Page 3 of Bucked


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And that’s what Canada will learn, if I have anything to say about it.

Three

Chastity

The sun is shining, sky is blue, it’s a perfect seventy degrees, and I’m d

riving to my interview at the restaurant. Lacey told me just to act normal. She said my natural charm would definitely take me through this interview with no problem—easy peasy. Said her boss, Jeremy, would totally like me. I am trying to believe her, but it’s not as simple as she seems to think. I tend to get a little nervous in situations like this. But it helps that I don’t need the job. Makes it less difficult when nothing’s really at stake but my pride.

Still my stupid brain has to poke at me. What if you really did need the job? Then how would you do? How would you manage on your own? How are you supposed to make it through life without your husband? Because you’re going to have to learn how, sooner or later.

I turn up the radio to pump myself up, and to drown out those voices in my brain. Taylor Swift is playing. “Shake It Off.” And that’s exactly what I’ve gotta think. Because no matter what, I do have to make it on my own—it’s not like I have an alternative.

I honk the horn of the guy ahead of me who’s been idling at the stoplight for a while. Maybe he’s going to a job interview too, as he seems just about as out of it as I do.

Of course I’m also a little distracted by the man I met over the weekend at the track. The cowboy sent both Lacey and me a drink, and Lacey said I should go over and talk to him, but I didn’t have the guts. He just said goodbye to me afterward, tipping his hat to me as he and his friend left, and I blushed from the tips of my feet to the top of my hair.

“So, Chastity, tell me, where do you see yourself in five years?”

Jeremy’s staring at my resume. I can’t read the expression on his face. Five years? Weeelll...no idea. My mind drifts to the man from the racetrack. Where do I see myself? I see myself married to that gorgeous, sexy man. Three kids? Maybe two, maybe four! And a golden retriever. I’m not picky!

“In five years?” I say out loud. “I’m not really sure, to be honest. I just moved here from up north, and honestly I’m a little bit more focused on the moment right now. Probably not what you want to hear when you ask that question, but it’s the truth. I suppose ideally I would like to see myself happy with my job, maybe have a little house with a garden…” I’m rambling now, but I’m not sure what else to do. I look up at Jeremy. His expression is bemused.

“Hey I get that,” he says. “That all sounds great. I’m not sure why we’re supposed to ask these specific questions anyway. I guess it gives us something to say if we’re stuck.” He pauses. “So… let me see here. What would you say is your greatest fault?” There’s a lightness in his voice. Maybe I am going to get this job after all.

Driving home, I wonder what my greatest fault really is. In the interview I said I was a people pleaser. I figured it might be the most positive fault for a waitress to have. But in all honesty it’s not exactly my greatest one. And now that I’m thinking about it, I’m looking deeper inside.

Jeffrey used to tell me my greatest faults—not in that language of course—were how impulsive I could be, and how I beat myself up over things that I didn’t have any control over. But what did he know? He always seemed in control when he was alive. He was the kind of guy that had everything mapped out. If he had been asked where he saw himself in five years, he could have given a PowerPoint presentation on it, complete with soundtrack. But with what I know now, he was never really all that happy.

And all I’ve got is Taylor Swift. Maybe a new waitressing job. And a fantasy.

Lacey is on the phone, and she wants to know if I want to go out tonight. And not just anywhere, she wants to know if I want to go to the rodeo.

“This your first rodeo, Chastity?” I imagine Kanen saying, in that sweet-tea voice of his, as he puts his index finger under my chin, tips my face up, and covers my mouth with his kisses.

“Yeah I’m not sure,” I say back to Lacey, “I kinda have a lot to do around the house.” Of course, it’s just a lame excuse and she jumps on it right away.

“A lot to do, is that right? A lot of watching TV? A lot of cleaning the bathroom? A lot of picking your nose?”

“Nothing wrong with that,” I say. “Well, everything but the last one.”

She laughs, though she’s not far off and she knows it.

“You know what I think about ‘you got a lot to do’?” She’s going in for the kill now and I cringe, waiting for her to poke me. “I think you got a whole lot of living to do, girlfriend. And we could start now.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I capitulate. “What time do we need to be there?”

“Not sure. I’ll pick you up around six? That should give us time to get drinks beforehand,” she says.

I guess there’s no avoiding it. I want to ask if it’s a night when Kanen is going to ride? But I know she’ll make mincemeat out of me for that one. And I wouldn’t blame her one bit. And let’s be honest, that’s why she wants me to go.

When I go to my closet, I find myself choosing my sexiest blouse and the soft blue jeans that make my legs look as long as can be. I’m even gonna break out my new cowboy boots. They’re gorgeous. Hand-tooled leather, black, with eagle stitching. Toes so pointed you could put out a snake’s eye with them. At least that’s what the salesman said.

I plug in the curling wand, and start to do my makeup. I find myself putting on a little extra mascara and blush. I’m not sure why. The last thing I want to do is draw the eye of that dangerous man. But somehow, the makeup seems like armor. Like it could protect me. I’m not sure from what. When I almost poke myself in the eye with the mascara, I figure I should probably stop. Sigh. I’ve always been a bit clumsy.

When all is said and done, though, I have to say I look pretty damn good. I even turn around and check out my butt in the mirror. Not bad.

I find myself making finger guns in the mirror, while saying, “You still got it, girl!” and I’m immediately ashamed. I’m shaking my damn head. Does anyone else embarrass themselves when they’re alone?

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