Barbara Dunlop
An After-Hours Affair
A book in the Texas Cattleman's Club: The Showdown series, 2011
Dear Reader,
I was thrilled to be invited to participate in the Texas Cattleman’s Club continuity series for Harlequin Desire. I’ve long been a fan of Harlequin’s multi-book, multi-author series. I love cowboys, and I have some very dear friends in Texas. This project was great fun on so many levels, not the least of which was a visit to Texas while I was writing!
Mitch Hayward’s professional football career has been interrupted by an injury. While he recovers, he’s taken on the role of president of the Texas Cattleman’s Club. There, he’s reunited with office assistant Jenny Watson, who’s had a crush on Mitch since high school. When Jenny undergoes a makeover, Mitch sits up and takes notice, and the sparks fly between them.
I sincerely hope you enjoy An After-Hours Affair, along with the rest of the TCC continuity series. I’d love to hear from you, so please feel free to drop me a line through my website at www.barbaradunlop.com.
Barbara Dunlop
For Marcelle
in honor of our final writers conference
One
Jenny Watson knew a bad idea when she heard one.
“It’s not a date,” she tartly informed her best friend, Emily Kiley, kicking off her shoes and curling one jean-clad leg beneath her on Emily’s bed.
Emily called from the depths of her closet. “Just because he doesn’t call it a date, doesn’t mean you can’t look your best.”
“He’s my boss. And it’s a business function.”
“It’s a wedding.”
“A Texas Cattleman’s Club wedding,” Jenny corrected. “And he was invited in his capacity as Interim President.”
Emily emerged from the closet carrying something made of dark burgundy chiffon. “I was thinking this one.” She draped the dress along her body, revealing a one-shoulder, sleeveless creation with a wide-fitted waist, and a two-layer, A-line skirt that dropped to midthigh.
“Ha, ha,” Jenny mocked, leaning back against the oak headboard.
Emily knew full well that Jenny would never touch a style that was so off-the-runway sophisticated, and she’d definitely never wear a color that bold.
“It’ll look great with an updo.” Emily swirled around to the corners of the room as if she was waltzing. “You can borrow my black rhinestone sandals. And I’ve got those fabulous teardrop earrings and the matching necklace. The diamonds are synthetic, but there’s no way to tell.”
“I’m not wearing that dress,” Jenny insisted.
“Why not?”
“Do you need me to write you a list?”
“Come on,” Emily cajoled. “Live a little, girl. You’ll look gorgeous, and Mitch will absolutely sit up and take notice.”
“I’ll look foolish.” Jenny wasn’t showing up in front of her friends and neighbors in Royal, Texas, looking like some kind of Manhattan diva. “There’s nothing wrong with my black dress.”
It was her perennial favorite-a sleeveless, square-necked jersey knit that flowed to her knees. She combined it with a short, sheer black cover that fastened at her throat. It was the perfect combination of classic and chic.
“And how many times has Mitch Hayward seen you in that?”
“A couple,” Jenny admitted, seeing no need to do the math.
Mitch didn’t care what she wore. He wanted an uncomplicated woman on his arm, someone to help him work the event. Her boss liked to keep tabs on the members of the Texas Cattleman’s Club. He prided himself on recalling details of everyone’s lives, and Jenny knew she was a big help in that department.
“You’ve had a crush on him since you were twelve,” Emily pointed out.
“‘Crush’ being the operative word,” Jenny put in. And it had been over a long time ago. “The man left town when I was only sixteen.”
Quarterback Mitch Hayward had gone to college in Dallas on a full football scholarship. He’d come back to work in Royal for the first two summers. But after that, his successful sports career had kept him on the road. Up until last year, when a shoulder injury had brought him back home.
“He’s been back for twelve months,” Emily pointed out.
“That long?” Jenny plucked at the bedspread, pretending she didn’t remember the exact date, the exact hour, the exact minute Mitch Hayward had returned to Royal. “I guess time flies.”
Emily plunked down on the bed beside her. “You are such a bad liar.”
Jenny heaved a sigh, feeling the need to inject some reality into the situation. “I am not going to make a fool of myself by dressing up for Mitch.”
“Then dress up for Rick Pruitt and Sadie Price.” Emily referred to the bride and groom. Rick was a longtime member of the Texas Cattleman’s Club and well respected throughout the region.
“Like they’re going to care what I’m wearing,” said Jenny.
Since Rick had rushed off to Houston in July to bring Sadie and their two-year-old twins back home to Royal, the ecstatic couple had eyes only for each other.
Emily reached out to grasp Jenny’s forearm, her voice taking on a tone of urgency. “It’s do or die, Jen.”
Talk about melodramatic. “Do or die, what?”
“I’ve watched you pine away over him for a year now. Either make a play for Mitch, or start dating other guys.”
“I’m not pining away.”
But as Emily stated the bald truth, Jenny felt her chest tighten and her stomach contract with apprehension. All year long, she’d tried desperately to ignore her attraction to Mitch, telling herself it was a childhood crush that she was long since over.
“You’re about to turn thirty,” said Emily.
“So are you.”
“That’s right. And I have a plan.”
“A plan for turning thirty?”
“A plan for my life,” said Emily, her gaze taking on a dreamy quality and drifting to the window behind Jenny. “If I don’t meet a man, the man…” Then she frowned, and her eyes narrowed. “Well, at least a man who might be the man, by my birthday next month, I’m going to have a baby anyway.”
Jenny straightened in shock. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “A single mom? Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea-”
“I want children.”
“I know from experience how bad that can turn out.”
“We’re not talking about your childhood.” Emily glanced at her watch and hopped up from the bed. “In fact, we’re still talking about the wedding tonight. I can tell you, if I had a thing for a guy like Mitch, and if that guy was anywhere within a hundred miles of here, I’d damn well be doing something about it.”
“You would not.”
“I would.” Emily nodded decisively. “Come on, Jen. What’s the risk? He doesn’t notice, no harm done. You simply showed up to some friends’ wedding in a nice dress. But if he notices, it’s a whole new ball game.”
“If he doesn’t notice,” Jenny began, telling herself it was an academic argument, since she wasn’t really considering the dress, “then it’s game over.”
Compassion rose in Emily’s blue eyes. “If he doesn’t notice you in this, it was game over anyway. Wouldn’t you rather know?”
Jenny started to shake her head, but then she stopped. Did she truly want to spend the next year, or two, or three, longing for a man who wasn’t remotely interested in her? Would she rather keep the fantasy alive, or would she rather face the truth, no matter how hurtful?
“If he’s not into you, Jen, then you can move on. You have to move on.”
Jenny catalogued her options, considering every angle as dispassionately as humanly possible. But, despite her efforts to be strictly analytical, her emotions crowded in. Her heart rate increased, heat prickling her skin, as she silently admitted Emily’s advice had merit.