancée.”
Travis didn’t find the look on Sam’s face the least bit encouraging.
She swore. Colorfully. And then she jumped up from the chair, strode around the table to him—and slapped him upside the back of the head.
He shoved her hand away. “Ouch! Knock it off.”
She gave a disgusted snort. “Have you lost your mind?”
He put up both hands to back her off. “Look. It just…slipped out when I was talking to her, okay?”
“It? What?”
“She was all over me, pressuring me, going down the list of all the women she wants me to meet. And then you came down from the deck and I, well, all of a sudden, I was saying I already had a girl. I said you were my girl and we were engaged.”
Sam did more swearing. And then she returned to her chair, grabbed the back of it, spun it around and sat down in it front ways that time. “What have you been smoking?”
“Not a thing. You know that. And can you just think it over? Please? Don’t say no without giving it some serious consideration. You get the coach and the clothes to help you change up your life. And I have a few strings I can pull, too, for you. To make sure you get the job you want.”
She had her arms folded good and tight across her middle by then. “There’s just one teensy problem.”
“What?”
“It’s a big wonkin’ lie.”
“I know that, but it can’t be helped.”
“Sure, it can. Call your mom back. Tell her you lied and I’m not your girl after all. And when you want a girl, you’ll find her yourself.”
“Sam, come on…”
She pressed her lips together, blew out a breath—and flipped him the bird.
But he refused to give up. The more he thought about it, the more this looked like a solution to his problem.
A temporary solution, yeah. But still. Even temporary was better than no solution at all.
“Look,” he said. “You do this for me, I figure it’s good for up to a year of peace and quiet on my mother’s part.”
“Why don’t you just talk to your mother? Tell her how you feel, tell her you want her to back off and mind her own business.”
“You
