Sweet Texas Charm (9 page)

The gals laughed and started to clean up while he put on his cowboy hat and practiced a smile that wouldn’t show his dimples.

“Thanks again for your help with my disguise”—he reached in his back pocket for his wallet and pulled out two hundred-dollar bills—“and for your discretion.”

“Our lips are zipped.” Mandy gave him a big hug. “Good luck, Coop.”

Minutes later he was ready to make his public debut. He and Meg decided to go in the opposite direction of the Founders’ Day weekend activities, and on the walk, Meg had him work on deepening his voice and throwing in a Southern drawl. He’d have to practice more before he spoke to anyone for any length of time. He could work on that tonight.

Turning the corner, they reached her black Honda Civic. “You really are amazing, Meg. You thought of everything. I can’t thank you enough.”

She smiled and tapped his shoulder. “We’re not done yet. I have one more thing for you. It’s in the backseat of my car.” She fished her keys out of her purse and unlocked her door. “Now, I didn’t have much time, but this will be a start,” she said, pulling out a navy blue duffel bag and handing it to Grayson.

“What’s this?” he asked, taking the stuffed bag. Whatever was inside it, it was heavy.

“Just some things you’ll need this week. You’ll find two pairs of work jeans, because I’m guessing you don’t own a pair of your own that didn’t cost three hundred dollars. There are also some T-shirts and some boots.”

“Boots?”

She leaned against her car. “Cowboy boots. Unless you already have a pair.”

“No, I don’t. I guess I really need to get into character.”

“Yes, you do.” She pulled herself up and opened the front door. “I should get going. I told Scott I’d help him with the evening shift. You all set?” She giggled, adding, “Coop?”

“I think so.” He glanced over at his Mercedes convertible across the street and pointed. “I probably shouldn’t drive that car to work tomorrow.”

She gave him an encouraging pat on the back. “Now you’re getting the hang of it. I’m guessing you don’t have a beat-up Ford in your garage.”

“No. Unfortunately, I don’t.”

“Tell you what. My brother, Bob, has a second truck just sitting on his property. I’ll drop it off tomorrow morning. You can borrow it for as long as you need.”

“Meg, you are amazing.” He pulled out his wallet and handed her two hundred dollars. “This is all I have on me right now, but I’ll give you more when you stop by.”

“You know, I’m happy to help, and I appreciate you thinking of me.” She took the money and put it in her purse. “Besides, I’m a sucker for love.”

“I know what everyone thinks about me and Becca, but that’s
not
why I’m doing this. I want to go in and find out what my workers think of the company. What they think of me.”

Meg started to speak but clamped her lips together. He could tell she wasn’t buying it.

“Okay, maybe I do have some ulterior motives regarding Becca. I need to know why my father gave her the shares and why he possibly believed that she was the one for me.”

“And you think she knows?”

He looked over at Betty Lou’s Diner and shrugged. “That’s what I need …” He paused and corrected himself. “That’s what Coop needs to find out. Becca’s never going to open up to me, but maybe she will to a guy she believes to be on her level, a peer, so to speak.”

“Well, don’t go displaying your sweet charm, and for goodness’ sake try not to flash those dimples. They’re a dead giveaway.”

He smiled and then covered his mouth. “I’ll do my best.”

“See you tomorrow morning, Coop.” She gave him a big hug and patted his beard.

“Thanks, Meg.” He gave a short wave good-bye and ducked into his car, hoping that he didn’t run into anyone he knew. Borrowing a truck was a good call, and he was grateful Meg had offered her brother’s.

Grayson drove home, donning his sunglasses and pulling down his visor. The last thing he needed was for someone to wonder why a guy in a beard was driving the highly recognizable convertible with Guac Olé vanity plates.

He hadn’t thought about whether he should stay at his condo or bunk up in a hotel for the next three weeks. There probably wasn’t a reason not to stay here, with the exception that Gavin might stop in. And Grayson planned on coming clean with his brother and swearing him to secrecy. He’d call him later tonight.

Pulling into his driveway, he parked the convertible and reached behind him, grabbing the duffel bag. Man, Meg had thought of everything. She’d even sent him a text telling him she’d forgotten to mention that there was a prepaid phone in the duffel bag he should use if he planned on giving Coop’s phone number to Becca.

He had to admit, it was nice to have a confidante in this charade. The waitress-turned-beautician made an excellent one.

Once inside, he grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator and headed upstairs to his bathroom to take out his contacts. Staring at his reflection one last time, he couldn’t get over the incredible transformation.

“Coop Jackson reporting to duty.” He practiced in a lower voice a couple of times, feeling a bit cheesy. He was pretty good with accents and was able to do a thick Southern drawl that his regular voice didn’t have. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Nash.”

Becca.
How was she going to react to her new employee?

He’d soon find out. Removing and storing his contacts the way Val had taught him, he changed into sweats and a T-shirt and then hopped onto his bed with his laptop. He had three things to do tonight, before Coop Jackson made his debut.

The first e-mail was to Roselyn Allred, his vice president of human resources. He told her that Chuck McAllister had been terminated effective immediately, not feeling an ounce of regret nor empathy for firing the prick.

He included in the e-mail that his former college roommate, Coop Jackson, would be at her office at 9:30 a.m. to report to work as the new line production employee.

Tomorrow, he planned on revealing himself to Roselyn. While going undercover, he didn’t want to do anything illegal, like collect a paycheck. She would be the only one in Guac Olé who would know the truth. The reserved, nose-to-the-grindstone HR employee was both professional and discreet.

Next, he sent an e-mail to his assistant, Eleanor, letting her know he’d decided to take some time off, and that she should clear his calendar for the next three weeks.

He picked up his beer bottle and took a long, slow drink of the smooth, imported beer. He could get used to a nightly brewski. Although, among the factory workers, he probably should stick to a more mainstream type of beer.

He set the bottle on his nightstand, and his fingers returned to the keyboard, this time to surf the web. Three clicks later, he’d purchased a beautiful bouquet of gardenias from This Bud’s for You, the town’s only florist, and added what he hoped was a sincere note to its intended.

Powering down his laptop, Grayson laid his head on his pillow and stared up at the ceiling, his thumb and finger rubbing his fake facial hair.

Would he be able to pull this off?

Becca sat back in her desk chair, the sweet scent of gardenias filling her lungs. The gorgeous white flowers had been delivered to her this morning along with the card that she’d already read a hundred times.

So, this was his apology. Even after reading it 101 times, it didn’t make sense. Was he kidding? He’d been hell-bent on her taking his deal, and now Grayson was going to welcome her to the board? Why the change of heart?

She wasn’t quite sure why her own heart sank at the news that she wouldn’t see him until September. Had he gone on vacation alone? Did he take a woman with him? Was it Meg?

She reached over and touched one of the soft petals, inhaling the perfumed scent. Gardenias were her favorite flower, but he couldn’t possibly know that.

“Well, aren’t those beautiful. Who are they from?” Tangie strolled in, eyeing the bouquet. “Oh my God. Your boyfriend sent them, didn’t he?”

“Yes …er,” she stammered. “Um …no.”

“So they’re not from Grayson?”

“Yes, they’re from Grayson, but he’s not, and will never be, my boyfriend. For your information, he’s gone out of town, and probably not alone,” Becca said as an image of a bikini-clad Meg rubbing suntan lotion onto Grayson’s bare back played in her mind.

She stood and turned off that mental show, shoving the note at Tangie. “See for yourself. He did apologize for Saturday night, though.”

Tangie glanced down at the card. “Do you think this might mean Chuck can come back to work?”

That was highly unlikely, and she didn’t want to give her friend false hope. She leaned back on her desk, straightening her legs. “Tangie, you know how much I love Chuck, but he assaulted the CEO. Roselyn left me a voice mail that she’d like to see me at ten. Obviously Grayson contacted HR over the weekend. It doesn’t look good.” Becca glanced up at the hanging wall clock. She had another hour before she needed to meet Roselyn.

To be down a worker who was as quick as Chuck was on the production line was a blow she’d have to deal with, and she had even come in early this morning to devise a temporary work-around. Roselyn probably wanted to talk about replacing him immediately.

The process typically included the HR head providing Becca with three to five candidates she’d initially screened. Then Becca would interview them. With so much going on in the factory, she hoped the process didn’t drag out. She needed someone who was efficient, who was reliable, and who didn’t have any desire to punch out the CEO.

That could be a tall order.

Tangie bent down and sniffed the bouquet. “Well, I’m glad Grayson didn’t press charges. Man, when I told Chuck to look after you, I never dreamed he’d haul off and hit the guy. I just wanted him to give you some attention. Make Mr. Blue Eyes jealous.” Her eyebrow arched. “What exactly were you two fighting about?”

Becca waved off her question. “Same as usual. He wants to buy my shares.”

“Really? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I’m not taking his stupid deal. Never mind that I’m pretty sure he lowballed me, I don’t want to leave the plant.”

“How much did he offer?”

“Let’s just say enough for me to pay off all my mother’s bills.” She sighed. “And probably retire in the Caribbean.”

Tangie’s eyes widened at that news. “Becca, why in heaven’s name aren’t you taking the deal?” She pulled out her phone. “I could easily book my spring break vacation with two clicks. I have a lot of time saved up.”

Why didn’t she take the deal? Even if Grayson had intentionally lowballed her, it was still a lot of money. “Well, as much as I’d love to send you to the Caribbean”—she rolled her eyes—“this is my home. I love working here, and that’s what I told Grayson.” She pushed off the desk and snatched the note back. “Besides, Jack gave me a wonderful opportunity. I don’t know what will happen come September, but Grayson is not going to wave his checkbook and push me out.”

She held up the note. “And according to this, it looks like he’s going to back off.” She paused, adding, “At least for the rest of the month.”

“Well, you know I support you.” Tangie pulled her blond hair up and off her face, sliding her plastic cap over her head. “And Chuck will, too, even if he’s not physically here. He told me you said you would help him out if he needed it.”

“Of course I will. He’s family.”

“Becca, you really are one of a kind.” Tangie glanced out the window toward the corporate building. “It’s too bad he won’t be around. I was kinda hoping I’d see that sweet butt today.”

“Chuck’s?” That was odd. Tangie could see it tonight if she batted her eyelashes his way. Probably sans pants.

“No, not Chuck’s. Swanky Suit’s.” She giggled and waved a finger. “And you can try to deny it, but the word around town is you two were dancing pretty close before you got into the tiff.”

“We weren’t that close.” But Becca’s heart picked up a little speed just thinking about Grayson’s hand around her waist. Being in his personal space had been unexpected, surreal, and well, surprisingly awesome. What was happening? She needed to get a grip on these feelings. Maybe his leaving was a good thing. Give them both some distance.

“You’ll miss him.”

“I most certainly will not. I’m glad he’s gone for a few weeks.” She ripped the note in half and tossed it into the trash for full “I couldn’t care less” effect.

Her best friend knew better, but Tangie was also good at reading people and knowing when to cease the teasing. “I’ll see you at the peeling station.”

“Not today. I’m going to pitch in at the end of the line.” That was Chuck’s area, and, damn, he was so good at it. Franco was scheduled to work there, as well, and although Becca loved the sixty-two-year-old, Chuck had always overcompensated for Franco’s slower pace.

She sat down and attempted to do some paperwork, but the strong floral scent easily distracted her. No man had ever sent her flowers before. Not that this was a romantic overture.

She set her pen down and stood again. She still had quite a bit of time before she met Roselyn, but she needed some fresh—non-gardenia-scented by Grayson—air.

Becca straightened her white smock and headed out of the factory, the humidity instantly seeping through her apron and dark shirt. Fresh air wasn’t in the cards. She needed air-conditioning STAT. Not wanting to return and deal with the flowers or her inquisitive coworkers, she took the pebbled path toward the corporate office. Maybe Roselyn could meet with her earlier.

She hated the fact that one of her best employees was going to be terminated for simply coming to her defense.

This isn’t your fault.
Chuck didn’t have to clock Grayson.
Men.

She glanced over at the parking lot and the vacant spot next to her truck. Of course, Grayson’s convertible wouldn’t be there. He was probably frolicking on some beach by now.

She paused at the entrance and took a deep breath.
Everything will be fine.
She’d talked to Chuck last night and, truth be told, he wasn’t that disappointed. His brother owned a cattle ranch a few miles outside the Sweet Ridge line, and Chuck would be feeding the animals in exchange for room and board. This way, he could still take his remaining night classes and finish school.