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When Dolly hung up, all LeAnn could do was stare at her phone. Acid churned in her stomach, making her decision to have the hamburger platter seem like a really bad idea. “How much did you hear?”
“All of it,” Dylan said grimly. “If he wants to say I beat the shit out of him, I’m about to make that a reality.”
“The damage has been done,” she said quietly. “He knew what he was doing. He wanted to mess up this chance for us because he’s a spiteful little shit.”
“He’ll get his,” Dylan said.
“Look, I’m not feeling so well. Do you mind if we get out of here? I want to go home and see if I can make it up to Dolly.”
“Sure. I’ll go pay the check.” Dylan got up and flagged down their waitress to meet him at the register.
This sucked. They were back to square one with their finances. Dylan was that much further away from the ranch he wanted, and she was staring down bankruptcy if she couldn’t bring in more prize money. LeAnn took a shaky breath. She’d really thought it was going to work out for her. She’d thought if she had just concentrated on the rodeo, the sponsorship would take care of itself. But Sierra Boots wanted an image that was just not her. It could have been, though. If she had changed herself, and played the role they wanted her to play for the entire year. Maybe that asshole Mick and his little bitch Debbi had done her and Dylan a favor.
After Dylan drove her back to the Winnebago, he gave her a long hug and kissed her sweetly.
“Do you want to come in?” she asked, her toes curling in those damned uncomfortable boots.
“No, I don’t want to rile Dolly up any more than she is already.”
“Where are you staying tonight?”
“I’m just going to sleep in the truck. I’ll meet you in Guthrie tomorrow morning for practice.”
“Yeah,” she said. She would just have to practice harder. If Sierra Boots didn’t want her, that didn’t mean another sponsor wouldn’t snap her up if she won more events.
He stroked her cheek and she leaned into the caress. She wished they were staying in a hotel together, but it was probably for the best that they saved the money for gas. “Sweet dreams, sweetheart. Don’t let this get you down.”
“I’ll be all right,” she said. She hoped. She watched him drive away and then with a deep shuddering sigh, she walked into the Winnebago.
She was surprised to see Dolly, Reba, and Merry Grayson crammed around their tiny dinner table doing shots.
“There she is,” Merry said, and poured her a glass of Fireball whiskey.
“I’m sorry,” LeAnn said and hugged Dolly.
“Hey, easy come, easy go.” Dolly hiccupped.
“Here’s hoping Mick gets hemorrhoids,” Reba said, clinking glasses with all of them.
“Or a blistering case of herpes,” Merry chimed in.
“Intense gastric distress,” Dolly slurred.
“All of the above.” LeAnn drank her shot.
She sank on to her bed.
“Look on the bright side,” Merry said, waving the bottle. “At least you get to drink.”
LeAnn tried for a smile and failed.
Sitting next to her, Reba slung her arm around her shoulder and hugged her. “You didn’t really want them as a sponsor anyway. Too many rules. It would have been like living with Mom and Dad again. Remember those days?”
Rolling her eyes, LeAnn felt a smile tug at her lips. “I try not to think of it.”
“And you get to kiss that hot-stuff bull rider all you want now,” Merry said.
“What I’m really glad about is that I no longer have to wear these uncomfortable things.” LeAnn tugged off those stupid boots and tossed them on the ground. “I was trying so hard to be what they wanted me to be. I used to be the WPRC’s sweetheart.”
