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Thankfully, I could hear the smile in his voice when he responded. “How are you going to hold the reins on your horse?”
It took me a minute to get the joke. “Har, har. You know very well I mean ranch hands. These boys have aspirations of grandeur when all I want is someone with a heartbeat and four working limbs. Leave the brains and ambition at home. Don’t suppose you have an ex-boyfriend somewhere in your past looking for work?”
I’d thrown the question out as a joke. Oscar traveled in a super-elite set with men who owned yachts, planes, and houses in the Hamptons. He probably hadn’t met someone capable of manual labor in years. And he certainly hadn’t dated them.
His voice sounded funny when he finally answered, “Actually… You know what? Now that I think about it, I might. Would an ex of an ex suit your purposes?”
“I was joking,” I told him as I pushed to my feet and started into the house so I could pack my things and hit the trail.
“No, wait. Hear me out.” He was definitely scheming. I knew the sound well since it had usually preceded me getting detention or grounded as a kid. Whatever he was cooking up was probably trouble.
“Nope.” I gave a quick wave to Norma, the ranch’s cook and all-around indispensable housekeeper, before ducking into my bedroom. “I don’t need some fancy-ass city boy showing up here hoping to take a tumble with a cowboy,” I told Oscar. “There’s no time for that, not to mention no cowboy to tumble. I sure as shit won’t fuck one of my own hands.”
The sentence repeated in my head as Oscar began to cackle. “That’s not what you said a minute ago,” he singsonged. “Listen, the guy I’m thinking of is a fancy-ass city boy. But he needs a lesson on working in the real world, and I can’t think of a better place to learn hard work than on a heap of cow shit.”
“I appreciate your description of my multimillion-dollar cattle operation,” I muttered as I grabbed a couple of clean shirts, socks, and underwear out of my dresser drawers. “You’re a true friend.”
“Since when have you ever needed an ego stroke? Seriously, Boone, hear me out about this. You remember my ex James? Well, he dated this guy named Richard for years and always swore the man had potential if he could just figure his shit out. Personally, I was never very convinced because Richard always came across as a privileged ass to me—”
“Sounds like exactly the kind of guy I don’t need around here.”
“—but even though James is engaged now, he still has a soft spot for the guy. He asked me to help Richard out, and you hiring him just temporarily—let’s say, for a month—would be the perfect solution. A win-win. James would be happy that Richard had an opportunity, and I’d be happy imagining Richard up to his knees in horse shit.”
I frowned. “I don’t see how I win in this situation.”
“You get your extra hand. Plus, you’d be doing me a favor, and I would owe you one. A big one.”
I snorted. Oscar was loyal to a fault, even when it came to his exes, which was probably why he’d remained on friendly terms with nearly every guy he’d dated over the years. But his desire to help James and me didn’t mean that his suggestion was in Richard’s best interest… or mine, ultimately.
“Thanks, but no, thanks. I don’t need any favors. What I need is someone willing to do some work around here. Why don’t you come and slum it for a while? You act all prissy, but I know you can actually put your muscles where your mouth is, if properly motivated.” And it wasn’t as though Oscar wasn’t familiar with farm work. He’d grown up in the same rural Texas town as I had, after all.
“Oh, and I would,” he said airily, lying through his teeth. “I totally would… if I hadn’t already made this very important, er… social commitment… at a world-renowned resort. It’s a luxury villa in the water, Boone. I can hardly say no to that.”
“Of course not,” I said dryly. It really did amaze me sometimes how completely different Oscar’s life was from my own. “I don’t want your rich friends playing cowboy. Forget I said anything about needing a ranch hand.”
I finished packing my bag and made my way back to the kitchen, where Norma had left me a plate covered in plastic wrap next to a soft-sided cooler packed for the overnight trip. After sticking the plate into the microwave, I grabbed a cold soda from the fridge.
Oscar’s laugh was light and happy, back to the fun-loving man I knew. “All right, suit yourself. But if anything changes, let me know.”
