The Bull Rider’s Keeper (17 page)

She sat and glanced around the room. She smoothed hair with her hands when she saw George Baxter, the family lawyer, sitting next to James. “You might have warned me to dress up before meeting you all like this.”

James laughed. “You look fine.” He reached over and covered her hand with his own. “I’m sorry about this.”

Jesse could see the tears fill Angie’s eyes as she nodded. Damn, she was trying to be cool, but he knew their concern touched her. “First things, first. We need to make a schedule." He tapped a notebook and a calendar. When’s your next doctor appointment?”

“Wednesday, with the surgeon, but …” Angie was cut off by Barb.

“I’ll take that appointment and talk to that doctor to get an idea of what’s coming next.” Barb tapped the appointment into her phone. “What time should I pick you up?”

“I really don’t need help.” Angie shook her head and scowled at Jesse. “This is why I didn’t want you to know. I don’t want to be a bother.”

The gathering around the table glanced at James. “Mom, you’re not a bother. We’re family and we’re going to fight this together. Don’t start pointing your finger at me. I’m not calling you Angie anymore. You’re my mother. Get used to it.”

Angie wiped the tears from her eyes. “Okay, then. I never could talk you boys out of something once you got your minds made up.”

“So what time do I pick you up?” Barb asked.

They discussed what the doctors had already told Angie, and filled their calendars with appointments and meetings. Lizzie and James decided to move down from the mountain back into the ranch house.

“I’m not sure you’ll be getting much rest once the twins and JR arrive. Those boys love their grandma.” Lizzie smiled as she put a basket of cinnamon rolls on the table.

“I think they’ll be exactly what I need during my bad days.” Angie took a roll and broke it apart. “So are we done beating this thing to death?”

“One more problem: your health insurance from the gallery.” George looked grim. “I’m not sure what I can do now, but as soon as Jesse signs the purchase contract we’ll get you back on the policy. Good news is that the insurance company cannot reject you on a pre-existing clause anymore. Can you delay the surgery until the sale is finalized?”

“No.” James’s answer came first. “We’ll hire her on at the agency and get her coverage today.” He glanced at Barb. “We can do that, right?”

She shook her head. “Even if we hire her, there’s a ninety day waiting period on our policy. That’s why I keep the riders on the insurance year-round instead of just during the rodeo season. It costs us more, but the guys are protected.”

George looked at Jesse. “I’ll go talk to this Taylor girl and see if we can get her to change her mind. The sale will be finalized in the next thirty days or so. Typically, management doesn’t make big changes while things like this are pending. I don’t know what she was thinking.”

Everyone’s gaze fell on Jesse. The room went silent as he struggled with the decision. Finally, he put Angie’s needs in front of his own anger. What harm could it do to see Taylor again? “I’ll go with you.”

• • •

Taylor’s head pounded. She couldn’t believe she was even walking, considering the number of shots she’d pounded back last night. Salt, tequila, lemon, shudder. Rinse and repeat. At least she’d stopped crying about the fight with Jesse. Until she was truly good and drunk—then the blues hit harder than she’d ever felt them before. She needed to change her coping mechanisms, or she’d find herself in an intervention meeting faster than her folks could say, “move out of our house.”

She pulled out the file with the condo information. She’d planned on buying the place next year by using her savings and income from the gallery. With the gallery being sold, and her job no longer secure, she wondered if she should shelve the idea in case the next step in her career wasn’t here in Boise. All because she’d clung to some desperate idea that she had to uphold the family name. She touched the pictures of the model kitchen. Granite counter tops, walnut cupboards, and, more important, a gas stove. She could see herself living there, making pastas and pastries. Making breakfast when Jesse stayed over, his arms surrounding her, kissing her neck as she took the omelet makings out of the stainless steel refrigerator. She shook away the fantasy. She’d shut that door when she’d left Wyoming, doing her cross-state walk of shame.

Frowning, she replayed the argument back in her mind. Jesse had been mad about her being out with Mike. As if there was something going on there—ha. But he’d said something else, too. He’d said that she’d hurt Angie. Maybe Jesse had found out about Angie’s health condition and blamed Taylor for not telling him first.

That didn’t sound right. Jesse was mad about a letter. She could see the crumpled paper in his hand as he railed last night.

Taylor buzzed Brit, who was watching the front desk.

“Hey, you feeling better? Want some more coffee?” Brit sounded fine. Like she hadn’t matched Taylor shot-for-shot last night. Taylor hated her for it, but only just a bit.

“Coffee would be good,” she said. “Hey, is Angie in yet?”

There was a pause. “I’ll bring a cup in. And no, she hasn’t shown. Do you want me to call her?”

“No.” Taylor opened her computer, looking for Angie’s cell number. She dialed the number and got her voicemail. When Angie’s prerecorded message ended, she left a brief message. “Call me. It’s Taylor.”

As Brit came into the room, she nodded to the phone. “Didn’t reach her?”

“She said something yesterday about needing some time off. Maybe I didn’t write down the dates right.” Taylor sipped the black liquid like it was a healing potion.

Brit slipped into one of the guest chairs. “I was going to ask you what you guys were talking about. You were in here a long time. Mike stopped by and waited for a while, but then he took out of here like a shot.”

“Wait. Mike was here when I was talking to Angie?” Taylor frowned; he hadn’t mentioned that last night. The guy was beginning to feel like a creepy stalker instead of a concerned lawyer. Maybe it was better that the gallery was being sold. This way, she could cut her ties with Mike without hurting his feelings any more than she had last night.

Brit didn’t seem concerned, though. “He watched the front for me while I took a bathroom break, but he took off when I came back. Said he’d talk to you later.”

“Weird.” Taylor glanced around the office. “Well, I guess in a few weeks this will be Jesse’s office. Has he said anything about keeping you on? You know, you don’t have to leave just because I’m persona non gratis around here.”

Brit shrugged. “Doesn’t matter one way or the other. But no, he hasn’t talked to me. I’m surprised he kicked you to the curb. You want to tell me what really happened in Wyoming?”

Taylor leaned back, tapping a pen on her grandfather’s desk. “I screwed it up. Have I always been a runner?”

Her friend laughed. “You’ve never let anyone get this close before, so it’s hard to say. I can count on one hand the number of guys you’ve dated seriously, and that includes Jesse. Me, on the other hand, I’m a free spirit.”

“Is that what they call it?” Taylor felt her lips curl. Talking to Brit always made her feel better.

“Depends on who ‘they’ are.” Brit made air quotes with her fingertips. “My last boyfriend called me a slut when we broke up.”

“He was a jerk.”

The front doorbell rang and Brit stood, a wicked smile on her face. “Doesn’t mean I wasn’t a slut.”

“Silly,” Taylor called after her friend as she left. Relationships were too hard. Art was easy. You found something you loved and bought it. You found things other people might love, and bought them. If they didn’t sell, then you were wrong. Love should be that easy.

A knock on the door brought her out of her musing. She looked up, half expecting Angie to be standing there in one of her wild outfits. Instead, Brit stood in the doorway, her face lined with worry. “What’s up?” Taylor asked.

“Jesse and his lawyer are here. Do you feel up to talking to them?” Brit lowered her voice. “Should I call Mike and have him come over before you meet with them?”

“No. I mean, don’t call Mike. I’m sure this is just something about the sale and my imminent departure. Send them in.” Taylor glanced at her reflection in the monitor, hoping she didn’t look as bad as she felt. “Stupid,” she said to herself. What did she care how she looked? Jesse had broken up with her last night. No need to pretend she hadn’t been upset. She took a deep breath and stood as the two men walked into the office.

“Thank you for seeing us,” the older man said. “I don’t think we’ve met before. George Baxter. I’m the Sullivan family lawyer.”

Taylor shook his hand and motioned to the two guest chairs in front of her desk. “Family lawyer? I assumed you were here about the gallery sale contract.”

A look passed between Jesse and George. “I handle their business issues, as well. Although this isn’t about the sale; we’ve come to ask for a favor.”

“I don’t understand.” Taylor ignored the lawyer and focused on Jesse. “After your tirade last night, you want a favor from me?”

Jesse wouldn’t meet her gaze.

George spoke again. “Miss DeMarco, we are here on behalf of Angie.”

Fear shot through her. “Oh my God, is she all right? I tried to call her just now. Is that why she didn’t come in to work?”

This time Jesse didn’t hold back. “Like you care? Like you were expecting her?”

Taylor’s hands shot up in frustration. “Seriously, Jesse, get over yourself. Just because I didn’t stay and cuddle after we made love the other night, doesn’t mean I don’t care about Angie. Why isn’t she here?”

George put a hand on Jesse’s arm, a gesture encouraging him to be silent. Now she was really worried. But she’d promised Angie she wouldn’t be the one who told Jesse. Maybe they didn’t know about her condition. If she was in the hospital, Taylor needed to say something. Her mind whirled as the two men sat quietly in front of her. Finally, Jesse nodded and the lawyer turned toward her.

“With the gallery sale in the final stages, we had hoped you wouldn’t make any staffing changes.” The man opened a briefcase and pulled out a pile of papers. “We’re willing to make some concessions in exchange for this request.”

Taylor glanced down at the page on top of the pile he had set in front of her. “I’m confused. What are we talking about? Where’s Angie?”

George took a crumbled sheet of paper from his suit pocket. “Angie received this yesterday by courier. You didn’t know?”

Taylor breathed a sigh of relief. This wasn’t about the cancer. There was something else going on. Probably some issue from Angie’s wild past coming back to haunt her. Taylor bit back a smile, wondering what trouble the woman had gotten herself into now. She was beginning to really enjoy working with the unpredictable Sullivan clan. Unfortunately, that was almost over due to her inability to keep her relationship with the new owner professional. The desire to smile left her, and she took the page from George.

Mike’s law firm’s letterhead struck her first.
Oh, man, this can’t be good
. She skimmed the letter releasing Angie from employment with the gallery and wishing her safe travels. She pushed the letter back to the lawyer. No wonder Jesse was hot. Mike must have overheard her and Angie’s conversation and taken it upon himself to solve the problem.

She thought about his call yesterday for dinner. He had to talk to her. Of course, once she’d misinterpreted the meeting and told him she just wasn’t into him, this subject hadn’t come up. It wasn’t the first time Mike had acted on his own rather than at her direction. Unless he’d called Dad and got his permission. She had calls to make.

“I didn’t authorize this termination. As long as I’m gallery director, Angie has a job here.” She glared at Jesse whose eyes widened. “Of course, your client has made it very clear I’m not being asked to stay on during the transition, so I can’t make any promises for after the contract is settled.”

George shot a glance at Jesse, who, to Taylor’s amusement, had the grace to look sheepish. “So she will continue on your insurance during the transition?”

Taylor stared at the two, wondering what they knew. Obviously, Angie had told them enough that they were fighting for her job and health insurance. Still, no one had said the word cancer, and it wasn’t going to come out of her mouth before she knew exactly what Angie had said.

Taylor tapped her finger on the desk. “This letter was a mistake. I didn’t authorize it. And if my father did, he will reverse the decision as soon as I talk to him.” She stared at Jesse, but her words were aimed at the lawyer. “Please tell Angie to return to her normal schedule and that everything we discussed yesterday is still in place.”

George nodded toward the stack of papers he’d set on the desk. “You don’t want to read our offer?”

Taylor shook her head. “There’s no need. This was a big misunderstanding on the gallery’s part. Angie is a vital and important member of our staff, and we need her here. She can take the day off, but the two of us will talk in the morning when she comes in for her shift.” She pushed the stack of papers back to George. “This is between Angie and me. There’s no need for lawyers.”

“You started it,” Jesse said.

Taylor saw George squeeze his client’s shoulder while he responded. “Now, Jesse, Ms. DeMarco has just explained this was a terrible misunderstanding.” He stood, pulling Jesse up out of his chair as well. “Thank you for seeing us. I’m sure Angie will be overjoyed at the news.”

Taylor felt tears fill in her eyes, but swallowed hard when she saw Jesse frown in confusion. Overjoyed wasn’t a feeling she believed Angie would be having for a long time. At least, not until the doctor pronounced her cured, which could be many years from now.

She was going to kill Mike. If he’d gone behind her back to her dad …? Fury consumed her, but she had to keep it together for a few more minutes. She had to wait until Jesse and his hired gun were out of the room. She’d thought the fight last night was about their relationship. But no, he was sticking up for his mother.

The tears threatened again, but she pushed them away and stood, watching George stuff the paperwork back into his briefcase. Jesse might think she was a dragon lady, but she didn’t have to act like it.