Page 1 of My Cowboy Kiss
Chapter 1
Courtney
I flip the visor down to check my appearance in the mirror. Scowling at the shadows beneath my eyes, I reach into my bag to grab my concealer. I slept through my alarm this morning thanks to my drunk wreck of a mother. I had to pry her off the floor of yet another bar where she’d worn out her welcome. It was three in the morning before I chased off the latest asshole crashing in her house and got her settled. Then I drove back to Lucky River, and it took me forever to fall asleep.
“Thank God I finished that big project yesterday,” I mutter to myself as I finish applying the concealer. I pop it into my bag and square my shoulders reminding myself to stand tall the way I always have since my mom’s drunken antics started making the town news when I was a teenager. Growing up living with her is why I don’t trust love or relationships.
I grope around in the cup holder for my usual latte then remember because I was running late, I had to skip my usual run. I’ll just have to get my fix inside. Hopefully Mark has already gotten his coffee so I won’t bump into him.
As soon as I enter Red Stilettos marketing company, I swear the temperature is about twenty degrees cooler than the warm June day outside the front door.
I greet everyone but no one responds.Weird.I look down at my outfit. I’m wearing my usual work attire—dress slacks and a pretty blouse. I’m not in my fuzzy pajamas like my tired brain feared.
“Uh oh. Did I leave something undone last night?” I’m in charge of the campaign featuring Dough Corner’s one of a kind of cinnamon rolls. I could’ve sworn I triple checked everything before I sent the work off to the art director. We’ve all put in a lot of long hours lately and if I accidentally dropped the ball before a big deadline, my coworkers would not be happy with me.
“Haven’t you been online since you left yesterday?” Stacy asks, crossing her arms and giving me that look like she’s royalty speaking to a commoner.
She’s been a thorn in my side—which is the polite Southern way of saying pain in my ass—since I started working here. Apparently, her cousin was fired from the graphic designer position I took over.
“No, I haven’t. I was busy.” Busy. That’s the word I’ve been using since I was in high school cleaning up my mom’s man-stealing messes.I can’t hang out, I’m busy. I won’t be at the game, I’m busy.
“I’ll bet you werebusy,” Stacy says rolling her eyes.
What the ever-loving fuck is going on with her today? She’s more Stacy than usual.Ignoring her, I head into the kitchen to get some coffee. I drop a pod into the machine, and it starts brewing my sweet nectar. I’m inhaling the life-saving scent when Mark strolls in.
He’s one of those middle-aged guys who never left high school behind. Unfortunately, he’s also one of the people my boss Allison labeled “an integral part of the company” and she hinted she might take him on as a business partner, so I try not to get on his bad side.
“Looking good, Courty.”
I grit my teeth at the nickname he thinks is funny and move aside so he can reach into the cabinet for a mug. His usual overpowering cologne assaults my senses.
He gets a cup down then taps a finger on my forearm. Leaning closer, he whispers, “Say the word and I’ll be glad to help you out.”
Whatever the problem is with the project, he’s the last person I’d ask anything from. “I’ll take care of it myself.”Creep.
His eyes widen and he smirks as he draws back. “Ooh…what I wouldn’t give to see that.”
Shaking my head, I carry the warm cup between my hands as I go to my desk. Instead of sticking with the old town charm of Lucky River like most businesses did, this building has been updated and modernized with high-end flooring and white walls that are covered with large canvas prints of my boss. The only thing she loves more than money is herself.
I sit in the funky art deco chair with its unyielding, narrow seat that Allison insists makes a statement. I’m sure the statement is that she has no concern for anyone’s comfort.
Kicking off my flats and pushing them under the desk, I yawn and click the file to pull up the project from yesterday. After I take a sip of coffee, I begin scanning my work, looking for anything I might have missed.
Stacy materializes by me like a wraith. “Check the town business forum.”
Her twisted smile says she’s loving whatever she’s holding back.
I pull the site up andthere I am. I stifle a gasp not willing to give Stacy the satisfaction of knowing how stunned I am. “What is this?”
A photo of me walking closely behind Allison’s boyfriend pops up. I’m smiling at his back because he just told me he’s going to propose to my boss next weekend. He’s planning anelaborate proposal that’s sure to be the talk of the town, which will make her very happy.
Beneath the photo, one comment readsCourtney Evans is so desperate for men, she’s stalking this one.
Another commenter tags my boss on social media and repliesLooks like she’s up to her old tricks again. Like mother, like daughter.
Comment after comment slashes at me.
My face burns and the sip of coffee churns in the pit of my stomach. This is just like in high school when my mom showed up drunk and stumbled onto the stage during a school assembly. There’s nowhere to hide from the cruelty.
