Barbara Dunlop - In Bed With The Wrangler

“I-”

“Because you’d better write this down.”

Amber glanced around at the countertops. “Just-”

“Sally Nettleton.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sally Nettleton is the accounts supervisor. You can speak to her in the morning.”

“Sure. Do you happen to have her-”

“And a warning, young lady. Don’t you ever go above my head to Royce Ryder again.”

Amber froze, voice going hollow. “What?”

“Share this conversation with him at your own peril. I don’t tolerate insubordination, and he won’t always be there to protect you.”

Amber’s mouth worked but sounds weren’t coming out. Nobody had dared speak to her that way in her life.

“You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last. Don’t fool yourself into thinking anything different.” He stopped speaking, and the line fairly vibrated with tension.

She didn’t know what to say. She had absolutely no idea what to tell this obnoxious man. Imagine if she really was an employee, dependent on her job. It would be horrible.

She heard a click and knew he’d signed off.

“Goodbye,” she said weakly for the benefit of Royce and Stephanie.

“Told you he was feeling snarky today,” said Stephanie.

“What did he say?” asked Royce. “You okay?”

“She looks a little pale,” Stephanie put in.

“I’m fine,” said Amber, debating with herself about what to tell Royce as she shut down the phone and handed it back.

“You didn’t ask many questions,” Royce ventured.

“He gave me a name. Sally Nettleton.” She took a breath, framing her words carefully. “He was, well, annoyed that you’d put me in direct touch with him.”

Royce frowned.

“He seems to think I broke the chain of command.”

“So what?”

“I tell you, something’s wrong with that man,” Stephanie put in, dishing some of the crisp salad onto her plate.

Amber made up her mind, seeing little point in protecting Barry. In fact, she probably owed it to the rest of his staff to tell Royce the truth. “He seems to think I’m your lover.”

It was Royce’s turn to freeze. “He said that?”

“He said he didn’t tolerate insubordination, and you won’t always be around to protect me. That you’d lose interest.”

A ruddy flush crept up Royce’s neck, and he reached for his phone.

Amber put her hand over his. “Don’t,” she advised.

“Why the hell not?”

“Because he’ll think you are protecting your lover.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what-”

“Did I miss something?” asked Stephanie, glancing from one to the other, her tone laced with obvious anticipation and excitement. “Lovers?”

“No,” they both shouted simultaneously.

“Too bad.” She went back to her salad. “That would be cool.”

Amber turned to Stephanie. “That would be tacky. You can’t sleep with a man you’ve barely met.” She silently commanded herself to pay close attention to those words.

“Sure you can,” Stephanie chirped with a grin.

“No,” Royce boomed at her. “You can’t.”

Stephanie giggled. “Good grief, you’re an easy mark. There’s nobody around here for me to sleep with anyway.”

Some of the fight went out of Royce’s posture, but his hand still gripped his phone.

Amber rubbed the tense hand. “Let it go.”

“It’s a firing offence.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“At least give it some thought first.” Barry had been a jerk, but she didn’t want anyone getting fired on her account. “Maybe ask around. See if this was an isolated incident.”

“He was rude to me this morning,” said Stephanie.

“You’re not helping,” Amber warned.

Royce folded his arms across his chest. “It was my decision to call him directly. He doesn’t get to second-guess me.”

“Did you explain the circumstances?”

“I don’t have to.”

“So, he made an assumption. You can’t fire a man for making an assumption.”

He pasted her with a sharp look. “You like being spoken to that way.”

“Of course not.” But she’d like being Royce’s lover. Heaven help her, she was pretty sure she’d like being Royce’s lover.

Their gazes locked and held for a long moment, and she could have sworn he was reading her mind.

“The lasagna’s getting cold,” Stephanie pointed out conversationally.

Royce ended the moment with a sharp nod. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“Sure,” Amber agreed, wondering if they were going to talk about Barry or about the energy that crackled between them like lightning.

In Royce’s mind, the issue was far from settled.

The storm had passed, leaving a bright moon behind. He closed the office door behind him for privacy, leaving Amber and Stephanie chatting out on the veranda, puppies scampering around them. He, on the other hand, flipped on the bright overhead light and crossed to the leather desk chair, snagging the desk phone and punching in Barry’s home number.

It was nearly midnight in Chicago, but he didn’t give a damn. Let the man wake up.

“Hello?” came a groggy, masculine voice.

“Barry?”

“Yes.”

“It’s Royce Ryder.”

“Yes?” A shot of energy snapped into Barry’s voice. “Anything wrong, Royce?”

There was plenty wrong. “Were you able to give Amber the information she needed?”

A pause. “I believe I did. Sally can cover anything else in the morning.”

Royce waited a beat. “When I called you earlier, it wasn’t because I wanted her to talk to Sally in the morning.” Full stop. More silence.

“Oh. Well…I assumed-”

“Did you or did you not answer Amber’s questions?” Royce repeated. And he could almost hear the wheels spinning inside Barry’s head.

“I don’t think you did,” Royce said into the silence. “And the reason I don’t think you did is because I was sitting right next to her during the call, and she didn’t get a chance to ask you any questions.” Once again, he stopped, giving Barry an opportunity to either contribute or sweat.

Hesitation was evident in the man’s voice. “Did she…Mmm. Is she there?”

“No. She’s not here . It’s eleven o’clock. The woman’s not working at eleven o’clock.”

Silence.

“Here’s my suggestion,” said Royce. “To solve the problem. You hop on a plane in the morning. The corporate jet is unavailable, so you’ll have to fly commercial. I’m thinking coach.” He picked up an unopened envelope from the desktop and tapped it against the polished oak surface, dropping all pretence of geniality. “You get your ass to the ranch, and you apologize to Ms. Hutton. Then you answer any and all of her questions.”

“I…But…Did you say Hutton?”

“David Hutton’s daughter. But that couldn’t matter less.”

“Royce. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize-”

“Apologize to her .”

“Of course.”

“You’ll be here tomorrow?”

“As soon as I can get there.”

Satisfied, Royce disconnected. Amber only needed to be sure funds would be available in the account. But that wasn’t the point anymore.

He gazed at the envelope in his hand. It was windowed. From North Pass Feed. Typical bill.

Curious after Amber’s concern about his credit rating, he slit it open. Then he glanced through the other piles she’d made, arming himself with some basic information on the ranch expenses.

Half an hour later, he thought he had a picture of the accounts payable situation, so he headed back down the hallway to find Amber and Stephanie in the front foyer.