“But I said no.” Mandy waved her hand. Ty couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. She reminded him of a caged animal that had been pacing far too long and not getting anywhere.
“I can’t accept your answer now, as I said. And if you don’t want to jeopardize that outright grant of shares equal to twenty-percent of the company, Mandy, you must satisfy these simple requests for getting a blood test and giving me your answer on Tuesday.” Brian strode toward her and handed her what appeared to be a copy of the will. He held out one for Ty to take. Ty grabbed it, interested to read it for himself.
“You can have another lawyer look it over,” Brian continued. “But I advise you to do now what is outlined in the will, Mandy. And that means getting a blood test. I’ve already done the paperwork for the license. You both need to sign before you leave.” Brian held out a silver pen.
Mandy froze as if a doe in the sight of a hunter’s gun. She probably felt like she’d been a target lately, what with her grandfather’s passing, Ty taking over, and now this ridiculous provision. And Ty hadn’t exactly made it any easier by pulling rank. But he was responsible for the company now. He took the responsibility seriously.
“Mandy,” Ty said, using the same low, controlled voice he would use with a spirited horse. “Let’s just sign and get the blood tests. We both know it’s not going to happen, but there’s nothing to getting a blood test.” Ty took the pen and signed the paper Brian held. He handed the pen to Mandy.
“Ever pragmatic, aren’t you, Ty?” She nabbed the pen from his hand, and her fingers swept over his in a delicate brush. An odd jolt ricocheted through him. What was that about? Too much thinking about having sex with her, no doubt.
Mandy took a minute to read over the papers before she signed and handed them back to Brian. Straightening, she whipped her hair over her shoulder in defiance. She looked stunning, even when she was mad—especially when she was mad. Her curvy chest heaved under her black top, drawing his attention to a spot he’d no business looking at. Of course, if they were married…he gave a mental shake.
This would get him nowhere fast. JM’s proposition was unacceptable. Working with Mandy a full year in a “no touch” zone would be difficult enough. Six months living together would be torture if she held out for no sex. Of course, if he could convince her otherwise…maybe. As long as they both agreed to a divorce at the end.
“Fine, blood tests. I go first.”
Ty stepped to pull open the door to the hallway. “Then my office for our first meeting since I got here two weeks ago.”
“Or what?” she challenged.
“Or he can fire you, Mandy,” Brian called from behind.
“He can’t. I’m a shareholder.”
“He can, and he can keep you from running the business for up to two years if he chooses,” Brian said.
“Let him try.”
Ty struggled to keep the smile from his lips but failed. This was going to be some year.
Chapter 3
Sitting in her cubicle in the cramped space that served as Prescott’s headquarters, Mandy reviewed the revised budget yet again, going through each line item, trying to see it through Ty’s eyes, except she couldn’t fathom what a man who knew nothing about putting on a rodeo would see there. Yet he would be the ultimate arbiter.
She glanced at the closed door of the only office in the small building. It had served as her grandfather’s office. Ty now sat behind that desk.
Life could be cruelly unfair.
Mandy’s cubicle faced that office door, the half wall providing just enough space for a counter to hold her computer and two old pictures—one with her smiling father, mother, grandfather, a young Tucker, and her teenaged self at some rodeo event long forgotten, and one of her and her father at one of her barrel racing events. Two upper cabinets formed the right wall she shared with the cubicle belonging to Karen, their office manager, with two long file cabinets tucked under the right wall’s counter space. The back half wall, which she shared with Harold’s cubicle, was covered in cork, and she’d hung pictures of her horses and bulls interspersed with the faded ribbons from her barrel racing days. She really should take those ribbons down, but they reminded her of going to rodeos with her father as he worked them and she competed in them. Happier days, days free from worry as to the future. Little had she known.
She hated the idea that Ty was sitting in her grandfather’s office and that he was heading her company, and yet she was working late to give him the budgets. Her gaze fell on the black-and-blue spot on her arm where blood had been drawn. The whole idea of marrying Ty Martin was just too ludicrous to endure, but she had dutifully gone for the blood test.