Wrecked (16 page)

The charity website said they were always in need of donations, but CeCe had so much more in mind than simply cutting them a check. She wanted the whole shebang. Promotional merchandise and informational booths at events. The Cole’s name and logo prominently displayed everywhere, online and in person.

Personally, she wanted to use the Cole’s money to help people, but the business side of her brain knew how important it was for their corporate image too.

She had a feeling the size of her donation would make it well worth the organization’s while to give her anything she asked for in exchange.

CHAPTER 17

“Damn, Wade. What the fuck?”

At the sound of the voice behind him Wade turned and frowned at Clint. “What?”

The man shoved the door open with one shoulder. “You just let the door slam right in my face after I asked you to hold it.”

Wade mumbled a cuss beneath his breath and hung his head. “Sorry. I didn’t even hear you.”

“Yeah, I guess not.” Clint juggled the strap of the bag he held in one hand onto his shoulder. He downed the last of the energy drink he held in the other hand and then tossed the can into the garbage pail in the hallway. “Where you heading now?”

Lifting one shoulder, Wade shrugged. “I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought much about it.”

Clint tipped his head toward the exit. “Come to the bar. That’s where I’m headed.”

“I don’t know.” Wade wobbled his head back and forth, uncertain.

“You got something better to do?” Clint asked.

Wade let out a snort. “No.”

He certainly did not. All that awaited him on this Friday night was the cheap hotel room he’d checked into at midnight.

“Then come on. Shorty’s meeting us there and he don’t drink. That means we can get drunk and he’ll drive us back to the hotel.”

He couldn’t argue with Clint’s logic. “A’ight. Sounds good. Which place we going to?”

Clint tipped his head toward the parking lot. “Follow me over.”

Wade nodded.

Hanging with the guys had to be better than sitting alone in his hotel room watching crap television and thinking about things he shouldn’t.

Things always looked better from behind a glass of whisky.

Wade remembered how true that was as he tipped the glass back and felt the drink burn down his throat.

From this side of the glass filled with amber liquid, the girls on the dance floor were prettier. Shorty and Clint’s jokes seemed funnier. The song the band was playing was catchier. And his forgetting a certain red head got a little easier. All after just a couple of drinks.

Of course, whisky with a beer chaser meant one thing also got more intense—his need to take a piss.

Wade pushed his chair back and stood. “I gotta take a whizz. Order another round if the waitress comes by while I’m gone.”

“You got it.” Clint dipped his head.

Wade steered a wide berth around the dance floor on his way to the restrooms in the back. There were a couple of girls who’d been eyeing him and the last thing he needed was them trying to get him to dance.

He didn’t mind watching from a chair with a drink in his hand, but being out there gyrating around to the beat himself?

Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen.

Luckily, he made it all the way to the bathroom without being accosted. He took care of business and was headed back out into the noise and crowd when his gaze hit on a head of thick long red hair. The sight stopped him dead in his tracks even as his heart kicked into high gear.

Was CeCe here? Did she take that private jet of hers the boys had mentioned and follow him to the event? If she did, he would certainly oblige her in her quest to initiate him into the mile high club, should she ask.

Knocking himself out of his surprised stupor, he took the few long strides it took for him to get to her.

Grinning like a fool, he tapped her on the shoulder. “Fancy meeting you here.”

When she turned, he realized his mistake. The stranger smiled wide. “Hey, there.”

 
He saw immediately how wrong he’d been. She looked nothing like CeCe. This woman was shorter and she didn’t have CeCe’s willowy figure. Her outfit was too tight and too loud.

CeCe’s clothes might have been seductive, but it was subtle and even a man like Wade could tell they were expensive and well made, fitting her like a glove.

“Um, sorry. I thought I knew you.”
 

She reached out and touched his arm. “That’s okay. You can get to know me.”

He took a step back so she had to drop her hold on him. “I, uh, gotta get back to my friends.”

Wade fled the scene like a coward. He supposed he was one, afraid of one woman and her flirting.

What the fuck was wrong with him? He hadn’t come up with an answer to that question yet as he sidled around to the far side of his friends’ table, back to the safety of his seat.

“The redhead blow you off?” Shorty grinned.

Damn guy was too observant.

“Yup.” It was easier to lie than to explain that he’d willingly left the only redhead he was interested in back in California.

“Mind if I take a shot at her?” Clint asked.

Wade snorted at the request. “Not at all. Go ahead.”

As he watched the stock handler work his way across the room, Wade could only hope Clint kept the woman on the other side of the bar. Wade obviously wasn’t in the mood for female conversation tonight.

In fact, male conversation wasn’t holding his attention too well at the moment either and he had a feeling he knew why. They weren’t talking about CeCe—the only subject he was interested in.

Shit.

“So what’re you doing after the event Sunday?” Shorty asked. “We got a couple weeks break.”

“Yeah, I know.” Those weeks off were going to seem interminable. Resisting the lure to head back to California and kill time in CeCe’s big bed was going to kill him. “I might head back home. You?”

“I’m heading directly home. The wife’s to do list, on top of my regular chores, will keep me busy for a couple of weeks, plus some.” Shorty grinned and Wade felt the stab of jealousy.

The ranch was Wade’s home. His granddaddy, his parents and his brother all lived on the property, though in their own houses.

Wade had a small house that his stuff occupied, even if he didn’t get there very often. His daughter lived with his ex-wife a couple of towns over. He saw her when he could but she was a teenager now. She had better things to do than hang out with a father who was hardly ever around.

He had family at the ranch and he knew he always had a chair at the dinner table and a rack for his blanket and saddle in the barn, but it wasn’t a home like Shorty had.

There was no little woman waiting on him. No kids to run out to the drive and greet him at the truck. He hadn’t realized he wanted any of those things but the pang in his chest while listening to Shorty talk about them was unmistakable.

Wade knew of one way to get rid of aches and pains, of all varieties. He reached for the whisky and downed it.

At the same time, Shorty reached for his cell phone. He frowned down at the read-out and let out a humph.

“What’s up?” Wade asked.

“I just got a text. It looks like they’re looking for bull fighters during the Lane Rodeo and Stock Sale next weekend. That’s held right near your place, right?”

“Yeah, actually. Pretty close. You gonna work it?”

“I don’t think I can. I told the wife I wouldn’t take on anything next week. We promised the kids we’d go camping.” Shorty glanced up. “You should do it. It’s practically in your backyard and the pay’s not bad.”

“Hmm. Maybe I will.”

“I’ll forward you the text.”

“Thanks.” Wade nodded.

He might as well pick up some work. Two uninterrupted weeks at home loomed like an eternity to a man used to never being there. He’d need a break from his relatives for at least a couple of hours.

CHAPTER 18

Maggie came into the office and dropped a large envelope onto the corner of CeCe’s desk. “This came for you.”

She glanced at it and then to her assistant. “What’s this?”

“I don’t know. It came with the Fed Ex morning delivery.” Maggie’s answer wasn’t all that informative.

Since the delivery company’s name was written in bold blue letters across the white overnight mail envelope, CeCe had already guessed that.

She’d just have to open it up and find out. “All right. Thank you.”

CeCe grabbed the envelope and glanced at the return address. It was from her lawyer. This couldn’t be good. Then again, how bad could it be? The divorce was finalized months ago.

Frowning, she tore into the envelope and pulled out a cover letter attached to a document she recognized immediately.

The boat title John had brought over for her to sign last week.

The paper she should have just signed and been done with.

Instead, she’d made him send it through his lawyer to hers and the results would end up the same anyway. She’d sign the damn paper and both sets of lawyers got to add to their billable hours.

What the hell had she been thinking? She’d been stubborn and spiteful and the only one who benefited was their overpaid legal council.

Reaching for a pen, she signed the paperwork and shoved it into the envelope so Maggie could send it back. Maybe she’d have it couriered directly over to John today so he didn’t have to wait for it any longer.

She might not love the man any more but she also didn’t seem to hate him as much as she used to either.

That was progress.

It was kind of freeing, letting go of the anger. It was as if the bitter taste that overwhelmed everything for the past year had finally disappeared and she could enjoy the flavor of life again.

She stood and carried the envelope to Maggie’s desk. “Is there someone who can drop this off at Mr. Cole’s office today?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll take care of it.”

“Great. Thanks.” CeCe turned to leave just as Maggie’s phone rang.

Halfway back to her desk, she heard Maggie say, “Let me see if Ms. Cole is available.”

CeCe paused and pivoted back to Maggie.

The girl punched the hold button and glanced up. “It’s that bull rider charity you contacted.”

“Oh, good. Put them through to my line.” CeCe walked through the door of her office just as the phone started to ring. She reached across it and lifted the receiver. “This is CeCe Cole.”

Sidling around the desk to the other side, she lowered herself into the chair as the voice in her ear said, “Mrs. Cole. This is Verna Parks—“

“From the charity. Yes. Thank you for getting back to me.”

The woman laughed “No, thank you for contacting us. We’re overwhelmed by your offer.”

CeCe smiled. “Not too overwhelmed, I hope.”

“Not at all. We’d love to work with you and your company.”

And her company’s money, CeCe was sure, but that had been what she wanted when she’d made contact to give financial support to a worthy cause all while raising good will for Cole Shock Absorbers.

As a registered not-for-profit, the organization that helped injured bull riders would make good use of her funds.