Chapter 4
Ryder had cleaned out the fridge, had washed and pressed his shirts and jeans, and polished his boots.
His electronics were charged, and he was ready to be “in the city”.
See him. See him learning new things.
Like was he supposed to talk to Charles on the drive or sleep or listen to his headphones…
He glanced up at the clacking sound of men’s dress shoes on the hardwood floors. Charles was headed his way wearing a flawlessly tailored blue dress suit, striped tie and carrying a briefcase.
“We’ll need a couple of bottles of water for the drive,” Charles said, setting his briefcase down in the foyer and tugging on his cuffs.
“Yes, sir.” He’d grabbed the little Yeti cooler from his truck, and he held it up. It had six bottles of water, some cheese and grapes, and two Dr Pepper Zeros.
Charles peered out the window as if he was making sure the car was here, which it was. It had arrived early this morning and had been parked out there ever since. “Ready then?” Charles gave him a smile. “Don’t forget your hat.”
“No, sir. I don’t go anywhere without one.” He had a dove gray felt 10X that made him feel amazing.
“I’d assumed as much. Lock up, please.” Charles put a coat over one arm and picked up his briefcase, then made his way out to the car.
He made sure he had his book, grabbed his shirts, the cooler, and his bag, then locked the door. This wasn’t hard work, and he could easily get used to being at the house—there was plenty to do with minor repairs, futzing around to make things nice.
Now he’d figure this part out.
He had music playing softly in his one earbud. It made it easy to hear his phone notifications and not bother Mister Charlie.
They climbed into the wide, cushy backseat of a black sedan and Charles got comfortable. “Good morning, Alan. This is Ryder, my new assistant.”
Alan gave him a quiet nod in the rearview. “Straight to the apartment, sir?”
“I think so. Do we need to stop anywhere, Ryder?”
“No, sir.” Where would they stop? He’d been to New York City once, when he’d thought he’d be a big-time bull rider. It hadn’t lasted.
At all.
He remembered landing at the airport, waking up in the hospital, and Roper coming to fetch him home after the brain swelling had gone down. All in all, he’d lost ten days.
“Straight to the apartment then, Alan. Thank you.”
“Yes, sir.” The car was warm and cozy and the ride was smooth as they headed down the winding mountain road.
“I bought the lake house a couple of years before I met Tad. He loved this drive. He’d point out the same things along the way, things that he liked such as this big tree coming up with huge winding branches—that one right there.
” Charles pointed as they drove by. “And there is a house up here with these ridiculous statues out front.”
Ryder thought they were kind of cool—not as cool as a huge iron buffalo but cool nonetheless.
Charles glanced at him, and he realized that the small talk about the statues was just a way of getting the conversation started.
“I understand if you don’t wish to talk about it, so please don’t hesitate to tell me if I’m overstepping, but I’m so curious about your riding career. Did you ride for a long time?”
He turned to face Charles and smiled. This was part of the job he understood. “I did, especially for a roughstock guy. I started at fifteen, got my card at eighteen, and rode for ten years.”
“Your card is for a professional membership? Or a license?”
“It’s the PRCA card—Professional Rodeo Cowboy Association. You pay your dues in, and you’re a member, then you can ride in sanctioned rodeos.” He remembered saving for that first set of cards—him and Roper had worked all summer, heads down, doing anything and everything to pay their dues.
“Ten years seems like a long time for such a dangerous sport. So you’re retired now?” Charles was asking questions kindly and seemed to be genuinely curious.
“Yes, sir. I had a career-ending injury.” He remembered when Roper told him.
Bubba, it’s over. You cain’t jostle your brain no more. Doc says so.
“Oh, I’m sorry. That must have been difficult to swallow.”
“It’s the nature of the beast.” And he wasn’t going to whine about it, but he’d lost more than anyone except Roper might understand. Still, that wasn’t none of Mister Charlie’s. Not at all. “It’s a young man’s game.”
“Mm. I know a little something about that.” Charles pointed to his silvery hair. “Although yours doesn’t seem to have anything to do with age.”
“No, sir. We started going gray at sixteen, and we’re all the way gone by the time we graduated high school.”
“We?” Charles looked confused. “Oh. Sister? Brother?”
“My brother. Roper.” His best friend. The son of a bitch who made him angrier than anyone. His twin.
“Where is he? New Mexico?”
“Right now?” He pondered that. “He’s in Anaheim. He’ll be in Oakland Thursday.”
“He’s still riding.” Charles nodded like he was putting pieces together. “You’ll have to tell me if his tour brings him out this way at all. I’ve never been to a rodeo.”
“It does, now and again. In fact, my career ended in New York City.” Go team him.
“Well, I hope you won’t hold it against her.” Charles smiled at him. “Maybe you’ll make some new, better memories for yourself. Which reminds me, we haven’t talked at all about days off. What are your thoughts?”
He hadn’t really put his mind to it, but what was he going to do? “I don’t know, to be honest. What works for you?”
“Well, I think you should have one day a week, or the equivalent, so you could pick a steady day, pick a day based on what the next week looks like, or add them together and take a few days off a month. It’s really up to you. Paid days, of course.”
“I—Sure. Totally.” Was he supposed to leave on his days off? He could save up like four days a month and fly to see Roper, he guessed. Lord knew he had airline miles.
“I’m flexible. You can do whatever you like, just be sure I have some notice. Fair?” Charles pulled out his phone and looked at it, scrolling slowly.
“Of course. I’m pretty easy.” And not sure what usually happened in these situations.
He wasn’t going to call Rog, though.
No way.
He’d just figure everything out by his damn self.
“You do seem fairly relaxed, it’s true.” Charles seemed to approve.
It was a four-hour drive to New York, and they couldn’t talk the whole way, right? Charles put on headphones and disappeared into his phone for a while, and Alan never said a word after they left the driveway.
So, he texted Roper.
Ryder
heading to NYC
Roper
fun fun. Doing anything cool
Ryder
dunno. Just going to be…friendly? it’s not a hotel, it’s an apartment. I’ll cook for sure. Make coffee
Roper
housewife
Ryder
yep. Hes nice tho. Quiet. Busy. I basically make coffee and tea and look hot
Roper
asshole. I’m hotter
Ryder
always, but I’m better hung
Roper
I’m sure Mr. NYC would love to know that
Ryder
No way. He’s in mourning. It’s sad. Just lost his guy. Married & everything
Roper
WHOA
Ryder
inorite? :(
Roper
is he hot too? tell me he’s hot. I’m so sick of looking at cowboy butts
There was a pause and then Roper added,
that’s a lie, I will never get sick of cowboy butts
He fought his chuckle.
Ryder
super pretty, in a sad, serious SUPER CLASSY way. He’s like a model.
Roper
Oh, so you’re fucked. You draw rednecks
Ryder
like moths to a bug zapper
Roper
use your personal fund to pay them to go away. you have one right? a fund? I think that’s a rich people thing.
He rolled his eyes.
Ryder
U do remember the $2.5mil medical bill? Bankruptcy? I got a laptop, a truck, & a phone.
Roper
Right…you got a sexy bro too
Ryder
I know. You look JUST LIKE ME. Lucky you!
Roper
Funny. Less beat up.
Yeah, but with a beard and longer hair, no one would tell them apart.
Ryder
Give it time butthead
Roper
so is this an I need to talk to Ro text convo or an I am avoiding texting Rog convo? he says ur not answering his texts. U rly blocked him?
Ryder
he said to deal w shit on my own. I have my dealing hat on
Roper would understand that. Rog wouldn’t have given him this job if Roper hadn’t been in his back pocket.
Roper
ooh that’s a nice hat. Brand new and barely worn!
Ryder
Like you know about the hat. Fucker.
Roper
Don’t make me send you a dick pic
Ryder
EEEEEEEEW
Gross.
Roper
You’re good, bro. Promise. This shit is right in your wheelhouse. Cooking, fixing shit, taking care. So you.
Ryder
Yeah. He’s a sweet guy. Quiet.
Ryder thought he was just in need of someone in the house so he wasn’t alone. That was fair.
“Skyline.” Charles pointed out the window. “Beautiful today in this clear weather. Won’t be long now.”
“Oh, that’s pretty.” Big. It was pretty cool, actually. He took a quick picture and sent it to Roper.
Roper
Wow. Ur really there. That’s pretty
Ryder
I am. It is. ttyl. Love you
He needed to be social and friendly and all.
Roper
ditto
“Are you hungry?” Charles put his phone away too. “We could put our things down and go get some lunch before we settle in.”
“I could totally eat. Also, I have grapes and cheddar, just in case you get peckish.” He was good at dealing with peckish folks. Roper was a turd when he was hangry.
Charles seemed pleased and gave him a kind smile. “Oh, I’d love a snack. What a great idea. We still have the bridge traffic to get through.”
“I have extra sharp and just plain old sharp, plus red and green grapes.” He was an extra-sharp cheddar guy, himself.
He pulled out the Tupperware containers with the food, opening them up, easy peasy.
“Extra sharp please, though honestly, it’s cheese. I’m afraid I have little willpower.” And as if to prove it, Charles reached right in and took two slices. “I think I’m more of a green grape person, though red grapes are sweeter. I suppose it’s good that I don’t have to choose.”
“There you go. I just go for no seeds. Grape seeds are no fun at all.” They got in his teeth.
“Seedless is preferable,” Charles agreed. They both reached into the little tub of grapes at the same time and their fingers tangled. Charles chuckled but didn’t yank his hand away. “Terribly sorry.”
He chuckled. “You first. It’s only fair.”
Charles was the boss, after all, and they were his grapes.
“Green for me, then.” Charles plucked a couple out of the container and popped them in his mouth. “Mm. Is there a better combination than grapes and cheese?”
“Olives and cheese.” That was his absolute favorite. “I do love me some olives.”
“Mm. Also good. Nice and salty.” Charles reached for a bottle of water and opened it, then took a big gulp.
“Yeah. I’ll add olives next time. They can be polarizing.”
Charles chuckled. “Such a diplomatic way of putting it.”
“That’s me. Diplomats R us.” He tickled himself, honest to God. “So are you a green or a black olive guy?”
“Black on pizza, green as a snack. Is there any other way?” Charles winked at him. “I’m not a pimento fan, however.”
“No? I love pimento cheese.” And green olive and pepperoni pizza was his absolute favorite.
“You may have all of my pimentos. Pimento? What’s the plural? I have no idea.”
“Pimentos, I guess. Although I’ve heard folks pronounce them pim-i-entos.”
“Fancy.” Charles peered out the window. “Are we over the bridge already, Alan?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll have you home in a few minutes.”
“You’re a good distraction, Ryder. Or maybe it’s the cheese.”
“Maybe it’s the grapes,” he teased. “It could happen.”
Charles just rolled his eyes.