Present Day…

The Bucking Bean coffee shop was a new edition to the Haskell social scene, and as far as Jogi was concerned, that made it the perfect place to hang out. The décor was tongue-in-cheek western, with neon cattle horns, pop-culture cowboy paintings, a collection of spangled cowboy vests hanging on one wall that would make any Vegas Elvis proud, and the shop’s emblem, a coffee bean riding a bucking bronco. Everything about the place deserved the strains of Glen Campbell singing “Rhinestone Cowboy” that played from the flashy jukebox in the corner.

It was the kind of place too cheesy for diehard Haskellians to be caught dead in. Which made it the perfect place for him to hide.

“The advantage of Photoshop is that it gives you all the tools that the professionals use for photo editing, but instead of purchasing a huge software package, now you just pay a monthly fee,” Jogi explained to Quintus Haskell. The two sat side-by-side at one of the tables in the center of the coffee shop, a laptop open in front of each of them. “And since you’re still learning, you can watch any number of tutorials on YouTube.”

“Or I could just ask you,” Quintus said with a grin.

“Computer geek on call.” Jogi grinned, clicking through a few tabs in the program to get to the next thing he planned to teach Quintus.

“Expert photographer is more like,” Quintus went on. “Dad sure did hire the most awesome people to work for his company.”

Jogi laughed. “I like you more and more, kid.”

Quintus snorted. Jogi did like him, though. Howie’s teenage son was a good kid, industrious and clever. He was also the perfect distraction from everything that had been pressing down on Jogi for the last couple of months. Nothing took a guy’s mind off the woman that broke his heart like tutoring a teenager.

“Now, the trick to editing a photo in order to produce the highest quality image, an image that really pops, is layering,” he went on, focusing on teaching. “These days, a lot of the most visually appealing images you see are actually compilations of various raw footage layered together.”

“Did you do that for your winning image?” Quintus asked.

Jogi tensed, the way he did every time someone brought up his National Park Services photography award. He was tired of being congratulated for something that had blown everything to bits with Sandy. Although, if she hadn’t—

He cut his train of thought off before it could go anywhere. He was there to tutor Quintus, not to rehash messy recent history.

“Actually, I didn’t,” he said, working not to clench his jaw as he spoke. He even rubbed a hand over the rough hair of the beard he still hadn’t shaved off. “That image was unedited.” It would have had to be.

“Huh.” Quintus nodded thoughtfully. He looked at his computer screen for a second, clicking to get to the same place Jogi was with his program, then glanced to Jogi again. “It was a great picture, though.”

“Thanks.” Jogi smiled. He’d learned that was the only reaction people wanted from him when it came to that damn contest.

“Sandy looked really pretty in that picture,” Quintus went on, blushing like the sixteen-year-old boy he was.

“She’s a pretty woman,” Jogi said in clipped tones. “Now, this little tool here will—”

“Did you guys ever go out?”

Jogi had to bite his tongue to stop himself saying, “Why don’t you just punch me in the nuts?”

He cleared his throat instead. “A couple times,” he confessed, avoiding Quintus’s questioning gaze by focusing on the computer screen. “Nothing ever came of it.”

That was a bald-faced lie, but hey, if Sandy could keep things secret and sweep it all under the table, then so could he.

His gut still burned with acid, even though things were over, at the way she’d kept what was going on between them from her friends. Like he was an embarrassment. Because computer geeks didn’t date high-powered lawyer ladies.

“Uh, you sure?”

Quintus’s question shook Jogi out of his thoughts. He was a fool to get sidetracked by bitter memories in the first place.

“Yeah, I’m sure. We didn’t really click.”

Another outrageous lie. Because he and Sandy had clicked. Not just in bed, although he’d seen more fireworks between the sheets with her than the most raucous Diwali celebration ever. He missed her laugh and the way she would over-explain why she did things. He missed swapping ideas about everything from pop fads to scientific advancements with her.

He did not miss her penchant for secrecy, though. Or her bullying. Or her—

The cowbell over the coffee shop’s door jangled, and Sandy walked through as though his thoughts had summoned her. Her long, smooth legs stood out under her short, summery skirt. Her soft blouse emphasized her curves and her femininity. She wore heels, even on a Saturday. Her make-up was perfect, as always.

And Ronny Bonneville followed inches behind her, his eyes locked on her butt as they entered the coffee shop.

“We could have gone anywhere,” Ronny told her butt as if he were in the middle of a long complaint. “This place is way cheaper than I can afford.”

“It’s not about money, Ronny, it’s about—” Sandy stopped cold the second she saw Jogi. Surprise widened her eyes, only to be replaced by the closest thing to a cringe that Jogi had ever seen on her self-possessed face. Which told Jogi she’d had the exact same thought he’d had in choosing The Bucking Bean to meet up with someone. They’d both bet the other wouldn’t be caught dead there.

“I hope they at least have good coffee,” Ronny grumbled, pushing past Sandy to make his way to the counter. “What do you want?”

Sandy had paused when she spotted Jogi, but walked on, her heels clicking on the floor, as she caught up to Ronny’s side. “Just a black coffee is fine. It isn’t like this is a date or anything.”

Jogi’s ears burned. If that comment wasn’t for him, he was a monkey’s uncle.

Not that it mattered to him one bit what Sandy Templesmith did with the rest of her life or who she dated.

He took a sip of his coffee, which had gone cold after being untouched for fifteen minutes, and slammed his focus back into the lesson he was teaching. “The technicalities of layering aren’t that hard, but it does take some practice to get an eye for detail and finesse.”

“Why on earth is Sandy Templesmith having coffee with Ronny Bonneville?” Quintus muttered, eyes narrowed as he openly watched Sandy and Ronny at the counter. “She hates him. And she can do so much better.”

“It’s none of our business,” Jogi bit out. “Now, I loaded a couple tutorial images onto your computer so that we can practice building a final image using multiple layers. They’re in the file marked ‘Quintus_Practice’.”

Quintus dragged his attention away from Sandy and back to his computer. “Yeah, right here.” He found the file and started bringing up the images. In no time, it was as if Quintus had forgotten everything but layering digital footage.

If only Jogi could say the same. It was like the neon that decorated the walls of the coffee shop had broken off and made a halo around Sandy and Ronny. They moved from one end of the counter to the other as they ordered and paid, then seated themselves in a booth near the window, as far away from Jogi as it was possible to sit. It was just Jogi’s luck that he and Quintus were sitting in the middle of the shop, which wasn’t far enough away for him not to overhear Sandy and Ronny’s conversation.

“Okay, let’s not beat around the bush here, Ronny,” Sandy said. Jogi could only see her out of the corner of his eye, but what he saw was enough to tell him she was on the warpath. “You need to convince your dad to call off his dogs.”

Ronny let out a teasing chuckle. “Dad hates dogs. He hates any animal that people keep as a pet. He says they’ve lost their killer instincts.”

“Well, he needs to cool it with his own killer instincts,” Sandy said, aggressive where Ronny was trying to be suave. “The bank does not need a change in leadership right now.”

“Like this?” Quintus’s question felt like it came out of the blue, even though Jogi was staring at the computer screen as the boy worked.

It took Jogi a second to drag his ears back from the other side of the room before he could assess what Quintus was doing. “Yeah, although you could clean up the lines a little by doing this.” He shifted Quintus’s computer to face him and clicked on a tool.

It was a good thing he knew Photoshop in his sleep. His focus sped across the room again as Sandy raised her voice and said, “It matters to me.”

The frown that darkened Jogi’s brow had nothing to do with the fact that Quintus’s image wasn’t doing what he wanted it to do.

“Your family will still make good money off of the bank,” Ronny went on, his voice grating on Jogi’s nerves. “What difference does it make who the CEO is?”

“It makes a difference.” Sandy raised her voice in an incredulous half-shout. “It’s not just a bank to our family. It’s a legacy.”

“You don’t even work for the bank,” Ronny argued.

“My father retains me as legal counsel.”

“Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”

“No.”

“Maybe we should save this for another time?” Quintus captured Jogi’s attention again. Jogi glanced at him, only to find Quintus flushed, his expression serious. He darted a glance over to Sandy and Ronny’s table to hint that he knew where Jogi’s mind was.

Jogi didn’t have a chance to answer.

“Come on, babe,” Ronny said. Jogi saw him slide his hand across the table to touch Sandy’s. “Let’s not spoil the mood by fighting.”

Sandy yanked her hand back. “This is not a date.”

“Date, not a date, why put a label on it?” Ronny leaned closer to her and said something in a tone that made every nerve in Jogi’s body snap tight.

“How dare you?” Sandy barked in response. “I wouldn’t go there if you were the last man on the planet.”

“Not even to save your daddy’s precious bank?” Ronny cooed back.

“No.” Sandy scrambled for her purse, but she didn’t stand. “I should have known better than to think I could sway you.”

Ronny leaned back and spread his hands. “Baby, you can sway me all you want.” Sandy made a disgusted noise, but before she could stand, Ronny went on with, “Face it. Your dad is out. We’ve already got a sizable percentage of stock in the bank, and we’ve got the votes on the board to oust your dad and replace him with whomever we want.”

“You do not.” Sandy sat poised on the edge of her seat, as if caught between getting up and leaving or staying and negotiating out of desperation.

“Are you going to say something?” Quintus asked Jogi in a low voice.

Ronny went on before Jogi could answer.

“Guy Sedgewick has an eighteen percent share in the bank.”

“Guy has been friends with my father for years,” Sandy fired back.

“That’s not what I hear,” Ronny said in a borderline sing-song voice. “Dad and Guy played golf last week, and from what Guy said, he’s mighty concerned about the direction your dad has been taking the bank in.”

“The fossil fiasco was your dad’s idea,” Sandy growled.

“Guy’s not convinced of that.”

Sandy sputtered at Ronny’s words. “That’s ridiculous. You know you and your dad were behind that.”

Ronny shrugged. “That’s not what Guy thinks.”

“It’s true.”

“Seems to me like it doesn’t matter. Just yesterday, Dad and Guy had lunch together, and, well, let’s just say that while you keep holding out on getting into bed with me, Guy’s already having a smoke to cool down.”

Sandy made a disgusted noise.

“But there’s still time for you, you know.”

The moment Ronny reached out to stroke Sandy’s arm where it rested on the table, Jogi was out of his seat. He ignored the wordless sound of encouragement Quintus gave him as he marched across the room, dodging tables, to stand by Sandy’s side.

“Are you having a problem here?” he asked, staring Ronny down.

“Mind your own business, Apu,” Ronny snapped.

Red-hot fury shot through Jogi. “The name’s Joginder, and if you don’t leave Sandy alone right now, you’ll have me to deal with.”

“Who the hell—”

Ronny didn’t get the chance to finish his question. Sandy shot to her feet, taking her purse with her. “I’m done here,” she said and marched off, heels clacking.

Jogi expected her to head straight for the door, but instead she stomped toward the back of the coffee shop and the ladies room.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave,” Jogi told Ronny as calmly as he could. “And if I see you bothering Sandy again, we’ll pick up where we left off.”

Ronny stood, sliding out of the booth. He kept his distance from Jogi as he stepped sideways toward the door. “Yeah? You and what army?” His voice faltered.

“Bother Sandy again and you’ll find out.”

Ronny’s face pinched, and he clutched his hands into fists at his sides, but he also leaned away as though Jogi were a rabid dog. He wasted no time in backing toward the door and dashing out into the street.

As soon as the situation was diffused, Jogi walked back to the table where Quintus sat, watching the whole scene with an awed grin. “That was way cool,” he said as Jogi plopped into his seat. “Man, I hope Ronny gives me a chance to tear him a new one like that someday.”

“That didn’t come close to tearing anyone a new anything,” Jogi said. His racing heart was starting to catch up to him. He reached for his coffee cup, wishing there were more in it and that it were hot. Or that it were whiskey. He hated conflict. It always left his nerves shot.

Speaking of which…. A minute later, Sandy came storming out of the ladies’ room. Her face had a pink glow, as if she’d splashed water on it, and her make-up wasn’t as perfect as before. Jogi panicked as she came nearer, brain frozen between ignoring her and saying something.

She made the decision for him. “Thanks for standing up,” she said, her tone more frustrated than grateful.

“He had it coming,” Jogi replied.

Sandy nodded.

She paused, almost like she was teetering on her heels for a second. Her lips pursed, then trembled slightly. Her tense, irate expression shifted to something haunted, hesitant. Her dark eyes filled with emotion. Jogi’s heart thumped harder. A pulsing, dizzy excitement filled him.

And then it all vanished.

“Thanks again,” Sandy said and marched on.

Jogi only followed her with his eyes for half a second before shifting in his seat and focusing on the computer in front of him. Her heels snapped out a rhythm that matched the pounding in his temples. A moment later, she was gone.

“What are you doing, dude?” Quintus rolled his eyes and clutched his head. He gestured to the door. “You can’t just let her walk away like that.”

“She’s upset,” Jogi said, fighting to keep from losing it himself. “The last thing a woman who is that upset wants is some guy chasing after her.”

“Are you kidding?” Quintus was even more indignant. “You came to her rescue, dude. You can’t just do that and then let a woman like her walk out on her own.”

“I can and I did.”

“But she was totally into you.”

Jogi blinked and frowned up at him. “What makes you say that?”

“Everything.” Quintus laughed. “Seriously, I don’t know why the two of you aren’t hooking up on a nightly basis.”

Jogi prayed the flush that came to his face wasn’t as obvious as he feared it was. “No, man.” He shook his head. “That ship has definitely sailed, and I wasn’t on it.” No, he’d jumped overboard at the first sign of rough seas.

Quintus sagged back into his chair, shaking his head. “You’re making a huge mistake by not going after her. Sandy Templesmith is a fox.”

Jogi tried to smile at the adolescent comment. If only the kid knew. Sandy was no fox, she was more like a wolf. One whose jaws he’d narrowly escaped.