Besides, riding in the Wild West Show was going to keep her busy enough. So she probably ought to tell Larry to forget it, to go find his local gal somewhere else since most of the townsfolk would be opposed to one of their own having anything to do with Cowboy Country USA.
It was just that she’d never liked people telling her what she should or shouldn’t try out for. It only made her more determined to give it her best shot.
“Miss Rogers!” Larry called out. “It’s good to see you. I was afraid you might not make it. Come and meet GiGi LaSalle, the choreographer. She’ll work with you for twenty minutes, then we’ll see how quickly you catch on. It’s all very simple.”
Yeah, right. She smiled and greeted GiGi, a tall, slender woman in her early thirties. “I...uh...brought a costume. Should I put it on?”
“By all means.” Larry pointed toward the rear exit. “The ladies’ room is down there.”
Amber knew exactly where it was. She’d been coming to the Grange Hall for wedding receptions, family reunions and pancake breakfasts sponsored by the volunteer fire department since she was a kid.
“I’ll be right back,” she told him.
Moments later, she stood before the mirror, all decked out in the red-satin-and-black-lace ensemble Gram had created, her shoulders bare, her breasts more prominently displayed than she was used to. She tugged at the fabric, hoping to cover up a bit of the swell, to no avail.
She supposed the costume wasn’t all that revealing, at least, by some people’s standards. But while a lot of women liked showing off their wares, she usually kept her blouses buttoned nearly to the neck—other than that top she’d worn to Smokey Joe’s. The one that Jensen seemed to think had caused every cowboy in the place to gawk at her.
Just the thought of his jealousy drew a smile to her lips, and she cocked her head to the side, assessing herself in a way she never had before.
Dressed in denim and cotton, she’d always thought of herself as just one of the cowboys—only a bit on the feminine side. But in red satin and lace, with every curve blatantly exposed one way or another, there was no doubt she was a female through and through—and pretty darn sexy, if she did say so herself.
“Miss Rogers?” Larry called out. “We don’t have all day. I have other dancers coming in to audition—and we need to be out of here by six o’clock. The mayor’s daughter is having her wedding rehearsal here tonight.”
Amber quit her preening and exited the restroom, carrying her folded street clothes and boots with her.
“Oh, wow,” Larry said. “I knew it. You were a natural.”
She tugged at her neckline. “No, I’m not. I’ve never had a dance lesson in my life—other than this one.”
“You’re a natural in that costume. Who’ll care if you flub up? Everyone will be watching you in that dress.” He glanced at GiGi. “Don’t you agree?”
“She definitely has potential, in a Podunk rodeo queen sort of style.”
Who was GiGi calling Podunk?
She nearly objected when GiGi reached out and grasped a lock of her hair. “Do you mind?”
“Mind what?”
“If I just improve on what you’re working with here. Larry, give me five minutes and be prepared to be wowed.”
Amber sighed and gave a little shrug. Gram used to try to dress her up for Sunday school, especially at Easter and Christmas. But Amber usually threw such a fit, the poor woman gave up.
Doggone it, Gram had once said, if the Good Lord knew how hard it was to get you ready to go to church, young lady, He’d tell me to stay home.
GiGi walked to the corner of the room, where she had a multidrawer case of some kind. She brought it back and opened it up, revealing a wide display of makeup and things a Hollywood hairstylist might need.
A few minutes later, she’d whipped out some blush, lipstick, eye shadow and mascara and made quick work of applying it to Amber’s face. Next, she teased Amber’s hair to new heights, then whipped it into a twist or topknot of some kind. “Now go take a look at yourself and tell me what you think.”
She thought GiGi and Larry were a couple of over-the-top wannabe stage parents, but she kept her thoughts to herself and returned to the ladies’ room. When she glanced into the floor-length mirror, her breath caught.
Wowzer. She looked va-va-voom sexy now. Mae West could eat her heart out. But more to the point, what would Jensen say if he saw her in it?
It was sure to turn his blue blood raging red-hot.
Of course, she didn’t look as if she was in the twenty-first century anymore—or in Horseback Hollow, for that matter. But the look Larry and GiGi had been going for was definitely accomplished.
She almost hurried to the corner where she’d left her belongings so she could grab her cell phone out of her purse and take a selfie to show Gram, but she didn’t want to come across as a complete country bumpkin.
Oh, well.
For the next twenty minutes, GiGi showed her some moves. She wasn’t a complete klutz, and while it took her some time to get it right, she finally caught on and had a few laughs in the process.
After the audition, Larry explained the idea behind Madame LaRue’s Lone Star Review. “We’ll have someone play the piano, there’ll be a comedian, some actors will do a shoot ’em up at the bar. It’ll be a nightly dinner show—and a real addition to Cowboy Country USA.”
“I’m already committed to ride in the Wild West Show,” Amber said. “My attorney looked over the contract, and I signed on. As fun as it could be, I still run a working ranch. And while I followed through on the audition because I told you I would, I won’t have time to be involved in two productions. So you’re going to have to find another cancan dancer.”
“All right, I understand. But speaking of attorneys...” Larry looked at the young assistant sitting on the folding metal chair and taking notes. “Remind me to talk to the suits about making an addendum to Miss Rogers’s contract...”
“Why would you do that?” Amber asked.
“After what we’ve seen today, we’re gonna need to add a clause about you being our local PR gal. As far as the dinner show goes, we’ll have plenty of saloon girls to perform, but since we plan on having you as the face on the posters, we’ll need you to make some appearances.”
“I’m not sure I even want to do one appearance.” She glanced at her wristwatch. “Listen, I need to take off.”
“No problem. We have the next auditioner in the ladies’ room. Thanks so much for coming. We’ll have our photographer get in touch with you for the upcoming publicity shoot.”
“Like I said, we’ll need to talk about that later.” Amber still only planned to commit to the Wild West Show, although she actually liked the idea of having her photo in the ad, especially dressed in costume.
She
