Prologue

Amarillo, TX—UPRC Headquarters

Jackson Blevins did not want to be in another damned meeting. It was too fine of a day to be stuck in his office, even if he had the perfect view of Shelby Miller's jugs poking out of her prissy suit.

When the Women's Professional Rodeo Circuit and the Men's Professional Rodeo Circuit had merged in order to stave off bankruptcy, they'd combined their programs and events into one business called the United Professional Rodeo Circuit of America or UPRC.

They were still hemorrhaging money despite all their cost-cutting and financial consultants.

"You've got one more season, maybe two at this rate," their accountant, Benny, said with a concerned shake of his head.

"I don't understand," Shelby said, her voice showing the Georgia accent that she tried to hide. "When we made this deal, it was supposed to save both companies, not tank them."

"There were a lot of hidden debts and costs." Benny shot Jackson a look.

So fucking what?What was the point in being the CEO of a major company if you didn't have some expensive perks?

"We just need to get attendance up," Jackson said, faking a reassuring smile at Shelby. "And we're working on that. Benny is just being an alarmist."

"The insurance policies are killing us," Benny said. "The veterinarian fees for drug testing all the horses and bulls are one of your biggest money sinks."

"I'm on that," Jackson said. "I've spoken to our policy holders, and they've agreed to waive the mandatory testings as long as we narrow down the breeders and stock suppliers to just a few trusted vendors."

Shelby frowned. "We've established several relationships with various farms and breeders across the country. How are you going to choose?"

"The ones who have the animals that perform the best will get first shot at being our exclusive suppliers. We need butts in seats. We need drama and excitement."

"We need to keep a cap on our spending," she said tartly.

Jackson's hand itched to slap that smartass mouth of hers. But you couldn't do that anymore, more's the pity. "You take care of the human athletes. I'll take care of the animal ones. We'll get through this."

He didn't like that Shelby and Benny exchanged a look he couldn't interpret. Shelby stood up and sighed. "We should have a meeting after every rodeo this season to discuss what we can do more efficiently."

Blevins bit back a groan. Great. More fucking meetings. "Fine." That wasn't the F-word he wanted to use, but if it got that little bitch and the nerd out of his office, he'd play nice.

"I'll be in touch," Benny said.

After he and Shelby left, Jackson poured himself a large Scotch and made a few phone calls. He had a buddy who worked on a few reality shows. He'd know all the dirty tricks on how to get people tuning in next week—or in this case, coming out to the rodeo.

Opening up his desk drawer, he took out his special box that contained the magic powder that kept him financially afloat—and a nicer person in general. He took a deep snort of the line and smiled. Jackson was looking forward to having his livestock supplier who made frequent trips in and out of Mexico for him coming into town next week. It wouldn't just be bulls and horses they'd be bringing over the border, either.