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“Major, he’s all yours for the rest of the night. Take good care of him,” I told the dog as I slipped quietly out the front door and headed for the soft glow of my newly lit path back to the guest house. Some part of me saw the lights he’d ordered and wanted to turn back around and ask Atley to scrub my back, wash my hair, and let me help make dinner. Damn it, thoughtfulness was so freaking hot.
At my place, I crouched down for a full fluffy dog welcome from Georgie as soon as I stepped in the door.
“You’re the only man I need.” The dog rolled over, and I scratched his belly.
“You’re not giving me orgasms, but you are the best company. Atley can do the sexy in-bed stuff and you can do the rest. Right, pretty boy?”
Georgie scampered across the room and returned with his favorite toy, a long purple snake that he liked to play tug with. I took one end, and he pulled and growled for all his worth.
“Yep, I’m screwed… looking for advice from two dogs… both male.” This calls for wine.
In my beige Formica kitchen, I found a wine glass and a bottle of Blue Star’s red blend. I popped the cork and poured myself a healthy glass. I considered options for a female perspective on tonight’s… shit show seemed harsh…fiasco? Incident? Meltdown?
Friends in Chicago were mostly work or dog park friends. Not the kind of acquaintances you talked to about one-night stands that turned complicated. My brother and Cameron were a big fat no since they were in California doing disgustingly romantic things like ring shopping. And I wasn’t keen to tell my brother about Atley and me yet.
But…
I checked the time. Not that late for a woman running a bar. And who would give better advice than a third-generation bartender? Her DNA had to be encoded with the sympathetic ear gene. I pulled up Lara’s number and fired off a text message.
Rae: I need some girl time.
I had time to enjoy a few sips of wine and drag out some cheese and crackers before I got a reply.
Lara: There is a lot of testosterone on that ranch.
Rae: Even the dogs
Lara: How does shopping, day drinking, and music sound?
Rae: Sign me up.
Lara: The Elmer Arts and Oddities Fest is tomorrow, and my son is still at summer camp. Meet me there at 11 am, gate 3. First can of beer is on me!
I sent back a yes and a string of silly emojis. Beer and shopping worked for me.
After all the orgasms, I should have been sleepy, but I was restless and not ready for a shower or bed. I blamed that last three-quarters of an orgasm. With my snack and wine in hand, I headed to the dining table where I had my laptop set up.
I scrolled through my email deleting junk and spam until I found an email from my web designer. She included a link to let me preview the final version of the Blue Star Wines website she had created. The site looked exactly like what she and I had discussed. Great pictures of the ranch, but not so many as to be distracting. She’d used white space and simple menus to keep the user on track, funneling them on one of two paths: either buy wine or event tickets.
I tried buying both tickets and wine, and the site functioned flawlessly. I emailed her back telling her to make it live. It was time to start selling tickets. These contractors better be everything that Atley promised; otherwise, my guests were going to be disappointed.
And boom, I was back to thinking about Atley. I pulled open an internet search window and typed: Rivers Ranch Texas. I’d like to say I hesitated a moment before clicking search and invading his privacy, but I didn’t. The first few listings were for a housing development near Dallas, I scrolled past them until I found an article from Texas Monthly Magazine: “The Evolution of Rivers Ranch.”
When the page loaded, a full-width banner image showing a man with silver-white hair and Atley’s gray eyes sitting on a brown and white horse filled the screen. Row after row of suburban track homes spread over the vista behind him.
The profile was a rich to richer story about a man who transformed his generations-old cattle ranch into so much more. No son was mentioned in the story, but a vast fortune was hinted at. Money from restaurants and real estate. Another picture showed the entrance to the Rivers Ranch development. It was a super-sized, commercialized version of the modest sign that had been in Atley’s childhood photo.
I sat back and refilled my wine. Martin Rivers had to be Atley’s relative, maybe his father or uncle.
I hit Google like a woman possessed, trying to confirm the tie between Atley and Martin. Martin was everywhere online, a slick curated social media presence obviously run by a PR firm. Pictures of him and his current much younger wife at charity parties and sports events.
Atley’s digital footprint could hardly be called that, it was more like a thumbprint. Horse show and rodeo results. An online resume and a short bio on the Blue Star website. I assumed he wasn’t the type to spend much time looking at a screen; he didn’t even have a TV in his bedroom. But wow, it was almost like he’d tried to disappear.
Chapter 13
Rae
“Hey, honey. I hearthings are going very well for you at Blue Star.” Wanda winked at me. The action magnified by her cat-eye glasses into something almost comical.
