Home on the Ranch: Colorado: Big City Cowboy / Colorado Cowboy. Julie Benson
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“When I met you in Colorado, you seemed fairly comfortable talking to people.”
“I hold my own.”
“On the guided tours you talk about your local community and its history. Are you comfortable talking about other things?”
His right eyebrow inched upward. “I’m aware of what’s going on in the world. We get cable and everything in Estes Park.”
She mentally cringed. How did she keep managing to say the wrong thing? She’d never been prone to that before. “I didn’t mean to imply you didn’t. I was wondering what topics you felt comfortable talking about in an interview.”
“I can talk about most anything. Being in the tourist industry has taught me to think on my feet. You wouldn’t believe some of the situations that come up.” Then he smiled. She almost reached into her purse for her sunglasses. “Or maybe you would, considering our first meeting.”
Her mouth went dry. His smile could make Mother Teresa sin. Elizabeth had to get that smile on film.
“The main thing to remember in interviews is to be upbeat and personable.”
“And to be positive about the client’s product. See, I can be taught.”
She laughed. The man possessed quite a sense of humor. “I forget that this is all new to you, and you’re not a professional model. I also proposed television commercials to Devlin as part of the campaign. He wants to meet you before we go further. He’s a bit of a control freak.”
“Takes one to know one.”
She bristled until she looked at him. Humor shone in his sparkling brown eyes. “I could say the same for you.”
“Sure could. That’s what made today’s photo session hard for me. Seemed like everyone was telling me what to do. I’m not used to that.”
She made a mental note to slow down and explain things to him on future shoots.
“FYI, the only one you need to listen to is me, unless the client’s present.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
She liked this easygoing man a lot better than the pain-in-the-ass model from earlier in the day. Too bad she had to spoil things by bringing up salary issues.
“Devlin wants to meet you tomorrow at ten. Will that work for you?”
“I’m at your service.”
Rory’s slow drawl wrapped around her, sending a rush of heat through her system. If he used that voice in TV commercials, women would cause a stampede on their way to department stores to buy Devlin’s men’s jeans.
“I appreciate your flexibility,” she said as their waiter placed their entrées in front of them.
The redhead who’d been eyeing Rory since he arrived, now finished with her meal, sauntered toward their table on a roundabout way to the front door. All the while she eyed Rory like an air force pilot preparing for a precision strike. She slowed down beside their table and then “accidentally” dropped her purse right at Rory’s feet.
He reached down, picked up the woman’s crimson leather bag and held it out to her. When she accepted it, she none too subtly slipped a piece of paper into his hand, smiled and strutted away.
How could she hit on a guy when he was with another woman? Elizabeth was amazed at such tackiness. She stared at Rory and waited. What straight man under the age of eighty wouldn’t take this gorgeous woman up on what she so obviously offered?
He tossed the paper on his bread plate without even glancing at the note.
Wonders never ceased. Elizabeth scooped up a piece of salmon. Knowing her time was running out, she found the expertly cooked fish tasted like paper in her mouth. She needed to get to the money issue before they finished their entrées. “Is there anything you’re concerned about with our meeting tomorrow with Devlin?”
“Should I be?”
No, I’m the one who should be worried, since Devlin wanted me to renegotiate your salary.
She shook her head. “Devlin wants to meet you before he officially puts his stamp of approval on the campaign and signs the contracts, but we shouldn’t have any problems. You’re the right person for the job.”
She knew she should bring up the subject of money, but couldn’t. The topic change would bring their pleasant dinner to a quick and deadly end. “How long have you lived in Colorado?”
“All my life. I’m third-generation. All my family’s there.”
She couldn’t imagine living where her parents and grandparents lived. Probably because her parents never stayed very long in one place.
“How ’bout you?”
“I’ve lived in New York state all my life, but I’ve only lived here in the city since I graduated from college.”
She paused, hoping he would share his educational background with her. When he didn’t, she gathered it was probably because he lacked a college education.
When the waiter cleared away their dinner plates, Elizabeth knew she couldn’t avoid the salary issue any longer. She took a long drink of water and then forced the words past her tight throat before she chickened out. “There was one thing Devlin wanted me to discuss with you before tomorrow’s meeting.” She swallowed hard, struggling to choose the correct words. Hell, there weren’t words that would make this any easier. “Seeing as you have no name recognition and no experience—”
“You said that made me interesting.”
He remembered that, huh? Figured. He possessed the most inconvenient memory. “Name recognition and experience are vital in the modeling industry, and factor into what a company is willing to pay. Because you lack those two things Mr. Devlin feels thirty thousand for the campaign is a little high. He thinks twenty thousand is more reasonable.”
There. She’d gotten the words out. She waited for the hurricane to hit.
“We agreed to thirty thousand,” Rory said, his voice low and unexpectedly calm, like the air before the storm hit and tossed trees and buildings around.
“Yes, that’s what we discussed, but we haven’t signed a contract.”
She considered telling Rory to get an agent to watch out for his best interest, but her conscience balked at the idea. She and Rory worked for Devlin Designs. In this situation she represented her agency and her client, not the model.
Rory crossed his arms over his chest. His gaze drilled into her. “I can head right on back to Colorado. My job there’s waiting for me. It’s no skin off my nose.”
CHAPTER SIX
AFTER DELIVERING HIS ULTIMATUM, Rory took a long swallow of beer, hoping the icy liquid would calm his rising temper. He should’ve known better than to trust Lizzie. Obviously, he hadn’t learned the don’t-trust-career-driven-city-women lesson well enough from Melissa.
Memories rushed back. They’d met at Harvard, and he, young idealistic fool that he’d been, had fallen madly in love. They’d made plans for a future together, or least he thought they had.
He’d believed Melissa loved him enough to follow him to Colorado. When she accepted his proposal she’d agreed to live with him on the ranch, but the closer the wedding date loomed on the calendar, the more she waffled, until she finally admitted she’d changed her mind. She wanted him to move to Boston instead, and if he wouldn’t the engagement was off.
Now here he sat across the table from another bossy city woman, and apparently Lizzie thought him a complete idiot. What did she expect him to say when she announced the client wanted to throw their deal out the window and renegotiate?
Sure,