“Yes, ma’am.”
“Have Shaw and Tate as your backup, and Gina on the barrels. The rest is your call.”
“You heard her,” Maguire says, and the rest of the handlers fall into action.
“Megan,” Tracy calls to a woman that’s been standing off to the sides. “You’re on cart seven tonight.”
“What?” I hear someone snap from the group of beer girls, then Nina pushes her way forward. “What did you just say?”
“Megan, there’s extra shirts in the office if you want to come with me,” Tracy says to the woman, who is now grinning from ear to ear.
“You’re not giving the janitor my job,” Nina pops off.
“You’re right, Nina, I’m not. I’m giving you her job. You can scrub the toilets, or like Bronco said, there’s the door.”
I want to howl with pride at the look on Nina’s face. Nina turns to the other cart girls, who all back away from her like she just farted. Then I have to hold in a laugh as she flips the bird at the two of us and marches out of the Circle C.
“I guess she’s not cleaning toilets?” I tease, and Tracy shrugs.
“I guess not.”
Chapter Thirteen
Tracy
The night started off smoothly enough. We had a normal crowd, nothing too crazy. Then it started to spread through our small town and into the city that Bronco Layne was not only at the Circle C tonight, but he now owned it. We’d ended up at full capacity and had to turn people away. We’ve never had to do that before, and Bronco wasn’t even riding tonight.
It’s a bit of a reminder of who he really is. I try to keep my ears from not overhearing the buckle bunnies talk about him. Mostly people wonder why he’d buy this place to begin with. There are all kinds of whispers going around. I hate that so many remind me that Bronco and I might live in the same world but we’re still so far apart.
Thankfully I’ve been all over the place and could push most of those thoughts from my mind. It was easy to get lost in work because it was all hands on deck tonight. At one point, even I was slinging beer to help out some of the girls, but I did what I had to do. What’s better is that no one gave me any shit for the first time. I’m not sure if it was because of Bronco’s speech or the fact that there was no time. Still, no matter how busy I was, thoughts of him lingered in the back of my mind.
When we make the last call for drinks, which we always do thirty minutes before the show is over, I finally get to catch my breath.
“Want me to do rounds on the carts?” Betty asks as I walk past her cart, and she comes chasing after me. “I can do the counts if you like. I get it if you don’t want me to. I'm new and all, but I thought maybe, never mind.” All flustered, she starts to turn to leave and head back toward her cart.
“I’d greatly appreciate that, Betty,” I call out after her. I don’t think anyone has ever asked to lend me a hand around here before. She slowly turns back to face me, and I see that some of her wild curly hair has slipped free from her ponytail.
I hired her four months ago, and she’s so new that she doesn’t get the best sections. She does her job and keeps her head down for the most part. From the second I met her, she seemed genuine, and I hired her on the spot.
“Okay! I got it, boss lady!” she chirps with a giant smile. Boss lady is something all the construction men have been calling me today. No clue where the name came from, but I think it’s kind of nice. For so long I’ve been busting my ass here, and never have I felt any kind of respect until today.
I make a full circle as my eyes roam over the crowd and the concession stands. Everything is being wrapped up, and as I go by the arena, my gaze drifts over to the next steer wrangler that’s about to go in. He should be the last for the night.
I see Bronco talking to the man, or at least he’s trying to. I can tell the guy is only half listening to whatever it is Bronco is saying. You’d have to be plain stupid not to take advice from Bronco. It’s like a rookie quarterback paying no mind to Peyton Manning trying to tell him the best plays against the opposing team.
I wish I could say I’m shocked, but I’m not. Some of these boys that come in here are so damn cocky. I’ve seen more than a handful leaving in ambulances. Most of them have been ones I hadn’t wanted here to begin with, but my father has the final say in that. Or he had, I suppose. That’s something else that can change.