rubbed his closely shaved jaw and peered at her. “So you really think I’d be better off talking to people as a misplaced Yankee in a suit?”
Erin stood her ground. “Don’t you?”
A contemplative silence fell between them.
“As I’m sure you’ve heard, that hasn’t been working so far,” Mac said ruefully.
People had been polite, Erin knew, but not at all on board with what he was trying to sell.
She squinted. “So your plan is...”
He shrugged. “To do what I always do and try and ‘speak the language’ of whatever region I find myself in. And right now, experience tells me I won’t ever be successful around here unless I can ‘speak Texan.’”
One of the eavesdropping customers hurried on over. “Then you’ll be needing one of these.” She placed a Texas dictionary in his hand. The semihumorous tome was filled with Lone Star State vernacular.
“Thanks.” Mac smiled.
“Maybe a hat,” another woman said eagerly, joining the conversation.
Her shopping buddy agreed. “Something dressy that would go with a suit.”
Erin tried to picture Mac in a Stetson or Resistol, and realized he would be sexy as all get-out in either.
“You can wear boots with a suit, too,” another shopper pointed out.
Mac turned back to Erin. Smiled. Suddenly, at least a few of the locals were on his side. Of course, Erin noted a little irritably, they were all female. And single, at that.
“Or you could pay triple, and get an appointment for custom boots right away, like that country-and-western star who came in last month,” Nicholas interjected as he stepped out from behind the counter.
At that, it was all Erin could do not to groan.
Her brother extended his hand to Mac and they shook. “By the way, I’m head of the environmental club at Laramie High School. We’ve all heard about what you’re doing here...and it sure would be great if we could get you to come and speak about wind farms.”
“I’ll check my calendar and see what I can do,” Mac promised.
A chime sounded as the front door opened, and Erin’s two sons walked in from school.
As usual, eight-year-old Sammy’s clothes were smudged with dirt. A fifth grader, ten-year-old Stevie was much more together.
“Hey, Mom!” they said in unison, stopping to give her a hug before circling around her to drop their backpacks on the shelf behind the sales counter.
Mac smiled at her boys with surprising warmth.
Surprised, because she hadn’t figured the sexy bachelor would want much to do with kids, Erin made introductions. The boys shook hands obediently, then took off to get a snack from the fridge in the break room.
Mac turned back to Erin, his expression resolute. “About that appointment... How about five tomorrow evening?”
“It’ll take at least two hours,” Erin hedged, “and the store closes at six.”
“So we’ll make it four o’clock,” Nicholas interjected practically.
Erin’s jaw dropped. Since when did her brother schedule things for her?
He shrugged at her look.
The tall interloper beamed. “I’d sure appreciate that.”
Erin gave up arguing about it. “It is going to cost you triple for a rush job,” she warned. “Which means the price would likely be closer to twelve thousand dollars for a pair of boots, if you want them by June first.”
So if that seemed utterly ridiculous to him...
To her frustration, it didn’t.
“No problem,” Mac said as he plucked his phone out of his suit jacket, checking the screen. “Sorry. I have to take this,” he murmured, then stepped outside into the May sunshine.
* * *
“A LITTLE HARD ON HIM, weren’t you, sis?” Nicholas asked, the moment Mac Wheeler was out of earshot.
Erin knew she hadn’t been as warm and welcoming as she normally would have been to a customer. Maybe because she was way too attracted to the sexy businessman. And these days, with all she had on her shoulders, lust was the last thing she needed to feel. “It annoys me when people insist on jumping line. I think they should wait their turn like everyone else, no matter how much of a hurry they’re in.” She slipped behind the counter, where another box of merchandise waited to be opened.
“That’s not the way the world works,” Nicholas countered as he moved to help her unpack it. “Besides, it’s not like we don’t need the money. With the electricity rates and the property taxes on the ranch both going sky-high, Bess and Bridget still in college, and me about to go next...”
Their budget was stretched to the limit, despite the store’s continued success.
The door opened. Mac Wheeler strode back in, sunglasses on. The set of his mouth was as tense as his shoulders. “I’m going to have to head East.”
Erin nodded, not the least bit surprised to see him running off again. Wasn’t that the pattern of all the men she was attracted to? Here one moment, gone the next?
He consulted the calendar on his phone. “I’ll be back the day after tomorrow. So if we could move the appointment to Wednesday afternoon at four?”
He’d been a customer less than ten minutes and was already demanding more special treatment, Erin noted irritably.
Her little brother regarded Mac with hero worship. “No problem. We’re here whenever you need us.”
“I appreciate that.” Mac touched an index finger to his forehead in a salute. “Nicholas, Ms. Monroe, I’ll see you then.”
* * *
MAC GOT IN LATE and promptly took care of the personal situation that had summoned him home. Midmorning the following day, he stopped by corporate headquarters in downtown Philadelphia, to give his boss an update.
Louise Steyn motioned him into her office and shut the door behind them. Elegant as always in a tailored designer suit, she slipped behind her desk. “When do you think you’ll have this deal wrapped up?”
Mac settled in a chair opposite her. “Another month, maybe two.”
“What’s the holdup?” she asked.
How could he explain that even their company’s name—North Wind Energy—was offensive to the prickly Texans? “It’s complicated.”
“Laramie County should be jumping at the chance to lower their electric rates.”
Maybe
