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Incompetent. At this rate, he was going to have to put some more money in his Grand Cayman bank account to prepare for when this thing went tits-up. It was a shame, too. He really liked the rodeo.
He made another call. This one to his bookie.
“Put me down for ten thousand dollars that Sverre stays undefeated.”
“You know something I don’t know?”
“I know that bull is a contender.” Jackson hung up. That, and he had a man on the inside who was going to make sure that the bull was drugged into a frenzy. No one, no matter how good a bull rider they were, was going to stay eight seconds on that beast.
And he was going to make Sverre the star attraction. The unrideable bull. That should get them coming into the rodeo in droves. He took out his special box again and did another bump. This was the good stuff, and he was brilliant for figuring out how to move the product across the borders. Even the most dedicated border agent didn’t want to root around in literal bull shit.
His next call was to Dolly Keller.
“Hi, Mr. Blevins. Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan to get those hundred tickets sold.” She sounded out of breath. He wondered if she had been practicing her cheerleading skills. She used to be a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader. It was one of the reasons why he’d hired her.
“I’ve got every bit of faith in you, Dolly. I’m calling because I want you to set up a public relations campaign for one of our star athletes.”
“Don’t tell me it’s Nash Weaver,” she said sourly.
“Who?”
“Exactly,” she said.
“No. This is for one of our four-legged athletes. Have you heard of a bull named Sverre?”
“Yeah, he’s undefeated.”
“We want to promote him as a headliner. Come see the beast who can’t be tamed. Shit like that. I want to see it on posters and all over the internet. I’d prefer not to spend ad money, so make him go viral.”
“Just like that,” she said flatly. “Have it go viral, you say.”
“It’s what I hired you for. Don’t disappoint me.” Jackson hung up.
And now it was time for a little R&R. He did another line. “Debbi,” he said into his intercom to his secretary. “Get your pretty little ass in here. And you better be wearing those heels I bought for you.”
*
Reba
San Antonio, TX—AT&T Center
While Reba made her rounds throughout the day checking on the animals, she kept her eye out for Shane, but either he was too busy or wasn’t around. She did notice Nash Weaver, Dolly’s mysterious cowboy, wandering around places cowboys shouldn’t be. She pulled up beside him in a golf cart to confront him.
“Are you lost, Nash?” she asked.
Nash turned and gave her a slow smile. He was another handsome devil, with deep green eyes and wavy black hair. Maybe that was why he was one of the headliners in the UPRC’s program.
Reba didn’t know if he could ride a bull worth a damn, and according to Dolly he couldn’t, but when he smiled like that, she could see why some women would buy a ticket. Fortunately, she was immune to that sort of flash and swagger. She was going to stare at him with what she hoped was a stern face, until he blurted out what the heck he was doing in this area. The look was usually reserved for negligent owners or animal handlers.
“I was just checking out the competition.” Nash inclined his head toward the bulls.
“You had your chance to take a look at the during the lottery. Are you not satisfied with the two bulls that you drew to ride?” she asked.
Nash grimaced. “It’s all the same to me.”
Reba wondered about that. Most of the bull riders had the stats down on every bull and spent hours yakking about it.
“What do you mean?” Reba said, patting the seat next to her. “Come on, we have to get you out of here before you get into trouble.”
