Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Not yet, you’re not,” Jo said, barely giving the man a glance as she leaned over Quinn, her chest tight with fear. So Brian Hastings was here. So what? “Talk to me, my darling. Does anything feel broken?”
“I don’t think so. Where’s Hyper?”
“Benny went after him.”
“Boss, you need anything?” said the uniformed driver as he climbed out of the limo.
“Not right now, Sid,” Hastings said. Then he turned to Jo. “What do you mean, not yet? I’ve been Brian Hastings ever since the studio changed my name from Bernard Hilzendeger. I made it legal ten years ago. Listen, do you want me to call 911?’
“Yes,” said Jo.
“No,” said Quinn. “I’m okay.” He pushed himself slowly to his hands and knees. “But I dented the limo.”
“It appears you did,” Hastings said
“Call 911,” Jo said as she gazed into Quinn’s beloved face. Fred had said the greenhorn had heart, and Fred sure knew what he was talking about. “He’s in shock.”
“No, don’t call 911,” Quinn said, looking at Hastings.
“My God.” Hastings stared at Quinn. “It’s like looking in a mirror.”
“Don’t you wish.” Jo didn’t spare the movie star a glance as she stroked Quinn’s cheek. “I’m so sorry I put you through this, sweetheart. Please forgive me. I should have found a better way to raise the money than having you impersonate this guy. If you’re seriously hurt I’ll never forgive myself.”
“Hold it.” Hastings frowned at Quinn. “You’ve been pretending to be me? Trading on my fame? Well, I hope you have a damned good lawyer, mister, because you have a lot more to worry about than a dented limo hood.”
Jo whirled toward him, glad to be able to focus her anger on someone besides herself. “Don’t you dare threaten him! He nearly killed himself for me, and all because you wouldn’t get off the dime!”
Hastings’ square jaw dropped. “This is my fault?”
“It certainly is.” She shook her finger in his handsome face. “Your advance man came by my ranch and was so enthusiastic he got my hopes up that you would actually use my ranch in your movie!”
Hastings adjusted his sunglasses. “Actually, I was thinking I‘d—”
“But did you show up to close the deal?” Jo barreled on. “No, you did not. Well, you may have millions, but some of us struggle along from one payment to the next, trying to live the American dream, while our ex-husbands sabotage us at every turn.”
“But, you see, that’s why I’m—”
“And then, when we finally find a decent guy who’s willing to go that extra mile for us, willing to risk life and very attractive limb to make our dreams come true, along comes some millionaire movie star threatening to sue the pants off him!”
“And these aren’t even my pants,” Quinn added.
Hastings propped his hands on his hips and gazed at Quinn. Then he looked at Jo. “I still don’t get it.”
Jo took a deep breath. “It’s very simple. If my banker thought Brian Hastings was staying at my place, he’d assume the movie deal was on and that at some point in the future I’d be able to make a sizable payment on my loan so he wouldn’t foreclose.”
“But then, if the movie never gets made...?”
“By this fall, especially if the price of beef goes up, I should be able to make a payment that will satisfy him.”
“I have a couple of other ideas, too, Jo.” Quinn climbed off the hood and came to stand beside her. “You don’t have to sell Clarise and Stud-muffin. Instead you should shop around for a better insurance rate, for one thing. What you’re paying is outrageous.”
She turned to him, her eyes wide. “You snooped in my books?”
“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I did. I set up a basic bookkeeping system you should have no trouble following, and in the process found some cost-saving—”
“I can’t believe this!” Jo cringed at the thought that he’d seen the chaos of her financial affairs. “That is extremely private!”
“Dammit, Jo, it’s my area of expertise. And I thought we’d arrived at a point where I could—”
“You think because of what happened in that tree you now have the right to invade my private financial records and make all sorts of recommendations? Well, let me tell you, Mr. Quinn Monroe, investment banker, that I—”
“Excuse me, Jo,” Hastings said. “That is your name, right?”
“That’s my name.” Jo still glared at Quinn.
“Jo, I have a comment to make. I’m not sure what went on between you and this Hastings look-alike in the tree, but if he’s willing to give you some free financial advice as a result, I suggest you take it.
I hate to tell you what I pay my accountant, but it’s worth every penny.
I’m not good with numbers, and obviously, neither are you. ”
Jo lifted her chin. “I’ve been managing.”
“Oh, yeah? Then what was that speech about the American dream and loan payments and sabotaging ex-husbands all about?”
“I got... carried away.”
“Okay, but it’s hard-won advice I’m passing out. And these guys hardly ever work for nothing. That tree experience must have been something else.” Hastings folded his arms and glanced across the roof of the limo. “Here comes the horse you rode in on, Monroe.”
Jo looked over to see Benny leading Hyper toward them. Then she glanced toward the arena and noticed a small contingent of people, led by Emmy Lou and Fred, coming toward them. She had to find a way to stall them until she figured out what to do.
Benny reined in his horse and stared at Quinn and Hastings. “Separated at birth,” he said in an awed voice, shaking his head.
Jo hurried to him. “Not quite. Listen, Benny, I need you to do something for me. See Emmy Lou and Fred coming over here with all those people?”
Benny nodded.
“I want you to ride over and tell them that Brian Hastings has a big surprise planned, and everyone has to remain in their seats, or it will be ruined.”
Benny frowned. “Okay. But the flag’s on the ground.”
Jo snatched it up, shook it off and handed it to him. Benny had always longed to carry that flag. “You take it back, Benny. You’re the flag bearer and the messenger, okay? I’m counting on you.”
Benny grinned. “You bet.” He kicked his horse into a fast trot to make the flag ripple as he rode toward the approaching crowd, and Hyper followed docilely behind.
Jo heaved a sigh and turned to Quinn and Hastings. “Now, where were we?”
Hastings gazed at her. “I was about to ask if you want to negotiate the terms for my use of your ranch, or are you going to be smart and turn it over to Mr. Investment Banker, here?”
Jo’s heartbeat quickened. “You really want the ranch?”
“Yep. I drove out there just now, and it’s perfect. But nobody was home, so I came into town, saw all the commotion and decided to investigate.”
Jo glanced from Hastings to Quinn. “That’s great. Really great. But we have this tiny problem.” She looked at Hastings. “People around here think Brian Hastings has already arrived.”
Hastings stroked his jaw and looked at Quinn. “Think we could make the switch?”
“Maybe,” Quinn said.
Jo shook her head. “No way.”
“Why not?” both men said at once.
“Because you really don’t look anything alike,” Jo said.
“Quinn’s eyes are much bluer, and he’s taller, and his shoulders are broader.
His hair’s thicker, and he’s got that cute little freckle on his cheekbone, and everyone may not notice, but when he smiles, one of his eyeteeth is slightly crooked, which gives him a rakish air you can’t get with caps. ”
“I don’t have caps,” Hastings said stiffly. He glanced at Quinn. “But maybe I need the name of your stylist. To be honest, I haven’t been all that happy with Antoine recently.”
“My barber’s in New York.”
“No problem. Maybe he’d like to relocate.”
Quinn’s expression turned belligerent. “If you’re going to steal the first decent barber I’ve found in six years, I’m not telling you his name.”
“Guys. Could we get back on track? I don’t think it will work to switch one of you for the other, so what else have we got?”
“We could say it was all a joke,” Quinn said.
Jo looked doubtful. “But you promised people parts in the movie.”
Hastings groaned. “Oh, boy. Here we go. Not speaking parts, I hope?”
“No,” Quinn said. “I wasn’t specific, except I told this one guy, Jo’s banker, that he’d be perfect for this French character.”
Hastings shook his head. “I’ll get with the scriptwriters. The last thing I want is bad publicity because some local guy thought he’d be in the movie and he’s not.” He hesitated, as if afraid to ask the next question. “Did you... tell them what it was about?”
“No,” Jo said.
“That’s a relief.”
“I only gave them the title,” Quinn said.
“The title?”
“Yeah. The Brunette Wore Spurs.”
“Ye gods and little fishes. That’s awful.”
Quinn looked hurt. “I sort of liked it.”
Hastings gave him a disparaging look. “Which is why you’re in investment banking and I’m in filmmaking.
Okay, we can deal with that. I’ll tell them we had some fun with that title, thought of turning this into a Mel Brooks type spoof, but the producers didn’t think it would suit my image.
You didn’t know that when I sent you out to Ugly Bug. ”
“You sent me? Wait a minute, you didn’t—”
“Work with me here, Monroe. I’m trying to get you out of trouble, sport. Now, picture this.” Hastings glanced around to make sure they weren’t being overheard. “I met you in New York. That’s where you’re from, right?”
“Yep.”
Hastings nodded. “Good. I go there all the time. So I met you and noticed the striking resemblance.” He sent Jo a challenging look, but she only shrugged.
“I’ve been looking for a stand-in, so I asked you if you were interested.
You agreed to give it a try, so I sent you to Ugly Bug as a test, to see if people would believe you were me. It worked. I’m ready to hire you.”
“But I don’t want the job.”
“I’m not really offering you the job! Hell, you probably can’t even act!” Hastings shook his head. “Damn, but bankers can be literal. So I offer you the job, you turn it down, and we go on from there. Do you love it?”
Quinn nodded. “It might work.”
“Might work?” Hastings threw his hands in the air. “It’s brilliant! Improv at its finest! It’s so hard to get any honest appreciation these days.”
“I appreciate it,” Jo said. “You’ve just found a way to save my reputation in Ugly Bug. Thank you.”
“That reminds me,” Hastings said. “Where’d that dumb name come from?”
“You don’t even want to know,” Quinn said.
“Maybe not. We’re sure not using it in the script, that’s for sure. I even hate to put it in the credits, but I guess we’ll have to.” Hastings motioned to the limo. “Shall we?”
Jo eyed the limo dubiously. “Where are we going?”
Hastings smiled his perfect smile. “Straight into the arena, my friends. If there’s one thing Brian Hastings knows how to do, it’s make an entrance.”
Jo glanced at Quinn. “You’ll have to go some to top the last one.”