Free Sweet Texas Charm by Robyn Neeley

take more of an interest in his employees. So many of them had nicknames for him that were less than favorable. Pretty Boy. Swanky Suit. Dip Shit, which was a deliberate play on words, given the product they produced.
    Always quick to make fun of him, one employee had even dressed up as Grayson last Halloween, making a convertible out of cardboard and spray-painting it black. He’d pretended to drive around the floor with it all day, cutting people off.
    That
had actually been quite funny.
    She might have thought she was going into the lions’ den last night, hanging out with Grayson and his brothers, but the same could definitely be said for him if he attempted to step foot in the factory and stay there for any length of time. She took another bite of her sandwich. He might not get out alive.
    She set her napkin on her plate just as Betty Lou came over.
    “How’s the grilled cheese?”
    “Fabulous as always.” She reached in her purse for her wallet and pulled out some cash, but Betty Lou shook her head. “It’s on the house. It’s the least I can do for all your help last night.”
    “Thank you. Do you want me to give you a hand today?”
    “No, I’m good. You go do something fun.”
    Becca pulled her mango lip balm out of her purse, rubbing the soft orange ball across her lips.
Something fun.
She didn’t do fun. When she wasn’t working, she’d always spent time with her mother. Not to mention, until recently, she never had any discretionary income, living from paycheck to paycheck.
    Now that she had more money than she knew what to do with, maybe she should infuse a little fun into her life—go shopping, or to the movies, or perhaps drive up to Houston for the day.
    She wrinkled her nose. The problem with all those ideas: She’d never been fascinated with clothes and preferred wearing her worn-out T-shirts and comfy jeans to purchasing anything new; sitting alone in a dark theater sounded just plain sad; and she wasn’t quite sure if her old truck would make it to Houston.
    She glanced out the window at Blue Baby, the nickname she’d given her beloved truck. It was her first big purchase after she started working at Guac Olé. Sure, it had had over fifty thousand miles on it at that time, but she’d been so proud the day she picked it up from the old used car lot off Route 24. It now had well over one hundred thousand miles on it, or at least she thought it did. She didn’t exactly know since the odometer broke two years ago. She should probably consider purchasing a new truck.
    The thing was, she didn’t like change and was perfectly content running Blue Baby into the junkyard grave.
    She sighed and gazed out the window. That would probably happen sometime before the end of the year. Like it or not, change was in the air.
    All of a sudden her heart stopped as Grayson pulled up across the street in his Mercedes convertible. He stepped out in jeans and a casual white button-down shirt, sliding on a tan cowboy hat. Since when did Mr. Rhode Island wear something Texan?
    He leaned against his car and rolled up his sleeves before folding his tanned arms. Had she really been in his embrace last night?
    Stop it, Becca.
She grabbed her water glass to down the flames that reminiscing about their dance appeared to have ignited inside her. She glanced over again. Maybe she could run across the street and say a quick hello, apologize for last night, and find out what he planned to do about Chuck.
    Good idea.
She hopped out of the booth and headed for the exit. But someone had beaten her to him.
    Apparently Grayson had made a full recovery from Chuck’s punch. Becca stepped back and watched as he greeted Meg Murphy with a big hug and a peck on the cheek.
    The Silver Spurs’ waitress was all smiles as she took hold of the arm he offered and they strolled down the street.
    Becca put on her sunglasses and left the restaurant, keeping her head down and beelining it to her truck. Safely inside, she glanced down the