“Tatsoi, more likely. California,” he said, and she stared holes in him. “You pick things up.”
“Tit or damn tat, I don’t care. She’s being a pain in my ass, and is suddenly insulted we aren’t providing a limo for her during her stay.”
“Tell her to kiss off.”
More fire flamed into her eyes—he admired that, too. “I’m not breaking the contract and giving her an excuse to sue. If she breaks it, I’ll deal with it. She and her tats and tits can be replaced. So…” She lifted the Coke, drank. “What can I do for you?”
“I think about that a considerable lot, but right now, it’s me for you. I’d like to take you up on the job.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Really glad, Callen.”
“I’m glad about that. Especially since I’ve got some asks of my own.”
“All right.” She picked up her pen, nudged a tablet in front of her as if prepared to note those asks down. “It never hurts to ask, unless you’re an asshole chef from Seattle.”
“Happy I’m not. I’m assuming there’s a contract involved here, too, though.”
“There is. We do yearly contracts for managers, with reasonable outs for either party should the relationship not work satisfactorily. I can have one printed out for you, so you can look it over.”
“I’d like you to add in if Chase or your father needs me at the ranch, and I’ve got things covered here, it’s not a problem.”
Sitting back again, she sipped the Coke. “I can do that, Callen, but that doesn’t have to be written and signed. It just is. I hope my word’s enough on that.”
“It is.”
“So you talked to Chase about this?”
“First thing this morning.”
“And the … other factors?”
“Yeah. He took a little more time coming around there.” Callen smiled at her. “Anytime you want my ass kicked, you just have to tell him I screwed up with you, and he’ll take care of that.”
“I expect no less from my brother,” she said sweetly. “But I can do my own ass-kicking. Still, nice to know he cares.”
“He does. I’d like to look over the evaluations of the seasonal hands you plan on bringing back. I’m not saying I’d try to outthink you on them, as you’ve already worked with them. I’d just like to know who I’ll be dealing with.”
Sitting up again, she noted it down. “I’ll have that sent to you.”
“Last, I’ve got a couple ideas for add-ons we could offer.”
“Such as?”
“Some people just want to get on a horse, ride around a little, get off again, and go have a drink. Others might like to learn something, and take more active parts. Saddling, grooming.”
“We offer equine education for the kids’ club in the summer.”
“It’s not just kids might want to learn something, or groom a horse. You do a whole thing for cooking, right? Shopping, teaching, tasting. I’m saying sort of do that for horsemanship. Learning, feeding, watering, grooming. Not just the ride, the full … cowboy experience.”
“Write it up,” Bodine invited as she made a note. “Once you do, run it by Jessie. It’ll go through Rory and Mom and me, but Jessie’s the one who’ll put a shine on it before it gets to us.”
“All right, I’ll do that.”
“We’re not only open to fresh ideas around here, Skinner, we like them. Got any more?”
“A couple I’m still formulating.”
“Okay. Meanwhile, I’ll have that contract printed out for you.”
“Good enough.” He rose. “I brought Leo up.”
“Oh, I’m not…” She trailed off as she checked her watch, saw she might not have been ready to leave, but she should’ve been. “I need about fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll wait. I said I’d take you dancing come May.”
“I recall that.”
“The way things panned out, there’s no point in waiting. How about Saturday night?”
She started to smile, then angled her head. “Are you talking about actual dancing?”
“What else? You got sex on the brain, Bodine. It’s hard to fault you for it, but I’m thinking the Roundup still has dancing on Saturday nights. I can pick you up at eight, but we could make it seven, have some dinner first.”
“Dinner and dancing at the Roundup? All right.”
“Good. I’m going to check on the horses.”
Dinner and dancing, she thought when he left her. Who knew Callen Skinner would turn into such a traditionalist?
*
Though she faced a busy Saturday, Bodine calculated she could wrap up her workday by about three. Four latest.
Not that she needed a lot of fussing time to put herself together for a night at the Roundup. Though she might wear a dress, she considered, just to keep Callen off-balance. She liked dancing, and hadn’t taken the time to go, either with a date or with girlfriends, in … Lord, she couldn’t even remember.
But as much as she liked dancing, she wanted that extra time to fuss and polish up for after. She intended to do some of her own rounding up once the band packed it in.
She’d already tucked the key to the Half-Moon Cabin in her pocket, and had a list of what she wanted to stock it with in her briefcase. All things being equal, she could take care of that, freshen up the linens, and be home to groom and dress with time to spare.
She had her maybe-I-will underwear tucked in her dresser. If things continued with Callen, she’d need to invest in more, but what she had would do. She’d already checked to be sure, as it had been thirteen full months since the last time she’d had cause to put it on.
While a busy year played a part in that, it didn’t play the main role. Sex didn’t have to be complicated, but a woman had her standards. She had to feel a spark and have a real liking for a man before he rated the maybe-I-will underwear.
Before most of the staff arrived for the day, she selected a bottle of wine from the wine cellar, a couple of beers and Cokes from the Saloon—making a note on inventory, and adding them to her personal tab.
She’d pick up coffee at the Longbow General Store, and though she doubted they’d need them, a few snacks.
She tucked what she had in a burlap tote, stored it in her office, and had just settled in to work when Jessica came in.
“I didn’t expect you in so early.”
“I’m hoping to leave the same way today. I have a date.”
“Well.” Taking that as an invitation, Jessica stepped up, leaned a hip on the desk. “Who, where, what?”
“Callen Skinner, dinner and dancing at the Roundup.”
“If there’d been an office pool, I’d have put money on Cal. What are you wearing?”
“Haven’t decided. I might shock his sensibilities and break out a dress. I do have a few.”
“Is this a first date?”
“I guess you could call it that.”
“Definitely a dress. The Roundup’s on my list to recommend to guests who want to venture out. It’s casual, right?”