To Kiss A Cowgirl

“I’ve been thinking about the hoof black lady...and the slow day.”

“And you want to know why I won’t add a lot of miscellaneous stock?” She raised a shoulder, which he took to be a yes. “Because stock that doesn’t move is money that could be earning interest in the bank.”

“I get what you’re saying. But, Dylan, adding a little more stock might help sales.”

“What exactly do you think we should add?”

She looked as if she’d been waiting for him to say those exact words. “I want to add a few fun things to the inventory.”

“Fun?”

“Well, maybe not as fun as hoof glitter, but things that people, women mostly, might buy on impulse.”

“Like, say...”

“Jewelry.”

He gave a scoffing laugh. “Jewelry.”

“Yes.” She tilted her chin sideways in that stubborn way he knew all too well. “And if we do it right, it won’t cost you anything.”

“How do we do it right?”

“By creating a Western-themed boutique—” she held up a hand as Dylan started to interrupt her “—stocked with commission items. No initial outlay. If it fails, we lose nothing.”

Dylan tried to come up with a reason this wasn’t a good idea...and drew a blank.

“And before you get all negative—”

“You’re pretty sure I’m going to do that?”

“History does tend to repeat itself.”

“I’m not negative... I’m serious. A realist.”

“Well, sometimes, Dylan, it feels good to believe that good things can happen.”

“Where, if I won’t be perceived as negative for asking, do these commissioned items come from?”

“Local artisans.”

“I do not want a bunch of doilies in the store,” he said adamantly.

“There’s nothing wrong with doilies...but I was thinking along the lines of...other things.”

“What kinds of things?”

“I can show you examples.” She walked behind the counter and dug into her bag, coming up with her phone. She turned it on and started flipping through photos.

“Here—this wine rack looks cool. And there are these cow-themed photo frames. I thought some pottery might be nice...” Her voice trailed off as she took a long, hard look at him. “I’m talking to myself, aren’t I?”

“Jolie, I have enough to do trying to run the part of the store that I know works.”

“It doesn’t work, Mr. Realist,” Jolie said. “We need customers. This might bring people in—just like it does in the bigger ranch stores.”

Dylan shook his head. “I don’t—”

Jolie pointed a finger at him. “I know you don’t. And you won’t.”

“This is my grandfather’s business.”

“And that means you’re going to run it the way it’s always been run come hell or high water?”

“I don’t want a freaking boutique in my feed store.”

“One month.”

“What?”

“Give me one month. We’ll see if the customer base increases.” She folded her arms over her chest. “I’ll do everything. All you have to do is allow me the space.”

“You can get people—artisans—to sign on for one month?”

The corners of her mouth lifted in a slow smile. “I can do anything.”

The way she said it made him believe her. “What happens after the trial period,” Dylan asked, “if the customer base doesn’t increase?”

“I send everything back to the artisans and thank them for their time. However, I think the bigger question is what happens if it does increase.”

“I have more money in the till?”

She stared at him as if waiting for the correct answer.

“You want a raise?”

She slowly shook her head. “No. If the customer base increases, you are going to admit to me that I was right.”

“All right,” he said slowly, sensing there was more.

“And you are taking me out on the town. Wherever I want to go. Whatever I want to do.”

He frowned deeply even as something kicked inside him at the thought of going out with Jolie. “Why?”

“Maybe, for once, I’d like to call the shots.” She smiled darkly. “And I need to warn you... I am not a cheap date.”

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_c9a609c3-9573-5759-b409-4ada31134f2f)

DYLAN LEANED AN elbow on the counter. “Why do I get the feeling that this is more about making me pay for past crimes than you getting to call the shots?”