Roseanne.
Dad: How many interviews have you set up for this weekend?
Roseanne: Two.
Dad: Good. You need to tell her what she'll need to say. She's refusing to play this off as a joke, so she needs to at least seem remorseful.
Roseanne: For punching a guy or for having a beverage preference?
Dad: Both. We could have her go out and order a glass of milk and call someone to snap photos.
Roseanne: No. We're not doing that. Don't even suggest it.
Dad: Why?
Roseanne: Because she doesn't like it.
"How's the hot cowgirl?" Hyeri asks, sounding somewhat distracted on the other end of the line.
"Good. Fine," I say, leaning on top of my leather duffel bag to close everything into it. I thought it would be perfect for our weekends away, but I don't pack light.
"Actually?" She sounds surprised, and I suppose after our last conversation, that makes sense.
"Yeah. I think we came to some sort of truce earlier this week. My days have involved working out every morning and then making travel arrangements and sending interview requests for the cities we're heading to.
I'm thinking if I can curate some of these news stories for her, they might be more favorable."
I resolve not to mention that I almost climbed on top of her at the gym yesterday. That she looked good enough to eat and that she finally treated me like she might not totally hate me.
"Huh. And she's staying out of trouble?"
"Hyeri, she's not a dog who keeps getting out of the yard. She mostly sleeps, reads, and helps her dad and brothers around the ranch. She's not an idiot, and there's only so much to do out here. I'm not going to ride her ass unnecessarily."
She hums suggestively. "But would you let her ride yours?"
"Okay, it's been nice chatting! Bye!"
"Prude," she mutters.
"Love you too," I say before ending the call and putting my focus on the last section of zipper.
When I finally realize that it's going to break the bag if I travel with the smaller duffel, I give up and pack everything into the hard-shell suitcase.
I drag my bag down the hallway and meet Lisa at the front door to leave for the airport. She holds a fist over her mouth for a moment to stifle a laugh. I suppose laughing at me is preferable to the scowling we started with.
"Is Mason hiding in that suitcase?"
My lips twitch. "Shut up."
She doesn't shut up. She says, "You know we're gone for four days, right?" But she smiles at me. And it stuns me. All confidence and playful allure.
I think it might be the sexiest smile anyone has ever given me.
***
The plastic arena seat is cool beneath me. I scroll through my emails, which have all been read and responded to. Even the incessant texts from my dad about how things are going, what we're doing, and is she keeping her hands to herself.
Those parts have my eyes rolling, because even if Lisa and I are on friendly-ish terms, she would never be interested in someone like me. She's made that abundantly clear. And that's fine because I can't take another heartbreak.
My ex, Jaehyun, put my heart back together and then tore it to shreds. I wish I could say I hate him. I should hate him. But it's hard to extricate myself from him. There's something intensely personal about letting someone inside your body that way.
But right now, my heart feels just fine. Aside from the fact that it's pounding as I look out into the dirt ring.
I have to admit, this is quite the show. The stands are filling with happy chatter and laughter over the din of some twangy country songs in the big stadium. It's not some tiny rodeo, it's full-on entertainment. Big sponsors, high stakes.
