One
Before she’d moved to Royal, Texas, few people had ever done Brandee Lawless any favors. If this had left her with an attitude of “you’re damned right I can,” she wasn’t going to apologize. She spoke her mind and sometimes that ruffled feathers. Lately those feathers belonged to a trio of women new to the Texas Cattleman’s Club. Cecelia Morgan, Simone Parker and Naomi Price had begun making waves as soon as they’d been accepted as members and Brandee had opposed them at every turn.
Her long legs made short work of the clubhouse foyer and the hallway leading to the high-ceilinged dining room where she and her best friend, Chelsea Hunt, were having lunch. At five feet five inches, she wasn’t exactly an imposing figure, but she knew how to make an entrance.
Instead of her usual denim, boots, work shirt and cowboy hat, Brandee wore a gray fit-and-flare sweater dress with lace inset cuffs over a layered tulle slip, also in gray. She’d braided sections of her long blond hair and fastened them with rhinestone-encrusted bobby pins. She noted three pair of eyes watching her progress across the room and imagined the women assessing her outfit. To let them know she wasn’t the least bit bothered, Brandee made sure she took her time winding through the diners on her way to the table by the window.
Chelsea looked up from the menu as she neared. Her green eyes widened. “Wow, you look great.”
Delighted by her friend’s approval, Brandee smiled. “Part of the new collection.” In addition to running one of the most profitable ranches in Royal, Texas, Brandee still designed a few pieces of clothing and accessories for the fashion company she’d started twelve years earlier. “What do you think of the boots?”
“I’m sick with jealousy.” Chelsea eyed the bright purple Tres Outlaws and grinned. “You are going to let me borrow them, I hope.”
“Of course.”
Brandee sat down, basking in feminine satisfaction. With all the hours she put in working her ranch, most saw her as a tomboy. Despite a closet full of frivolous, girlie clothes, getting dressed up for the sole purpose of coming into town for a leisurely lunch was a rare occurrence. But this was a celebration. Her first monthlong teenage outreach session was booked solid. This summer Hope Springs Camp was going to make a difference in those kids’ lives.
“You made quite an impression on the terrible trio.” Chelsea tipped her head to indicate the three newly minted members of the Texas Cattleman’s Club. “They’re staring at us and whispering.”
“No doubt hating on what I’m wearing. I don’t know why they think I care what they say about me.”
It was a bit like being in high school, where the pretty, popular girls ganged up on anyone they viewed as easy prey. Not that Brandee was weak. In fact, her standing in the club and in the community was strong.
“It’s pack mentality,” Brandee continued. “On their own they feel powerless, but put them in a group and they’ll tear you apart.”
“I suppose
it doesn’t help that you’re more successful than they are.”
“Or that I’ve been blocking their attempts to run this club like their personal playground. All this politicking is such a distraction. I’d much rather spend my time holed up at Hope Springs, working the ranch.”
“I’m sure they’d prefer that, as well. Especially when you show up looking like this.” Chelsea gestured to Brandee’s outfit. “You look like a million bucks. They must hate it.”
“Except I’m wearing a very affordable line of clothing. I started the company with the idea that I wanted the price points to be within reach of teenagers and women who couldn’t afford to pay the designer prices.”
“I think it’s more the way you wear your success. You are confident without ever having to build yourself up or tear someone else down.”
“It comes from accepting my flaws.”
“You have flaws?”
Brandee felt a rush of affection for her best friend. An ex-hacker and present CTO of the Hunt & Co. chain of steak houses, Chelsea was the complete package of brains and beauty. From the moment they’d met, Brandee had loved her friend’s kick-ass attitude.
“Everyone has things about themselves they don’t like,” Brandee said. “My lips are too thin and my ears stick out. My dad used to say they were good for keeping my hat from going too low and covering my eyes.”
As always, bringing up her father gave Brandee a bittersweet pang. Until she’d lost him to a freak accident when she was twelve, he’d been her world. From him she’d learned how to run a ranch, and the joys of hard work and a job well done. Without his voice in her head, she never would’ve had the courage to run from the bad situation with her mother at seventeen and to become a successful rancher.
“But you modeled your own designs for your online store,” Chelsea exclaimed. “How did you do that if you were so uncomfortable about how you looked?”
“I think what makes us stand out is what makes us interesting. And memorable. Think of all those gorgeous beauty queens competing in pageants. The ones you remember are those who do something wrong and get called out or who overcome disabilities to compete.”
“So the three over there are forgettable?” With a minute twitch of her head, Chelsea indicated the trio of mean girls.
“As far as I’m concerned.” Brandee smiled. “And I think they know it. Which is why they work so hard to be noticed.”
She’d barely finished speaking when a stir in the air raised her hackles. A second later a tall, athletically built man appeared beside their table, blocking their view of the three women. Shane Delgado. Brandee had detected his ruggedly masculine aftershave a second before she saw him.
“Hey, Shane.” Chelsea’s earlier tension melted away beneath the mega wattage of Shane’s charismatic white grin. Brandee resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Shane would love seeing proof that he’d gotten to her.
“Good to see you, Chelsea.” His smooth Texas drawl had a trace of New England in it. “Hello, Brandee.”
She greeted him without looking in his direction. “Delgado.” She kept her tone neutral and disinterested, masking the way her body went on full alert in his presence.
“You’re looking particularly gorgeous today.”
Across from her, Chelsea glanced with eyebrows raised from Shane to Brandee and back.
“You’re not so bad yourself.” She didn’t need to check out his long legs in immaculate denim jeans or the crisp tan shirt that emphasized his broad shoulders to know the man looked like a million bucks. “Something I can do for you, Delgado?” She hated that she was playing into his hands by asking, but he wouldn’t move on until he’d had his say.