Chapter Two
Jessie Pierce scowled as her phone buzzed a third time. She’d ignore it completely, but the thought that it might be a client forced her to turn her gaze from the computer screen in front of her and pick up her cell phone.
“Good afternoon, Rose Above Graphics. How may I assist you today?” She spoke in a clear, friendly manner as she grabbed a pen and prepared to jot down notes.
“Is this Jessica Pierce?” a female voice inquired.
“It is. May I help you?”
“Oh, I hope so, Miss Pierce.” The voice held an unmistakable hint of humor. “Do you reside at this address?” The caller rattled off Jessie’s home address, right down to her apartment number.
“That’s correct,” Jessie replied, growing concerned. She rarely gave out her home address, using a post office box for her graphic design customers.
“Excellent. Would you confirm your date of birth?” the woman on the other end of the line asked.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t give out that information on the phone to perfect strangers.” Jessie didn’t know if she should hang up or wait to see what the telemarketer would say next. She’d answered similar calls before. Annoying as they were, they were also mildly entertaining, especially if she flustered the caller by asking them questions.
Just last week, a man who spoke with a thick accent called, trying to convince her he was from tech support and needed to work on her computer. The scammer claimed all she had to provide was her login information for her email and a credit card number for him to take care of the problem. She’d asked him for his home phone number and his personal cell phone number, assuring him she’d call him a few dozen times, preferably while he was trying to sleep, to see if he really was serious about wanting to fix a nonexistent problem with her computer. Clearly angry, he hung up. She enjoyed a few chuckles before returning to her work.
“I understand your reluctance to share your private information, Miss Pierce, but would you at least confirm that you are twenty-five and your birthday is in February?”
Jessie stiffened, wondering where the caller had acquired that information. Then again, with social media as it was, it didn’t take much digging to find basic personal information. “May I please inquire as to the reason for this conversation? Are you calling to have me design something for you?”
The woman laughed. “No, Miss Pierce. I’m calling to let you know you are the winner of the Chase Jarrett Contest.”
Baffled, Jessie wracked her brain for any remembrance of a contest. She had no idea who Chase Jarrett was and didn’t really care. “I think you must have the wrong number. I didn’t enter a contest.”
“Oh, you didn’t,” the woman hurried to reassure her. “Your friend Stacey Johnson sent in an entry for you.”
A groan escaped Jessie before she could swallow it. Although well meaning, her best friend was constantly attempting to set her up on blind dates and interfering with the quiet, unassuming existence Jessie preferred. She’d deal with Stacey later.
Right now, she just wanted to get the woman off the phone and return to the book cover she was designing for a favorite client. “What sort of contest is it?”
“It’s really an amazing prize,” the woman gushed. “You won an all-expense paid trip for you and a friend to Las Vegas for three nights.”
“Really?” Jessie couldn’t quite believe she’d won anything, let alone a trip for two with someone else footing the bill. “We’d be able to go whenever we wanted?”
“No,” the woman hastened to clarify. “The date is set for next weekend. Oh, and you’d need to agree to marry Chase Jarrett.”
“What!” Jessie jumped up from her desk and paced across the floor in her home office. “Who in the world is Chase Jarrett?”
“A very handsome rodeo cowboy.” The woman on the other end of the line laughed again. “I assure you the contest is legal and above board. In truth, it is a mock wedding ceremony during the finals rodeo in Las Vegas. As the winner of the contest, you would spend three nights in a luxury hotel, dine at great restaurants, attend three performances of the rodeo, and marry a good-looking cowboy in a ceremony that is, for all intents and purposes, just for fun. Please let me emphasize it is a mock wedding ceremony. Nearly four thousand women entered the contest, but you were selected as the winner. Each entry included an essay about why you should be the lucky bride. I have to say, your friend Stacey wrote an impressive entry.”
“This is all so…” Jessie struggled to find the right words to express her combined surprise, dismay, and excitement.
“Sudden, I’m sure,” the woman supplied, finishing Jessie’s sentence. “My name is Ashley Jarrett. I’m the publicist for Chase, the faux groom-to-be. I emailed you all the details along with my contact information a few moments ago. If you need some time to think about this, I can give you one hour. With the rodeo beginning later this week, I have to let everyone know who the winner is first thing tomorrow.”
“Oh, I… well, it’s not…” Jessie stumbled over her jumbled thoughts, grateful they refused to spill out her mouth. Finally, she released a tight breath. “Thank you.”
“Talk to you soon,” Ashley said, then disconnected the call.
Jessie plopped down at her computer, opened her email, and read all the details three times before calling Stacey.
“Hey, girl! What’s up?” Stacey asked in her usual cheerful tone.
“What’s up? I’ll tell you what’s up, you sneaky, underhanded so-called friend. You entered me in some marry-a-cowboy contest, that’s what is up!” Jessie didn’t recognize her voice as it escalated in volume. She was usually the one who remained calm and unruffled, at least outwardly.
Stacey possessed the audacity to laugh at her. “Guilty as charged. How did you find out about it?”
Jessie realized it was a good thing she wasn’t standing next to her friend because she may have been unable to resist the urge to smack her. “I won. The publicity person just called to tell me.”
The excited squeals transmitting through the connection forced Jessie to hold the phone away from her ear until Stacey stopped to drag in a breath. “Before you start screaming again, you should know I have an hour to call Miss Jarrett back and let her know if I accept the prize or not.”
“Of course you’ll accept it, you ninny. This is the biggest thing to ever happen to you.” Stacey sounded thoroughly disgusted.
“Be that as it may, I have no intention of getting married in public, even if it is a pretend ceremony. Who does that anyway? And who is this Chase person? Why is he such a catch that thousands of women want to marry him?”
Stacey whistled. “That’s more than I imagined would enter. That is so awesome you won! So what are the deets? Come on, girl! Spill!”
Jessie sighed. “Look, Stace, you know I can’t do this. Why don’t you take the prize? I could…”
“No can do, Jess. The prize is non-transferrable. That was perfectly clear in the long list of rules. Now, you just call that nice lady and tell her you’ll be there with bells on.”
“But, Stace, I can’t do this. You know how I hate being in public and this will…”
“Be a great growing experience for you,” Stacey interjected. “Besides, only a lunatic would turn down a chance to spend the day with Chase Jarrett. I mean, have you checked out the photos of him? He’s a cutie and then some. If you don’t call that lady back right now, I’ll drive over there and do it for you.”
Aware the girl would do exactly that, Jessie battled with her decision. If she didn’t accept the prize, Stacey would never give her a moment of peace. In addition, Jessie would always wonder what it would have been like to marry a cowboy, even if it was for a sham wedding. Resigned, she surrendered to the inevitable. “Fine. I’ll call her, but since you got me into this, you are most definitely coming with me.”
Stacey squealed a few more times. “I’ll come over after work and we can start picking out what we’ll take with us. We may need to do a little shopping before we leave. Oh, this is so exciting! I’ll see you around six and I’ll bring dinner. Bye!”
Jessie took a deep, calming breath, and then made a call to the publicist. “Miss Jarrett?”
“Yes. Is this Miss Pierce?” Ashley asked, sounding pleasantly surprised by the call.
“It is. I’ll accept the prize and be there on Thursday of next week. Thank you for the opportunity for this trip,” Jessie said. She had no doubt going to Las Vegas to marry a stranger in a pretend ceremony was the single most stupid thing she’d ever agreed to do. “What information do you need from me?”
Forty-five minutes later, Jessie disconnected the call, thoroughly exhausted. Ashley, as the woman insisted on being called, asked Jessie so many questions it left her thoughts swimming in her head. She wanted to know everything from Jessie’s favorite color and flower to her preferred style of shoes and ring size.
Uncertain why the woman needed to know all those personal details, Jessie contemplated what it all might mean. She tried to resume her work but found it impossible to concentrate. She wandered outside to where a fluffy cat lounged in a pool of sunshine on the small balcony outside her second-floor apartment. Potted plants made it appear like an oasis of greenery from the street below.
The cat had shown up out of nowhere on Christmas Eve two years ago, yowling from her balcony for her to let him in. She’d asked all around the neighborhood, but no one claimed him, so she named him Tinsel and adopted him as her own. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to state he’d adopted her.
At any rate, she loved the lazy feline and the companionship he provided since she spent the majority of her time alone.
She turned her face to the sunshine and closed her eyes. It was a warm, lovely day in San Diego. While Jessie occasionally missed the farm she’d grown up on a little more than an hour away, she liked the independence of living in the city. Since she owned her own graphic design business and worked from home, she could live anywhere, but she’d needed to make a break from her family. It had been one of the best things she’d ever done. The distance from her relatives had helped her gain a sense of peace she’d never known, even if she often dreamed of living in the country again.
Ruefully, she realized Stacey had pushed her into making that life-changing decision four years ago. Perhaps her friend really did have her best interests at heart.
She sat on a patio chair and stroked her fingers over the cat’s silvery-gray back. “Well, Tinsel, what do you suppose a bogus bride-to-be should do to prepare for a fake wedding to a man she’s never met? Did I mention he’s a cowboy?”
The cat glanced up at her, blue eyes glowing, and meowed.
“Do you think he’ll wear his spurs to the wedding?”
Tinsel swished his tail.
“I suppose a cowboy might just do that sort of thing.” Jessie sat back and picked up the cat, settling him on her lap. The loud rumble of his purr drew out her smile. “So you think this is a good idea, do you?”
The cat purred louder.
“You and Stacey must be in cahoots, kitty. Evidently, I’m the only one who thinks this is a horrid, terrible, totally bizarre idea.”
After a few more moments in the sunshine, curiosity got the best of her and she returned inside to search Chase Jarrett’s name online.
As soon as she typed it in, her screen filled with images of a cowboy riding bulls. She scrolled through dozens of images, but her eyes widened at one publicity shot of Chase. The man was incredibly handsome with sun-streaked blond hair, intriguing hazel eyes, and the kind of masculine jaw line she thought only existed in the movies.
Another image revealed a killer smile with luminescent white teeth. Suddenly, she wondered why in the world a man like him needed to hold a contest for a wife. She knew it was a publicity stunt. Ashley mentioned something about helping promote the rodeo and the venue where the wedding would take place.
Nevertheless, men who looked like Chase Jarrett definitely didn’t need help finding a bride. He probably had women lined up for a mile outside his door.
Her attention lingered on a photo of him wearing a western-cut shearling coat, leaning against a fence with snow in the background. Although she assumed all bull riders were short, he looked tall in the photo. The thought of standing a few inches taller, or several, than him at their mock ceremony made her giggle. At almost five eight, she had to be careful about wearing heels on dates because the height-challenged men she’d gone out with didn’t appreciate being shorter than her.
Perhaps it was the way he was posed that made him appear tall. Her gaze traveled from the top of his dark Stetson down his long legs to where the snow covered his boots. He certainly appeared to keep in good shape.
She scrolled through several more images. Tinsel jumped on the desk next to the computer screen and meowed. Jessie stopped and looked from the cat to the screen. Moisture filled her mouth as she stared at a head shot of Chase, hair tousled and rugged masculinity oozing from the full-color image. He looked at the camera with heat evident in his eyes and his enticing full bottom lip beckoning to love-starved women like a beaming beacon.
“Oh, my word,” Jessie whispered, wondering what she’d just gotten herself into. How could she possibly marry this gorgeous hunk of man in front of who knew how many people, even if it was all in fun? “I can’t do this.”
The cat meowed again and swished his tail in her face, as though he admonished her.
“Is that so, Tinsel? What do you think I should do?” she asked, picking up the cat and setting him down on the floor.
He gave her a long, shrewd glare then jumped back up on the desk, fixated on her computer screen.
Jessie rubbed a hand along the cat’s back. “It looks like I’m going to marry a cowboy.”