Liv insisted she’d pick Tristan up at the airfield in Gunnison. She didn’t have Caden with her this time, so she suggested they take the opportunity to have a quieter “girls’ lunch.”
Tristan brought her portfolio in with her. “Would you mind giving me your opinion on some new designs?”
Liv clapped her hands. “I’d love to. I’m so excited.”
“It isn’t anything that special, just a few sketches for a new line.”
“Tristan, I spend most of my time listening to conversations about bull semen, and other equally disgusting rough stock minutiae. My girl talk is limited to making conversation with Caden and her dolls. Please, show me your work. I’m begging you.”
“Remember, these are preliminary.” Tristan set her sketchbook on the table, in front of Liv, and then watched her slowly turn the pages.
“Well?”
Liv flipped back to the beginning. “I absolutely love the riding jackets. I don’t know if I can decide which one I like best. You’ll have to make them all, and in my size.”
“Really? You like them?”
“No. I love them. They’re beautiful. So colorful. What’s this?” Liv pointed to the detail on one of the jackets.
“Turquoise inlay.”
“Yes! That would work perfectly.” Liv flipped the page and asked more questions. “They’re magnificent.” She pointed to another sketch on the page. “What are these?”
Tristan had sketched out complementary riding pants as well as undergarments designed specifically for riding.
“I didn’t realize Lost Cowboy was offering a new line.”
“I haven’t broached the subject with my father yet. I’m not sure—”
“Before you say another word, listen to me. You have to produce this line. There’s nothing else like it. Even if I never rode again in my life, I’d buy all of it. Every piece.”
Tristan was smiling from ear to ear. Liv’s enthusiasm was authentic enough that she couldn’t question her reaction.
“I wish I had one of your new jackets to wear to tonight’s dinner. It’s gonna be a serious shindig.”
“I haven’t heard anything about it.”
“I’m not surprised. The boys aren’t big on advance notice. I can tell you this much, Flying R rented out Tracker’s Bar in Mountaineer Square, and Ben’s band is playing after dinner. I hope you brought your dancing boots.”
“Are you sure I’m invited?”
“Of course you are. Everyone is. All the partners,—and you’re a partner—plus all the riders. I warned Ben that putting that many cowboys and cowgirls together when his band is playing is risky.” Liv winked at Tristan.
She’d been listening to CB Rice since she left Crested Butte. Ben’s music was definitely sexy, especially the records the band had released since Ben married Liv.
“You have heard that Flying R is sponsoring Bullet, right?”
“Is that your way of warning me he’ll be there tonight?”
“Yes. Are you okay with that?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I mean, Bullet and I will likely cross paths often. I guess I didn’t tell you we made up before I left.”
“You didn’t. What happened?”
Tristan told Liv that she and Bullet talked before she left, and he had accepted her apology. “I’m sure he’ll be busy getting to know the barrel racers we invited to the meet and greet.”
“Maybe. Then again, he did specifically ask if you were coming into town this week.”