Chapter Seventeen
The work week was kicking off. Yet, there was a noticeable, rather inconvenient hitch in Asher’s get-up-and-go. One that Asher blamed on jet lag. One that he was convinced caffeine would immediately rectify.
So Asher found himself jostling through the business suit-clad crowd jammed around the pickup counter at the coffee shop on the busy city corner close to his office.
There was no greeting from the harried barista.
No nice to see you from a local. No funny bits of gossip being traded.
Cell phones were the focus. Personal space was guarded. And everyone was in a rush.
Except Asher. His phone was tucked in his pocket.
His cowgirl was not calling or texting. He did not need to look at his phone for that bitter reminder.
At least his mobile order was ready and waiting.
Although, his first sip of coffee revealed it was tepid and bland.
No matter. There were any number of shops in the blocks surrounding his office building.
Surely, he would find a decent cup of joe.
It did not have to be the best. He already knew where to find that.
He just needed good enough until he lost his taste for diner coffee and put Kentucky completely behind him.
Asher walked into the offices on the forty-fourth floor of the high-rise, only to find himself pulled directly into a meeting.
Fortunate, that. Even better, he went from one conference room to another and was not given a chance to be alone with his thoughts.
He barely had time to trade his coffee for a soda.
It was well into the afternoon when Asher finally made it to his office and unwrapped a deli sandwich his administrative assistant had delivered.
A quick rap of knuckles on his door and Asher’s boss strode in.
Pierce Rylan dropped a folder on Asher’s desk and snatched the other half of Asher’s sandwich.
Pierce folded his tall, lean frame into the chair across from Asher and said, “Thanks. Didn’t realize how hungry I was until I saw your sandwich. ”
Asher tossed him the bag of chips and said, “Help yourself.”
Pierce popped open the bag, fished out a chip and aimed it at Asher. “You’ll want to read that.”
“What is it?” Asher brushed the crumbs from his hands and opened the folder.
“Your next step up the ladder.” Pierce stuck the chip into his mouth and crunched down. He smiled around the bite. “Figured you might like a new challenge in a new location.”
Asher chased his bite of sandwich with a deep sip of soda as he scanned the top page.
“The London office.” That was unexpected.
And not entirely off-putting. With more distance between him and Kentucky, surely the memories would fade faster, and he would finally be back to himself.
Asher asked, “When do you need an answer?”
“Take as long as you want,” his boss said. “But don’t take any calls from anyone at Fletcher and Rowe Capital.”
How about a call from a cowgirl? Asher avoided checking his phone. Kelley was not calling him. He made sure of that before he left Gold Finch. Asher wrapped up his sandwich wrapper and tossed it in the trash bin. “I’m late for a meeting. I’ll let you know what I decide soon.”
“I’m just going to hang here and finish this sandwich.” Pierce stretched out in the chair and grinned. “Don’t tell anyone where I am.”
“You got it.” Asher tapped the offer letter, then asked, “Do you think this counts as a second act?”
“Are you looking for one?” Pierce took a bite of the sandwich and stared at Asher.
Asher shrugged. “Just recalling a conversation I had back at home.” With a cowgirl he could not quite get off his mind.
“If that’s what it takes to get you to accept the offer, call it whatever suits you,” Pierce said. “Just sign it so I can sleep well knowing you’re working for me and right where you need to be.”
Asher nodded and headed to his next meeting, but he could not shake the feeling that he needed to be somewhere else entirely.
That night, all Asher could do was pace around his empty flat.
He did not notice before how sterile his place was.
There were no photographs. No pictures on the walls.
Just a modern metal art piece the staging company had left when he bought the flat and the furniture in it.
Yet, it was the silence that sat heavy around him.
He opened the sliding glass door, letting the nighttime buzz of the city sweep in.
His ears strained for something different, something more like laughter and easy conversation.
Too restless to sleep, he reached for his backpack and his no-fail distraction: work.
Only he pulled out a large yellow envelope with a Foxglove Bank and Trust return address.
The financial statements for the Blackwell Stables were inside.
Valerie had hand delivered them to Big E at the diner when she caught the older cowboy eating pie there.
Asher opened the envelope, pulled out the paperwork and discovered a familiar magazine inside.
He flipped to the sticky note-marked page and chuckled.
It was another Velvet Dusk cologne ad with the same cowboy and same white stallion and same tagline about leaving a trail they will remember.
Except there were colorful signatures and well wishes from the bank staff covering the page.
On the sticky note, someone had written, don’t forget you can leave a trail and follow it back home whenever you want.
Asher picked up the bank statements. He might not be following that trail home, but he could take care of some unfinished business.
Logging in to his laptop, Asher got to work on the stable’s financials.
The sun was a few hours from rising when Asher finally crawled into bed.
He missed his cowgirl and did not know what to do about the ache in his chest. But he knew one thing.
There was no financial crisis that drove Walter Blackwell to extreme measures.
That revelation prompted Asher’s phone call to Big E on his way to work later that morning.
He wanted Big E to know it was looking less likely that Walter was guilty of doping Pride.
If only that did not bring about another set of unanswered questions.
The first of which being, if not Walter, then who drugged Pride?
“We’re gonna have to keep digging until we figure things out.” Big E sighed over the phone line. “Seeing as I’ve got you, I have other news.”
Asher’s footsteps slowed. “You don’t sound happy. What happened?”
“I suppose it’s all in how you look at it,” Big E said. “Got a buyer interested in River Run.”
“That’s good.” Asher clenched his phone and switched ears. “That’s what we wanted. That’s real good.” And Asher would be real good soon, too. After all, that was what he wanted.
“Since you’re okay with it, I’ll work out the contract for purchase,” Big E said mildly. “And send it over for your review.”
“That will be fine,” Asher said quickly and walked into the lobby of his office building. “Just fine.”
“And Asher… You should know you were right.”
“About what?” Asher asked. Because nothing was feeling quite right inside him at the moment.
“Derby Dreamer,” Big E replied. “He had a bit of a stumble in warmups at the Rising Star Classic. Nothing serious. No damage done, but he had to be pulled from the main event.”
Asher rubbed his forehead with his free hand. Not exactly how he wanted that to go. “I’m glad he’s okay.”
“How about you?” Big E asked. “You okay out there?”
No. Not quite. But he would be. He cleared his throat and said, “I’m working on it.”
Big E chuckled. “If you gotta work that hard to call it right, maybe you’re in the wrong saddle, son.”
Still, it was the one he chose. “Nothing wrong with wrestling a bit. Walter would’ve told me to keep at it. Nothing worth having is supposed to come easy.”
“All the same, just make sure it’s worth having,” Big E cautioned, then ended the call with a promise to check in again with more information about the buyer for River Run.
Next thing he knew, Asher was on a crowded elevator, heading to the forty-fourth floor. Yet, he was not mentally reviewing his upcoming presentation; he was reconsidering his choice of second acts.
* * *
“I have been waiting to talk to you.” Kelley set a box of cleaning supplies on the floor in the diner office and smiled at her boss.
Pauline paused in the doorway. Confusion curved across her face. “What are you doing?”
“I’m making sense of the storage closet.” Kelley navigated her way back to the closet and removed another box. “Never mind all this.” After all, some things just made no sense. Kelley knew that much firsthand.
Pauline straightened a teetering stack of cleaning rags and made room on the floor for Kelley’s next box.
Kelley brushed her hands together and said, “I wanted you to know I’m ready, Pauline. I’m ready to fly with you. It’s time for us to spread our wings.”
Pauline’s eyebrows shot up.
“I know it seemed like I was dragging my boots before,” Kelley rushed on, her words tripping over each other as if the faster they came out, the more truthful they would be.
“But I don’t have cold feet now. Nothing of the sort.
I’m more than ready for the next chapter.
So, let’s fly.” Preferably sooner rather than later.
“Is this about Asher leaving town?” Pauline asked, her voice gentle.
“What?” Kelley shook her head and scrunched her face. “No.”
If it was about Asher, Kelley would be standing still and picking up the pieces of her broken heart. Nothing broken here. Kelley tucked in her chin.
“Of course, it is about Asher.” Frannie waltzed into the room and frowned at the contents of the closet strewn all over the floor. “How could it not be about him?”