The Bull Rider’s Keeper Read Online Free PDF Page B

need to go to a fortune teller.” Jesse glanced at his watch. “But I do need to get to class.” He stood and kissed his mother on the head. “You want to have dinner tonight?”
    Angie nodded. “I’ll visit Angelic myself. Sometimes she can feel the energy of you boys just by reading me. She’s very powerful.”
    She’s very convincing,
Jesse thought. But if it made his mother happy, what was the harm.
    Two hours later, he’d finished class and was heading to the gym for a quick workout when he got the answer to that question. His mom’s number came up on his phone.
    “Hey, Mom, I’m heading into the gym.”
    “You can’t buy the gallery.” Her voice sounded choppy and breathless.
    “Hold on, what’s wrong?” Jesse pulled the car into the gym’s parking lot and turned off the engine.
    “You can’t buy the gallery. Angelic says it’s a bad time for change.”
    Jesse smiled as he grabbed his workout bag. “Mom, you know I don’t believe in psychics.”
    “But, Jesse, she already knew when I walked in. She was so upset. She said the same thing Barb said.”
    “What’s that?” Jesse watched a tan, fit woman leave the gym. He’d gotten his share of dates from this place. Who needed bars anymore?
    “A man can’t serve two masters. He will be forced to choose.”
    “Look, I’m here. Can we talk about this tonight?” Jesse pulled his keys from the ignition and waited for the answer.
    “She drew the death card, Jesse. If you buy the gallery, someone’s going to die.”

Chapter 3
    Taylor sat at her desk and acted like she was going over the sale records for Monday’s show. Instead, she kept playing the recurring image in her head of her dad showing Jesse Sullivan around the gallery like the papers had already been signed. After the gallery closed, she’d tried to talk to her parents, tried to get them to change their minds. Like always, they refused to listen. Her father had even patted her on the head and told her to be a good girl.
    They usually discounted her feelings. When she’d wanted to take riding lessons instead of ballet, she’d been denied. Then, when she’d wanted to try out for the cheerleading squad, her mom had said no, offering instead a private gymnastics tutor. She hadn’t even been able to choose her own college. Instead, she had attended Albertsons, because it was expected of a Harrison to attend the college her great grandfather had funded in its infancy. No wonder she’d fallen for Brad so quickly; the man had let her do whatever she’d wanted. Mostly, she now knew, so he’d have more time for his own extracurricular activities.
    Well, she would show them good girl. This wasn’t a teenage wish; this was her life they were messing with. She pulled out her planner and flipped through the address book until she found the number she was looking for. Then she dialed.
    “Hawley Law Offices,” said a bored receptionist.
    “Michael Hawley, please.” Taylor waited to be transferred and mulled the idea over in her head. This was extreme, but she had to try. For the sake of the gallery, and her own sanity, she had to try.
    “Michael Hawley, speaking.” A male voice interrupted her thoughts.
    “Mike, it’s Taylor DeMarco. I need a lawyer.” She told him what she wanted to do, how she needed to find a way to save her gallery.
    “It’s a long shot, Taylor. I mean, your folks are both pretty high up on the power food chain. We may not even get a judge to grant us a hearing, let alone a stay of sale.”
    “But you’ll try?” Taylor pleaded. The silence on the phone made her cringe as she waited for an answer. Then she heard his sigh.
    “Yes, I’ll try. We’re both probably committing professional suicide here. You know that, right?”
    “All I know is that I have to do everything in my power to keep control of the gallery in my family. My grandfather would roll over in his grave if he knew it was being sold.”
    “You’re going to owe me big on this one,