Barbara Dunlop: The Last Cowboy Standing

“I did.”

They joined the long line snaking out of the small coffee shop.

“Nice offer?” he pressed.

“Did you have something to do with that?”

Randal held up his palms in a gesture of innocence. “I wish I had that kind of clout.”

She checked his expression, not sure whether she was buying it or not. “You didn’t bring me to the partners’ attention?”

“I did not. I think they were impressed by the Schneider Pistole merger.”

Danielle still wasn’t convinced. “And how did they know about Schneider and Pistole?”

“Everybody knows about Schneider and Pistole. You successfully navigated some very protectionist waters. Bookmakers were giving it seven to one against.”

“Very funny.”

The line moved ahead, and they squeezed to one side to let departing patrons get past. The aromas of icing and cinnamon teased Danielle’s senses. She’d told herself to go with a whole grain, fruit muffin. But the sweet confection was tempting.

Randal’s attention went to the menu board near the ceiling. “I was saying to Laura just last week—”

“Is Laura one of the partners?” Danielle found it hard to believe he’d had nothing to do with the offer.

“Laura’s my girlfriend.”

“You have a girlfriend?”

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

“I thought...I mean...” Danielle didn’t quite know where to go with this. She’d assumed he wanted to rekindle things with her. Had her ego led her that far astray?

“I’m a young, decently intelligent, decently looking man with a bright professional future.”

“Of course you are.” But the declaration sounded artificial even to her own ears.

Randal chuckled. “You should come to D.C., Danielle. It’s where all the action is.”

“There’s a lot going on in Chicago, too.”

They came to the counter.

“Why do I get the feeling you’ve maxed out there?” He looked to the clerk. “Two large coffees, one with cream and sugar, one black.” Then he raised his brow to Danielle. “That still right?”

She nodded. She still sweetened and softened her coffee.

“I’ll take a blueberry bran muffin,” she told the young woman.

“Same for me,” said Randal, reaching for his wallet.

“You don’t have to buy.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you saw the number of zeros on my bonus check.”

The clerk grinned brightly at his joke as she rang in their order, obviously aware that she was serving a good-looking, successful guy.

“That explains the Fendi suit,” said Danielle.

“Come and work with me. The salary they quoted is only the beginning.”

“I’m thinking about it,” she admitted, accepting one of the cardboard cups, and balancing the muffin in her other hand.

“Good.” His smile went wide.

There was a momentary, overly friendly glint in his eye that gave her pause. But she quickly squelched her suspicion. The man had a girlfriend. The idea that he was still pining over her after all these years was ridiculous.

Still, as they started to walk away, he touched her elbow, and something familiar moved up her spine. She shook off the ridiculous reaction, stepping to one side. It was over between them. He had another girlfriend. And she was absolutely not one of those women who took another look at her ex as soon as he was taken by somebody else.

She took a nibble of the dense, molasses-based muffin as she navigated her way through the milling crowd. As she moved into the big lobby, a movement flashed at the corner of her eye. She turned her head and scanned the cavernous space. Suddenly, her gaze caught and held, a sensual awareness washing through her in earnest.

She swallowed.

Travis was leaning indolently against a marble pillar. He should have looked out of place in a plaid Western shirt and faded blue jeans amidst a sea of dark, designer suits, but he didn’t. Somehow, the lawyers looked out of place around him.

“How’s the muffin?” asked Randal, his voice startling her.

“Mmm. Good.” She gave an appreciative nod.

Randal glanced at his watch, making a right turn toward the meeting room. “We’d better hurry.”

“I guess.” She wondered why Travis was here so early in the morning. In fact, why was he here at all? Last night, he’d told her he was staying at the Blonde Desert just off the Strip.

She half expected him to approach them. But he didn’t. Just stood here, watching, a half smile on his face.

“Dani?” Randal prompted, stopping a half step ahead.

For some reason his voice was starting to grate.

“I’m coming,” she answered, peering at Travis a moment longer.

Then she determinedly went ahead, setting a course for the panel discussion, determined to ignore Travis’s presence, but fully aware of his form in her peripheral vision.

She wondered if he had a cell phone. If she knew the number, she could send him a text and ask him what he was doing in the hotel. It occurred to her that Caleb likely knew. She could text Caleb and ask him for Travis’s cell. Would that be weird?

“Over there,” said Randal, as they moved with the flow of the crowd through a set of double doors.

Astrid was waving at them from a classroom style table, on the aisle, halfway up the room. Seats were filling fast, and the panel participants were taking their places at the front of the room. Danielle parked her shoulder bag under the table and took the seat next to Astrid. She draped her purse over the back of the chair, while Randal sat down next to her. Odette and Nadine arrived, and they squished one more chair into the table, pushing Randal’s shoulder against Danielle’s.

“Just like old times,” he joked in her ear, harkening back to their days in law school.

Astrid leaned forward, looking across Danielle to answer Randal. “At least we don’t have to write the bar exam this time.”

Randal gave her an easy smile.

The moderator spoke into the microphone, asking people to get settled, and the rest of the audience quickly took their seats.

Though the speakers were well-versed in their specialties, and the debate was lively, Danielle couldn’t get her mind off Travis, wondering if he was still in the lobby, and what had brought him there in the first place.

Two hours in, when one of the audience members wandered off on an arcane point of law to do with protocols for the functioning of supranational tribunals, she gave in and slipped from her seat. Randal looked surprised and none too pleased at having to move his seat to let her pass. She took her purse but left her shoulder bag, letting everyone think she was going to the ladies’ room.

She’d be right back. The odds that Travis was still out there were overwhelmingly small.

But, there he was.

One of the uniformed women had stepped out from behind the now-empty conference check-in desk and was talking and laughing with him. His gaze lifted, and he caught sight of Danielle. She stopped, not exactly sure what to do. She could still pretend she was going to the ladies’ room, avoid even acknowledging him.

He didn’t move, and neither did she.

Finally, she decided this was ridiculous. She wanted to know what he was doing here, and she’d go and ask him. She started across the mostly empty space, occupied only by hotel and conference staff, and the odd delegate who, like her, had stepped temporarily out of their session.

Her heels clicked on the marble floor. She was conscious of every step. Travis’s face was impassive, but he kept watching as she grew closer.

“Sounds good,” he said to the young, blonde woman. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Then he nodded to Danielle. “Hi there.”

The woman watched over her shoulder with obvious curiosity as she moved back to the long registration table.