Chapter Seven
Tor Edwards, billionaire owner of the Rocking Bar T Ranch, Zeke’s boss, and Colton’s second—or maybe third?—cousin, answered the door of the main ranch house. He was still dressed in the jeans and denim shirt he wore as his daily work clothes, and for the first time in years, Zeke tried to imagine how the boy he’d grown up with might look to outsiders expecting a more traditional billionaire.
He looks like a cowboy, he decided with a mental shrug. Just like the rest of us.
It was no wonder his girlfriend Leta mistook him for a ranch hand the first time she met him.
“Hey, boss,” Zeke said, placing one hand on the small of Sophie’s back and trying to remember what his grandmother had taught him about the correct order to introduce people. He knew Tor wouldn’t be offended if he got it wrong, but for the first time in his life, he really wanted to do everything just right. “This is Sophie Daniels. Sophie, this is my boss, Tor Edwards.”
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Daniels. Come on in, y’all. Leta’s in the living room.”
“Please, call me Sophie,” she said as Tor opened the door wider and stood back to allow them past.
And that took care of hurdle one—introducing her to Tor.
Luckily, Leta was not in the living room, after all. She had stepped up behind Tor and was introducing herself to Sophie.
“Thanks for helping out with this, man,” Zeke said, sticking his hand out to clasp Tor’s in a brief handshake and nodding firmly.
“No problem. Anytime.” Tor paused for a second, then tilted his head to one side and squinted a little at Zeke. “You told Mac about this yet?”
“Nah. He and Clara are on their honeymoon. Didn’t want to disturb him.”
“Mac is Zeke’s cousin, and—I think—used to do some work for Tor around the ranch,” Leta explained.
“Before Mac moved into the oil business, yeah,” Tor confirmed, shutting the door behind them.
“That’s one thing it’s taken me some time to get used to,” Leta said, ushering Sophie toward the large, open living area. “Everyone in Necessity is connected in some way, and everyone always knows what’s going on with everyone else.”
Sophie’s responding chuckle was lovely, but had reverted to what Zeke mentally dubbed her “actress laugh.”
“I deal with that a lot in Hollywood,” she replied.
“Oh, of course you do,” Leta said. “I guess it’s not that different from a small town in a lot of ways, is it?”
“Not at all.” Zeke and Sophie took seats on one of the long, brown leather couches—on the same side, but far enough apart so they weren’t touching.
Just a fake date, he reminded himself.
Tor disappeared long enough to bring everyone a glass of sweet tea, but Sophie put hers down on a coffee table after what Zeke suspected wasn’t actually a sip. He’d seen the full glass she’d left behind at his place.
More of her acting skills on quiet display, maybe?
“Based on my talk earlier with Zeke, I went ahead and made some arrangements for tonight. I hope you’ll let me know if they work for you, Sophie?”
“Of course,” she murmured.
Tor sat down next to Leta, taking one of her hands in both of his and absentmindedly caressing it with his thumb as he leaned forward to speak. “Colton is headed up here as soon as he’s done on the scene at The Chargrill. I figure he’s up here so much that no one would think anything of it, so he’ll drive Sophie back to her hotel.”
Sophie and Zeke both nodded their agreement, and Tor continued. “And then I placed a few phone calls. Leta and I had declined our invitation to the Cattlemen’s Ball originally, but we decided we’d like to go. Maybe we could all ride up there together, if it’s okay with you?”
Zeke hoped his sigh of relief wasn’t audible. He hadn’t mentioned it to Tor, but the thought of taking Sophie Daniels to a charity ball in his work truck—his only mode of transportation—had been a niggling worry at the back of his mind. He’d been trying to figure out how to ask her if she had a car service. Now he wouldn’t have to.
Sophie looked more surprised than pleased. “Are you certain you want to disrupt your plans like that?”
“It was actually my suggestion,” Leta interjected. “I thought it might take some of the media heat off you to have us there—Tor hasn’t made many public appearances since we started seeing each other, so.…” Her voice trailed off and she waved one hand, inviting them to finish the thought.
Sophie nodded consideringly. “You might be right. Okay. That sounds like a plan.”
Tor’s phone buzzed right then, so he pulled it out of his pocket and checked it. “Colton says he’s on his way. If it’s okay with you ladies, I will take Zeke back to see what we can do about a suit. Maria is coming up to do any alterations we might need,” he added to Leta, who nodded.
“We’ll be fine out here,” she reassured him, and Sophie smiled.
Zeke allowed himself to be led off, feeling a bit like he’d been swept up in a Texas twister and dropped in some alternate reality.
* * *
“You’re seriously going on a date with Sophie Daniels?” Tor hissed at his employee as he led Zeke to a back room of the main house—a complete reversal from the calm, in-control billionaire Zeke had just witnessed in the living room.
This was the guy who’d played baseball on the Necessity Niners Little League team with Zeke and Colton.
The one Zeke had no problem correcting. “No. She needs someone to go to some charity thing with her. I was available. That’s all it is.”
“You think Sophie Daniels can’t get a date?” Tor snickered. It was a good thing the two men had worked together mending fences and herding cattle—maybe even better that they had known each other all their lives and Zeke was well aware that smartassery ran in the family. Otherwise, Zeke might not have been able to avoid tackling his boss in the hallway. As it was, he knew not to take Tor’s ribbing too seriously.
Instead, closing his eyes for a second, Zeke raised his face and hands toward the ceiling, as if imploring a distant deity to hear his prayer. “Why won’t anyone listen to me about this? She needs help. There’ve been all kinds of new stories about her and her breakup with that musician guy. Showing up at a charity event with some no-name nobody will shift their attention.”
Tor’s face grew serious. “Are you sure you want to do that? The press can be pretty unrelenting.”
Zeke shrugged. “It’s just one night. Hell, part of a night. One party. I don’t think it’ll take them very long to move on to something else.” He cut his eyes toward Tor. “Besides, I live on your land. I remember a time a few years ago when you had this place wired up like a fortress. I’m not too worried about anyone getting at me.”
“True.” Tor cut his hand through the air in a slashing motion. “We can take care of anyone who gets too close. Okay, then, let’s go get you suited up.”
As they entered the master bedroom and headed toward the closet, Tor turned back to ask one more question over his shoulder.
“She’s not planning on wearing that dress to the party, is she?”
* * *
Half an hour later, Zeke checked out his reflection in the mirror, something he didn’t do often.
Not long ago, he would have scoffed at the thought that he’d wear some monkey suit for any reason.
But for a date with Sophie Daniels?
A not-date, he reminded himself.
Whatever it was, he suspected an evening spent in Sophie Daniels’s company was going to be worth getting dressed up for.
“That’ll work,” Tor said. He had called in the wife of one of the seasonal workers he had hired and asked her to do some quick alterations to make sure the tuxedo fit Zeke. He handed her some folded bills as he thanked her and ushered her back out.
“You can take that out of my next paycheck,” Zeke offered.
Tor shook his head. “No. They’re good people. I plan to ask him to stay on after hay-baling season is over. I’m glad to give her work when I can.” He took a step back and looked Zeke up and down critically. “Looks good. But my shoes won’t fit you.”
“I’ll shine up my dress boots. They’re black. They’ll do fine.”
As he continued to stare at himself in the mirror, trying to decide what he thought of his new look, his phone rang. Absently, he answered it.
“You’re going out on a date with Sophie Daniels?” Colton’s incredulous voice echoed across the airwaves.
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”