Chapter Six
I took the key, thanked the man, and walked away. I was so tired, I could barely stand. Despite my long day of traveling, the thumping headache, and the exhaustion that filled my body, I had managed to stay for the entire rodeo.
It was two and a half hours and just as beautiful as I remembered it.
The bronc riders were so athletic, the barrel racers so fast, the bull riders so tough, the team ropers so in sync. It was like a ballet; I was unable to take my eyes off it for a second. Between each section, I had to remember to get footage and take notes.
The “Nash” name was more popular than any other, I had noticed.
Colton Nash shattered the bareback bronc riding record, Alan and Dean Nash came in second for team roping, and Jimmy Nash was the only bull rider who stayed on the entire eight seconds.
What a family.
I walked down the outdated carpet and stopped in front of my room, my feet aching in my dirty heels. I used the key to twist the knob and sighed when it opened.
There was a single twin bed, wood paneling, and a radiator.
This room had to be haunted.
I dropped my bag inside and locked every lock behind me. It had a bed, a bathroom, and a small desk. That’s all I really needed.
I unzipped my suitcase and took out some slippers. There was no way I was putting a bare foot on the carpet older than I was.
Bzzz….Bzzz…Bzzz
“Hello?”
“Evening.”
“Hi, Harrison,” I said as I opened my laptop on the small desk. “How are you?”
“Missing you. How was the flight?” He was probably at home, watching a golf game, and drinking. He liked his routines almost as much as I did.
“Aw, I miss you too,” I lied with a twinge of guilt. “It was interesting, a woman talked my ear off the whole time.”
“I hate when I sit next to the chatty ones.”
“But then I immediately had to go to the meeting with the board, which was odd, and then right to the rodeo. If you can imagine, I’m a little tired,” I said with a small laugh.
I typed in the National Rodeo Tour’s website to start finding some facts to put in my first impression presentation.
He snorted back, and I could hear him take a slurp out of his drink. “How was the rodeo?”
My heart fluttered when Colton Nash’s picture popped up on the website, bragging about his ride. “Intense,” I muttered. I slammed the laptop closed.
Colton had made his way back behind the shoots, greeted a cowgirl, and kissed her. I had to stop fantasizing about the cowboy. I’ll admit, his incredible ride had lit a fire in me I thought was put out a long, long time ago, but that’s all it was.
I missed the rodeo. I saw a very handsome man do something very manly. That’s all it was.
“When do you leave for your trip?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Are you excited?”
“Yes, though I’ll be there for a while, so it’ll get old fast.”
I sighed.
Sometimes, on the weekends, I’d walk through the park, stopping at a bench or the waterfront.
I liked to people-watch. I liked to listen to the different ways couples would talk to each other.
Some would bicker, and others would not have anything to say.
My favorite ones to eavesdrop on were the ones that would finish each other’s sentences or never run out of things to say. “How long?”
“Two weeks.”
I pulled my itinerary out of a manila folder. “So you will be there next weekend?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I’ll be in your neighborhood. We could have lunch and get a hotel or something.”
He set down his drink. “I would really love that.”
“It’s a date.”
“Love you. Talk to you later.”
“Bye, Harrison.”
Click
I smiled again. I couldn’t wait to see him; maybe it would pull my stomach out of its knot. I thought about calling Martha and telling her about the cowboy, but I was so tired I could barely think. I pulled back the top comforter, dropping it on the floor, and climbed into the purple sheets.
Before another thought could enter my head, I was asleep.
~~~
I woke up drenched in sweat and shaking, rolling out of bed and landing flat on my butt. My heart was still racing. My dream was coming back to me in flashes, and I pushed it away before it could make me scream again.
The room was boiling, another reason for me to be covered in sweat. The radiator was on, pumping out hot air. I fiddled with it until it finally turned off.
Who puts a radiator in Arizona?
This assignment was messing with me too much. I needed to regain control. Throwing on my leggings and tank top, I rushed outside. It was almost as warm as it was in my room, despite it being just after five.
I found a small path around a park, much like mine in Chicago, except with cacti instead of the lake, and ran for an hour.
The ringing in my ears had finally subsided. The only sound now was the thump, thump, thump, of my tennis shoes hitting the pavement, followed by the predictable rhythm of my breathing. By the time I had made it back to the hotel, I finally felt a little bit more like myself.
I took a quick cold shower, very un-Allegra-like, and took my time dressing and getting ready. I didn’t have any meetings or rodeos today, so the time was mine to write my first impression proposal and get ready to travel to Florida tomorrow.
Usually, there were three rodeos in a weekend at each place, and I would have to attend, but I had caught the last one in Arizona.
This next one, I would make it with enough time to hire a photographer, schedule a long meeting with the board, and have my date with Harrison.
This was just the first location. This was the worst part.
I packed my briefcase and locked the door behind me. There was no way I was going to spend the day locked in the tiny windowless room. I was going to find a cafe or coffee shop.
Luckily, there was a cute little diner on the corner with big windows and only a few people. I made my way in and found an empty booth in the back. A waitress in a blue dress followed me and barely waited until I sat down to ask for my order.
I doubted they had anything like the green smoothie I made myself every morning, and just asked for a small salad and water.
[First Impressions and Strategic Update]
Where could I even start? I knew Mr. Sterling was sitting at his desk, ready to send me an email asking for this any minute.
[The “social media engagement gap” is directly related to a lack of professionals. We need to immediately develop an Athlete Endorsement Strategy, focusing on high-performing, high-profile riders. The crowds recognize the cowboys’ names; let’s get them to recognize the sponsor they will wear.]
The waitress brought my food and smiled as she left. The diner was adorable. Red booths, checkered floor, a juke box, I felt like I had been transported back to the fifties.
I cracked my knuckles and wrote a few more pages. I wrote about the board, the overall rodeo experience, and some closing thoughts. I proofread it so many times that the words weren’t making sense anymore.
Holding my breath, I clicked send, and it was on its way to Mr. Sterling.
He was bound to call as soon as he finished it.
The door to the diner dinged as someone walked in. I opened a new file on my laptop and started writing the script for our sponsorship at the next rodeo.
I was not going to let Agri-Corp get embarrassed like that again.
“Well, hey there!”
I looked over my laptop and saw Dennis Nash’s huge smile staring back at me. “Mr. Nash, good morning!”
“Please call me Dennis. Allegra, is that right?”
I nodded and closed my computer. “That was a stunning show last night.”
He sat down across from me without waiting for an invitation. “Man, I swear I’ve seen a million, and each one makes me excited.” He slid a muffin toward me and took a bite of his own.
I glanced at the muffin. “For me?”
“I don’t know what it is about small-town diners, but they’ve got the best muffins I’ve ever had. But don’t tell my wife. She’ll scold me till the cows come home.” He was wearing an Agri-Corp polo and a baseball hat.
“Thank you, that’s very kind of you,” I said honestly. I thought of his shirt from last night. “I noticed Nash was a popular name in the rodeo. You have sons in the rodeo?”
He laughed. “Couldn’t keep them out of the arena if I tried!”
“They were wonderful.”
Dennis was leaning back, letting me know that this wasn’t going to be a short visit.
He had all the time in the world and wanted to talk the morning away.
“They found their specialties quickly. Jimmy, our big daredevil, would try to ride any animal he could. Broke so many bones he had his own wing at the hospital.” He laughed.
“My twins couldn’t do anything without each other, so team roping was obvious.
And Colton has never met a horse he didn’t adore. ”
I smiled and leaned forward, absently taking a bite of my muffin.
“My wife was spittin’ mad when I signed Jimmy up for mutton bustin’,” he went on. “That’s when-”
“The kids ride the sheep,” I finished his thought and then slapped my mouth closed.
He raised an eyebrow, impressed. “You do your research! Anyway, yeah, she threw a fit, going on about how she didn’t want her babies as broken and bruised as I was.
Eventually, she agreed to let Jimmy ride, and after seein’ him win and how big he smiled with that huge trophy, even she couldn’t stop him. ”
The muffin was almost gone. “You were a rodeoer too?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am.” The jersey he had been wearing last night wasn’t just to support all four sons; it was his own legacy. “Steer wrestlin’. Ya know, when you jump off the horse and take the little cow down.”
“Did you enjoy it?” I didn’t think I would have a hard time interviewing Dennis for my presentation.
He slapped the table, making me jump. “Allegra, there’s nothing in life that made me as happy as that rodeo. That was until I met my Jo. My wife is as gorgeous as the day is long, and the only thing that could get me to settle down.”
The muffin was gone. “I would love to meet her sometime.”
“We should go out to dinner before one of the rodeos.” He got out of the booth and stood. “I’ve got the wife, four sons, two daughters-in-law, almost three, and six grandkids. We’re a rodeo all in ourselves.”
I thought of my life as an only child with just my mom. I would love to be a fly on the wall watching the Nash kids grow up. “Sounds exciting.”
He nudged my shoulder. “Don’t work too hard, Allegra. I can’t wait to talk to you more. Travel safe tomorrow!”
“Thank you for the muffin. You were right, best one I’ve ever had.” Also, the only one I’d had in four years.
“Don’t tell Josephine, cowgirl.” He winked as he walked away, his cowboy boots clicking noisily on the tile.
I blinked rapidly and looked out the window.
That name, “Cowgirl,” sprang tears to my eyes instantly. Thousands of memories flooded my mind. The dusty box in my apartment in Chicago. The smell of the horses in the arena.
I couldn’t hide who I was much longer.