Chasin' Eight (Rough Riders #11)(125)

Much as he hated to admit it, he needed to find something suitable to wear tonight. His clothes were fine for rodeo and travel, but not decent enough for a penthouse cocktail party in New York City.
Once again he was reminded of the differences between them. He didn’t blame her for wanting to return to the lifestyle she’d been born into.
None of the shops looked promising for his preferred type of clothing. And he refused to dress in uncomfortable or trendy clothes to impress people he didn’t know. Leaning against a shady section of the brick building, he punched up a Google search and skimmed the results. The closest store was twenty-seven blocks away, according to Google Maps. He hailed a cab.
The familiar scent of leather and denim greeted Chase as he stepped into Western Spirit. The store itself relied more on kitschy country chic than plain country. Racks of high-end leather coats filled the aisle. Along the wall were vintage boots enclosed in glass cases. Vintage, another word for discarded and out of fashion. He peered at a beat-up pair of Tony Lamas, nothing fancy except the stitching on the snip toe, and the asking price was seven hundred bucks. A new pair didn’t cost that much. Shaking his head, he crossed over to the men’s clothing section.
He expected to be left to his own devices. His experience with sales staff in New York hadn’t ever been good. So he was surprised when the salesgirl immediately wandered over.
“You have an idea of what you’re looking for that I can help you find?”

Chase glanced up from the rack of long-sleeved western shirts and smiled. The Italian girl, who looked to be late teens, gasped, “Omigod. You’re Chase McKay!”

Holy crap. He wasn’t expecting that. “Good eye…?”

“Angelina. I can’t believe bull rider Chase McKay is in our store. I saw you ride at Madison Square Garden for the last two years. That was the most exciting part of the event when you rode Tick Tock for ninety points. My girlfriend Sarah and I still talk about it.”

“Well, I’m happy to hear it made such an impact on you, Angelina.”

“So has your injury healed enough to get you back on tour?”

This was one of his favorite parts of being part of the PBR, connecting with fans. “I hope so.”

She seemed to remember she was supposed to be selling him something. “These shirts are pretty basic. The ones with the custom embroidery are over there. Are those more your style?”

“Actually, I’m wanting something simple. And without sounding boring, I’m looking for white or black.”

“Classic choices.” She eyed the breadth of his shoulders. The length of his arms and torso. Then pulled out four shirts. Two white, two black. “These are the same brand but the fabric weight is different. Try them on. The dressing rooms are back by the boots.”

Chase bit back a groan. Why couldn’t he just buy the damn things and be done with it? He hated to try shit on. But he did.
Angelina scrutinized him after he exited the dressing room. “Definitely the heavier weight.”

“Sold. Now I need a coupla pairs of Wranglers.” He rattled off the size, cut, color and style.
“We have those. I’ll take them to the counter.”

As Chase dug out his wallet, he noticed Angelina’s focus kept drifting to the door. And when she caught him watching her, she blushed. “I don’t mean to be rude or nosy, but do you always have photographers following you around?”

“Almost never. Why?”

“One followed you here. He’s been waiting in the shadow of that grocery store awning since about five minutes after you walked in.”