Royal Trouble (3 page)

Leigh Ann looked down at herself, and thought she looked nice enough.  Nothing was hanging out of her lavender business suit.  It had been one of her favorites for interviews in her pageant days, and usually made a good impression.  She'd always won when she wore it.  Anger bristled inside of her.  What the hell did the way she looked have to do with the job she was hired to do anyway?

"She didn't like the way I
look
?" Leigh Ann asked edging forward in the seat, her voice raising a notch.  At least at the other four jobs she'd been fired from so far, her boss had a legitimate reason for letting her go. 

As hard as she tried, she was hopelessly incompetent at office work, typing being her biggest downfall.  There wasn't much typing involved here.

Mr. Templeton, cleared his throat and adjusted his six-seasons-out-of-date pea green tie then told her, "Um, you have to know you're beautiful."

"I didn't know being unattractive was a requirement of this job, and I think you could plainly see what I looked like when you hired me, sir," she said harshly, surprised at herself, but proud that she was standing up for herself for once.

"I made a mistake hiring you, Leigh Ann.  Please go to the unemployment office and I'll approve your benefits," he told her generously.  "I'm sorry things didn't work out."

Unemployment benefits would be squat, considering how much money she made the last five weeks.  She had never collected an unemployment check before, but she had heard it was based on her last three months income.  Leigh Ann had only been working for five weeks.  "I'd rather keep my job, Mr. Templeton."

"I...can't keep you," he told her again and shook his head looking uncomfortable. 

Swallowing to contain the tears that burned her eyes, Leigh Ann gathered her dignity then pushed up to her feet.  Lifting her chin a notch, Leigh Ann mouthed a canned polite response that had been driven into her since childhood, " Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Templeton."

Definitely not what she really wanted to say to this weak, spineless bastard. 

Go fuck yourself
, floated on the tip of her tongue, but she would never let it roll off. 
Ladies don't curse, Leigh Ann
.  Her mother could do the same as Mr. Templeton, she thought with frustration.  Although she could never tell either of them that, she sure could think it, and the words made her feel a little better.  Leigh Ann snatched the pre-made check from the corner of his desk and walked out the door.

***

"I'm sorry, Wes, I just can't keep it all up," Roxanne told Wes with a frustrated breath, as she saved the billing spreadsheet on his computer.  "I know I'm letting you down, but between planning a wedding, my chores at the ranch and the classes for the search and rescue team, I can't keep up with it all.  You need somebody full-time, and I'll stay until you can find someone, I'll even help you find someone."

Wes did need a full-time assistant, but finding one was the problem. 

Since Laura had left him seven years ago, he'd been through seven--
now eight
assistants. Rocky had been the best by far, but now he was losing her too.  Because she was marrying someone else.  She was in love with Ethan Cassidy, and had been, even when Wes took the time and worked up the courage to ask her out to dinner.

It was a damned shame too, because she would have been a perfect wife for him, down to Earth and uncomplicated, an ideal mother for his son.  Even though she was beautiful, other men wouldn't look at Roxanne Baker.  If they did, she would probably cut their balls off.  She was a tough, loyal woman he wouldn't have to fight to keep.  Just the type of woman he would have been looking for, if he had time to look.

Wes just didn't have time for a woman, between taking care of his son and saving his failing business.  If he didn't give away so many free services to struggling farmers and ranchers, Wes knew he wouldn't be struggling, but he just couldn't say no to them.  The welfare of their animals was more important to him than money.  If he had a competent assistant to handle his billing and collections, he would at least have consistent income from the people who he did charge.

Their one date had told him there wasn't a spark between them anyway.  Not one single flicker.  He didn't expect fireworks, didn't want them in his life again, but a damn sparkler or two would have at least given him hope it might work out.

With every day that passed, it became more obvious to Wes that Trey needed a mother.  He knew he needed a wife to help him, a partner.  But who the hell was he kidding anyway?  What would he have to offer a woman right now?

Wes's life was pretty damned boring, he was a divorced single father with a failing business, mortgaged to the hilt, definitely not good husband material.  He was in a black hole of his own making thanks to his ex-wife.  Paying her off for sole custody of his son had been the best decision he had ever made in his life though.  Trey had a good stable life now.  Even if Wes struggled to keep him fed and clothed now, they both had peace.

And he had learned a lesson.  He was never going to get involved with another woman like Laura.  High maintenance women, beautiful city women, spelled nothing but trouble.  At this point, Wes didn't care if the woman looked like ten miles of bad road, as long as she loved him and Trey, he would be happy.  Even if Wes didn't love the woman he married, he would make sure she had a good life, and was happy too.

"I'll put an ad in the paper, and see what I can find," he replied with dread coursing through him at the thought of weeding through resumes again and interviewing.

"Someone will apply, we'll just take our time and find the right person," Rocky assured him, standing up behind the desk.  "I'll be back Thursday to help."

It was Friday, so that meant he would be alone for almost a whole week.

Roxanne walked around the desk to hug him goodbye, and regret coursed through him, but gratitude as well.  Roxanne Baker had worked hard trying to help him fix what was broken in his practice.  She had organized him within an inch of his life.  Now, if she could just wave a magic wand and make money appear, he would be alright. 

"Thanks for everything, Rox."

"Don't worry, Wes, things will work out." Stepping back from him, the sympathy in her gray eyes tugged at him.  She cared about him, and he wanted the best for her too.  Wes hoped that Ethan Cassidy made her happy.  Rocky deserved to be happy, she was a good woman.  The best that he had met in a long time.

Wes wanted to find a woman just like her, only with a spark or two thrown in for good measure.  Not too tall an order, right?

"Things work out the way they're supposed to work out, but I'm damned sad to lose you."  In more ways than one, he thought.  "I'll be dancing at your wedding though, so save me one."  If he was sober enough to stand.  Wes didn't drink much at all, but that night he was going to make an exception.

"I don't dance, you know that," she said with a chuckle, nudging his arm as she walked by to go to the door.  "But I'll have a beer with you."

At a loss after Roxanne left, Wes stood there staring at the door, trying to figure out how the hell he'd gotten to this point in his life, where he'd gone off track and how he was going to fix it.

***

In her lavender and black silk underwear, a warm beer in her hand, Leigh Ann sat in the hell hot trailer sipping the beer.  It seesawed up and down her throat, before finally sliding to her stomach.  Because she hated beer.  This cheap version was the worst she'd ever tasted, but hopefully it would do the trick soon to numb the hopelessness trying to overwhelm her.  She had bought the beer with the last buck fifty in her purse.  The cheap wine she really wanted had been more than that.

The alcohol was having the opposite effect on her though.  The more she drank, the more depressed she became.  Her resolve not to head back to Dallas was slipping too.  She had berated her mother for the poor job she had done of managing Leigh Ann's life.  Well, Leigh Ann hadn't done a much better job of it in the last five weeks.

She was still broke and jobless.  The only difference was she called a tiny tin can of a trailer home now.  At least her mother's town home had air conditioning.  The air in the trailer had broken down a few days ago, and Dylan hadn't been by to fix it yet.

Someone knocked at the door, but Leigh Ann wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, so she ignored it and took another swig of the warm beer.  She had to swallow twice to get it past the lump in her throat.  The visitor didn't take a hint and go away though, they knocked again, louder this time. 

Leigh Ann Baker, you get up and answer that door right now, you're being rude
, her mother's voice shot through her skull and made it throb.  She paused with the beer bottle near her lips to grumble, "Shut up, Mama."

But she set the beer down and got up to answer the door.  She drew the line at putting on clothes though.  Whoever was at the door could take her as she was, half-drunk and sweating like a sow, and they better not say a word.  It was just too damned hot for her to worry with modesty.

Two unsteady steps brought her to the door where she flipped the latch then shoved it open.  Whoever her visitor was stumbled back on the steps with an oomph.  Boots scrabbling on the stairs were followed by a loud curse in a deep male voice.

"Watch your mouth," she chastised as she walked back to sit down at the table.  If the man was an axe murderer or Red Jones, he could come on in, because she was finishing her beer, not waiting for him or serving tea.  Maybe he could put her out of her misery.

"Leigh Ann?" Dylan Reed stuck his head through the doorway.  When his eyes met hers in the dim interior of the trailer, Dylan's eyebrows shot up.  "Are you okay, honey?"

He walked inside then reached up to pull the string that operated the only overhead light in the trailer.  Leigh Ann hadn't bothered when she came home, she wanted to hold her pity party in the dark.  It matched her mood.

"No, I'm not okay," she replied morosely, then tipped the brown bottle to her lips to take another long draw.  The overhead light came on and blinded her.

"Jesus, woman!" Dylan shouted and turned his back. "You're in your underwear!"

As if she didn't know that.  "So?" Leigh Ann replied with a shrug.

"
So
, you're in your
underwear
!" he shouted again.

With a drunken chuckle, she said, "I wear underwear every day."

"But it's usually covered up with something!" Dylan argued.  "What the hell is wrong with you?  Why are you sitting in a hot, dark trailer, drinking
beer
in your underwear?"

"Don't be dramatic, Dylan." Leigh Ann laughed, because that is usually what people told her, not the other way around.

"I'm calling your sister." Dylan shoved his hand in his pocket to pull out his phone.

"Annie can't help me.  Nobody can.  I'm a lost cause...my mama is right, I should just marry Lester Fallon and be done with it."  The more she drank, the better the idea seemed.

"Wow, you really are wasted." Dylan shook his head and walked to the table to pull the bottle from her hand.  Taking one step to the trash can, he stomped on the pedal then dropped it inside.  His handsome face scrunched up in disgust as he told her, "You need some coffee, darlin'." Opening the tiny cabinet above the propane stove, he dug around inside.

"Can't afford it, besides it's too damn hot for coffee," she slurred. 

Sweat dripped down between her breasts and Leigh Ann reached for the front clasp of her bra.  The beer wasn't cooling her off, the only thing that would was getting naked, and maybe a dip in the lake at the back of the campground. It was green and slimy, but she could handle that right now, as long as the water was cool. 

Leigh Ann stood, and Dylan's tall form wavered in her vision.  His back was turned to her, as he used the phone.  Popping the front clasp on her bra she let it slide down her shoulders and drop to the floor.  She staggered, banged her hip against the corner of the table and cursed. 

Dylan's eyebrows hit his hairline when he spun to face her.   "Holy,
shit
!" he hissed, then put his hand over the phone to tell her, "Put some damned clothes on, Leigh Ann!"

"Too hot, I'm going for a swim," she slurred reaching to hook her thumbs in the elastic of her underwear.  She lost her balance when her head swam as she staggered into Dylan with a giggle.  The beer had definitely kicked in now, she thought, as her hands hit his solid chest and he fell back with his arms around her.

The trailer door flung back against the outside wall with a clatter, then Rocky stepped inside.  "Dylan Reed, I am going to blow your balls off," she said as she stomped inside to grab him by the back of the collar.  With a yank on his collar, she maneuvered him to the door then shoved him outside.

Off balance, Leigh Ann stumbled backward, tripped over her feet and fell flat on her ass in the narrow aisle.  Sailor-worthy cursing sounded from outside the trailer, echoing in the small space.  Her sister stalked to the door and stood there with her hands on her hips.  "I hope you broke your fucking neck, because if you didn't, I'm gonna do it for you!"

"I didn't touch her, Rocky--she's drunk!" Dylan yelled back.  "I came here to fix the air conditioner like you asked me to!"

"Well, it sure looked like you were touching!  And Leigh Ann doesn't drink, much less get drunk!" Rocky replied indignantly.

Guilt poured through Leigh Ann, as she admitted, "I am drunk..." With a hiccup, she gulped air then finished, "And Dylan didn't tou--touch me."

With a frustrated sigh, Rocky grabbed Leigh Ann's arm and pulled her up to stand, then ordered, "Put some clothes on...then you can tell me what the hell is going on with you."

"It's too hot for clothes," Leigh Ann complained, sticking out her lip.  "I was going to the lake for a swim."

"You're not going
anywhere
, now
put some clothes on
!" Rocky threw up her hands, then strode back to the door.  Leaning outside, she yelled, "I'm sorry, Dylan, you're right, she is drunk.  You go on home and I'll deal with her."