They lived in a small town for a reason.
And she didn’t even want to get started on Cash using charity for his own purposes.
Alyssa pressed her lips together into a tight line and narrowed her eyes on Martin before sliding her gaze to Cash, whose stony expression revealed nothing.
“I see,” she said in a dry monotone. “But I’m going to have to decline.”
There was a big difference between humility and downright humiliation. Cash had known he was going to have to eat a lot of dirt when he came back to Serendipity, but Alyssa’s words felt more like she was burying him in it, ten feet down.
He still wished he could walk away, but beggars didn’t get to be choosers.
Rodeo was his life, and bareback riding was the only skill in which he truly excelled. Up until Aaron’s death, he lived for the adrenaline that came along with the feel of a horse’s muscles as it tried to fling him from its back. He reveled in the sound of the roaring crowd and the glare of the spotlights.
And yeah, he still wanted to be there. He wasn’t quite ready to put his buckles on the shelf and succumb to the quiet life of a wrangler, which was the only job he would be qualified to do once his rodeo career ended.
Maybe someday he’d settle down, but not just yet.
Alyssa had bid on him and won him at this auction, and he wouldn’t quickly forget hers was the only bid he’d had. He was obligated to assist her on whatever project she had in mind for him.
Because that was the promise he’d made by stepping onto the platform in the first place.
His word was one of the few things he had left, and he intended to honor it. Whatever she expected of him, he would do, if not willingly, then at least not grudgingly.
This was more of an opportunity than he deserved. This situation wasn’t easy for a man who led with his ego, more often than not. The least she could do was agree to give him a little boost up in the process.
He was about to say something to that effect when Martin jumped in.
“What did you just say?” Martin snapped. “You’re going to decline?”
Cash’s agent was used to getting his own way, which was what made him so good at his job. Martin didn’t take no for an answer. But he got the job done, and that was the bottom line.
“Was I not clear?” Alyssa countered.
Cash was impressed by her backbone. Not too many people dared take on Martin.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to have a photographer lurking around my store right now. It would be bad for business.”
Her gaze switched to Cash in silent appeal.
“Cash, help me convince your agent that we’re not a good fit. It’ll be in both of our best interests for you to work with someone else on your publicity scheme. I inadvertently put you in this awkward position by bidding on you, so I’ll help you find someone else who will be more eager to work with you.”
He shook his head. “There is no one else. Maybe you didn’t notice back there.” He gestured toward the stage, where the auction continued. Men were hooting, and women were cheering over whichever poor clod was out on display now. “People weren’t exactly champing at the bit to pick me up at the auction.”
She brushed a hand back through her hair and blew at a strand she missed. It floated upward and then down again, right into her eyes.
“Does that really surprise you? Rumors about your behavior on the rodeo circuit have been milling around here for months. The town does love gossip, you know.”
He shifted his eyes away from her. “I figured as much. And you’re right. I didn’t expect any better.”
“Martin? Can you give me some time alone with Cash?” Alyssa asked in a soft yet firm voice. It was a question, but not really a question. Not the way Alyssa delivered it.
Martin didn’t look as if he was in any big hurry to capitulate to Alyssa, but when Alyssa shifted her gaze to him and narrowed her eyes on him, he reluctantly got to his feet and shrugged.
“Cash, I’m trusting you to convince her that this is in her best interest.”
Anger flared in Cash’s chest, mostly directed at himself and the circumstances he’d landed himself in.
How, exactly, was he supposed to convince Alyssa of anything?
He’d managed to royally screw up his life, and as a public figure, it wasn’t surprising that his hometown neighbors knew what a mess he’d made.
Neither was he astonished they’d judged him for it.
He didn’t have any excuses for all he’d done. He was guilty on nearly every count, with the one exception of his connection with Sharee, the mother of his unborn baby. That woman had spouted off dozens of lies about him and completely wrecked his character, for no other reason than to get her own face in front of the camera.
No one other than Sharee knew that he’d immediately contacted her as soon as he’d heard, had attempted to accept his responsibility to his baby. He had offered his support and expressed his desire to be a true father to his child, only to be shot down by a woman who had no interest in him other than how she could use him to reach for her own celebrity status.
He’d tried everything he could think of. What more was there for him to do?
It was just another one of his failings, and one of his deepest regrets.
Alyssa waited until Martin was gone before she spoke.
“I’ve never been one to believe in rumors,” she stated firmly. “I know how quickly things can get bent out of shape. Things are rarely as they seem.”
Cash cringed so hard his muscles ached, and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead.
What was she going to do when she realized the rumors were true? Most of them, anyway. But the very worst was one that had never been spoken of at all—something he’d kept hidden from everyone. A secret that he’d have to conceal in the dark of his soul for the rest of his life.
That he was guilty of causing Aaron’s death.
Alyssa’s voice pulled him back to the present.
“I’d rather hear the truth directly from you, if you don’t mind. I want you to tell me why you’re here, and why you think your rodeo career tanked in the first place.”
A spark of hope struck in his heart. She wanted to hear his side of the story. But that wouldn’t matter. He quickly doused the flame.
“Why? What difference is it going to make what I have to say? What will make you believe me? Are you going to keep me on if I give you the answers you want to hear?”
“No. Yes.” She paused and shrugged, rubbing her forehead thoughtfully. “Maybe.”
He extended his other leg and stretched. This was going to take a while.
“Let me ask you something first,” he said.
“Okay,” she answered. She sounded hesitant, but she met his gaze head-on.
“One thing doesn’t make sense to me. Why did you bid on