Master of Fortune / Marrying the Lone Star Maverick: Master of Fortune / Marrying the Lone Star Maverick

Three

Astrid tossed her head to the side and gave him a look that told him he was going to have to be subtler if he wanted to find out about her past. He nodded and took her arm leading her to the maître d’ stand. They were seated shortly at an intimate table for two that had a nice view. He realized he didn’t want to look at anyone but Astrid.

She was a mass of contradictions and she fascinated him.

“I think the London music scene is really hot right now. So many little local acts are making it big, not just here but in the States.”

“But are they ready for it?” Henry asked.

“I’m not sure they are. You’ve grown up in the spotlight and you know how different it is from the paps in the States. I think that some of the groups aren’t really ready to handle the fame that they achieve so quickly. And the American market can be fickle.”

“Yes, they can. I’ve been trying to caution Steph that making it big there will mean a meteoric rise, but it could be followed by quite a crash.”

“It’s good that you’ve taken the time to talk to her. I can help with that, as well. I listened to her music earlier today and the demo that Roger dropped off. I also think I know some venues that will suit the style of music you’re looking for.”

“And what kind is that?”

“Something with a hook, of course, that is catchy and that people will remember. But I think you’re also looking for music that has some heart to it.”

He nodded. She did indeed know what he was looking for. That made him uncomfortable. He liked to play at being an easygoing guy that everyone knew and who in turn knew everyone, but in reality he kept himself distant. The only woman he could really claim to know well was his mother. And she was, by anyone’s definition, eccentric.

But Astrid was different. She was calm and quiet at times. Like now.

“How long did you work for the Mo Rollins Group and Daniel Martin?” he asked. Mo Rollins was a legendary producer who had established his own label after leaving Sony-BMG. Daniel was one of his up and coming protégé.

“Only eighteen months, but I had worked as one of the assistants to Mo’s executive assistant for more than three years before that.”

“Did you like it?” he asked. It made no sense that she’d leave that job and then come work for him. If she wanted to work in the music industry, then the job had been ideally suited for her. Henry told himself that he wasn’t asking her because he was curious about the woman. He needed to know about her past because she was part of his team and he needed to know every nuance of his team if they were going to be a success.

“I loved it,” she said, putting down her wineglass. She leaned across the table and put her hand over his. She had neatly painted nails and her hand was very soft against the back of his. Being a rugby player he’d always had calloused or bruised hands, but hers were soft and cool.

“I know you want to understand why I left such a high-profile job. There’s a lot to it…. It was a highly personal health issue and I just don’t—” She broke off, tears filling her eyes.

Henry turned his hand over under hers and held hers loosely in his grip. He understood about secrets and personal issues. He could hold off for now, but before too long he would know all of Astrid Taylor’s secrets. HR had screened her and wouldn’t have hired her f there was anything untoward in her past.

“Very well. Tonight you are going to meet Steph Cordo. Part of your role will be to act as an assistant to my stable of artists until they hire their own people,” Henry said.

“Right. I’ve done that type of work before. I can handle that.”

“I know you can handle it, Astrid. You’re very adept at doing what needs to be done,” he said.

She flushed. “My sister says it’s a gift.”

“Really? Why?”

“Um … I was always a bit of a suck up when we were younger. But being nice does open doors,” she said with a wry little grin.

“Indeed.”

Henry noticed he was still holding her hand. He stroked his thumb over her knuckles and watched her face. She flushed again and then pulled her hand back. She licked her lips, which were wide and full. Her mouth moved and he knew she was saying something, but for the life of him he couldn’t concentrate on her words.

All he could do was watch them move. Stare at her white teeth and very pink lips and wonder how her mouth would feel under his.

“Henry?”

“Hmm?”

“The waiter asked if we wanted dessert,” she said.

“Sorry, mate. I’m good. Would you like something, Astrid?”

She shook her head.

He asked for the check and Astrid excused herself to go to the ladies’ room. It was odd that the old man had decided to get in touch with him now, but Henry thought that the job at Everest was going to be a fun challenge.

He’d long since stopped thinking of Malcolm as any type of relation. The man had sent gifts at birthdays and Christmases over the years, but Henry didn’t really know him. He’d always been a sort of Dr. Who character that came in and out of his life with no real notice.

But Henry felt the need to know more about him now. Malcolm held the key to any future success his team would have because of the will. His BlackBerry rang and he glanced at the screen. Henry had a firm policy of not talking on his cell phone when he was out with another person.

Alonzo, one of the men he paid for tips on new bands, sent a text message that he had a group that Henry should check out playing later in the evening at a club a few blocks from where they were. Henry noted it.

He wasn’t one for letting any leads slip by him. Maybe that was why he hadn’t had a problem transitioning from rugby player to entrepreneur back when he’d first retired.

He glanced up as Astrid was walking toward him and simply watched her. She moved like many women did when they knew a man was watching. Her hips swayed languidly with each step and her arms moved by her sides.

“You’re staring at me, boss man.”

“You’re a very pretty girl, Astrid.”

She tipped her head to the side. “Thanks, I think.”

“You think?”

“Is it a genuine compliment, or are you just buttering me up for some nasty assignment?” she asked.

He shook his head as he stood. He put his hand on the small of her back and directed her out of the restaurant. He knew she didn’t need his hand on her to figure out which way to go, but he wanted to touch her. There was something … almost irresistible about her.

“It was genuine. If I ask you to do a task you find distasteful it won’t be hidden in between something pleasant.”

She paused and glanced back at him. He stopped, and their faces were very close together. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he said. Before he could say anything else, a flashbulb blinded him. He turned to face the cameraman, but the person was retreating.

They met Roger McMillan, a friend of Henry’s, at the first club they entered. The place was crowded, as was to be expected, but they were immediately ushered to a VIP area cordoned off by velvet ropes.

Roger shook her hand and said something to her, but she couldn’t hear him over the music. She nodded and would have excused herself but Henry grabbed her hand and led them to a table in the back.

It was a little quieter and Roger introduced himself again.

“Astrid Taylor,” she said.

“She’s my assistant. You will be calling her every morning by ten with any new groups you’ve identified.”

“Got it. There’s not much going on here tonight. But the deejay has a tip for us on a hot new group. Once he takes a break, he’s going to come and meet us.”

“Sounds good,” Henry said.

“I’m going to make the rounds, see if there are any artists here tonight that you should meet,” Roger said.

He excused himself and left the table. Astrid realized that Henry wasn’t going to ease into his new job but had already hit the ground running. Unlike Daniel, he knew how to delegate. Henry wasn’t all about himself.

“Why are you watching me like that?” he asked.

“You aren’t going to follow Roger or send me after him?”

“Why should I? He knows what’s expected of him and he’s never let me down.”

She shook her head. “That kind of attitude is different.”

Henry nodded. “Everything I need to know about life I learned on a rugby pitch.”

“Truly?”

“Indeed. The first thing I learned is that if you don’t trust your teammates then you don’t trust yourself. You can’t be everywhere. So you must surround yourself with like-minded people.”

“So many people in this business are … elbows out. You know, always trying to shove themselves to the front of the line. When I worked for Daniel and Mo Rollins there was always a list of calls to be made just to make sure that people were doing what they were supposed to do.”

Henry leaned in closer. “Is that one of the reasons why you left?”

“No. It isn’t,” Astrid said.

Henry put his arm around her shoulder and drew her back against the banquette. “I can’t be successful until I know every member of my team—their strengths and their weaknesses.”

“I don’t have any weaknesses from my past that you need to worry about, Henry. I’m telling you everything you need to know about me.”

Henry stroked one finger down the side of her face and she shivered. She wanted to rebuild her life and she couldn’t do that if she was lusting after him.

“Let me be the judge of that,” he said.

It took just those few words to convince her that he wasn’t the easygoing guy he wanted the world to think he was. Henry Devonshire was a man used to getting his way. And right now that meant he was going to try to uncover her secrets.

Her secrets.

She had so many. And she knew there was no way in hell that she was going to trust Henry Devonshire with them. Men had let her down. Not her dad. No, her pop was a stand-up sort of guy. But the men—man—she’d met since she’d left home … Daniel Martin had broken her ability to trust. He had shown her that not all men rewarded her trust in them.

“Not just yet,” she said.

He nodded and sank back into his own chair. “You don’t trust me.”

“I don’t know you,” she said. That was one lesson she had learned. Not everyone she met had the same feelings of loyalty toward their friends that she did. And until she really had Henry’s measure as a man, she wasn’t about to trust him.

When she’d first started her affair with Daniel, she’d known it was risky to be involved with her boss, but the thrill of falling in love with someone as dynamic as Daniel had offset that. More than that, she’d also had her belief that Daniel was falling for her. And that made the risk more manageable—only after she found herself dumped by Daniel and pregnant with his child did she realize that her sense of loyalty was different than his.

“Point conceded,” Henry said. “What do you think of this deejay?”

“He’s okay,” she said. “His sound is very funky and modern, but there’s nothing to make him stand out from any of the other clubs.”

“I agree. He’s just one of the crowd, but he does have a good ear. We’re looking for artists who can stand out in the crowd whether they are loved or hated, as long as they are noticed. I’m going to chat with him and see if he has any tips for me.”

It was twenty minutes later when they left for a club in Notting Hill. Cherry Jam had a New York City feel to it. She saw two mates from her old clubbing days, and Henry nodded her off as he was dragged into a rugby conversation with Stan Stubbing, a sports reporter for the Guardian.

Molly and Maggie Jones were sisters who were only eleven months apart. Maggie, the older of the two, was actually Astrid’s age.

“Astrid! What are you doing here?”

“Working! I’m here to check out the bands.”

“I thought you’d stopped working for that record producer,” Molly said.

Astrid swallowed. She had become used to the questions about her leaving Mo’s organization, but she’d never really figured out a good answer. “I just started a new job with Everest Records.”

“Which explains why you are here with Henry Devonshire. He is one cute guy.”

“He’s my boss,” Astrid said.

“He can still be cute,” Maggie pointed out.

“True. What are you drinking?” she asked her friends.

“Pomegranate martini. Want one?”

“I’d love one,” Astrid said.

Molly went to the bar to get her one, and she and Maggie looked for a place to sit but the club was packed and the long, low tables were all full.

She glanced at the VIP area, where Henry had a table with Roger and a woman who looked familiar. He waved her over as soon he glanced up.

“Go on,” Maggie said.

“You can come with me. Henry won’t mind.”

“All right then. Here’s Molly with your drink,” Maggie said.

Henry was seated at the head of the U-shaped booth and Roger sat on one side. Astrid slid in next to the woman, Molly followed her and Maggie sat next to Roger.

“Astrid, this is Steph Cordo. Steph, this is my assistant Astrid.”

Astrid shook the other woman’s hand. She was older than Astrid expected her to be. Most pop singers seemed to be sixteen these days, but Steph was at least twenty-five. Her eyes said she’d experienced a lot of life.

“Nice to meet you.”

“You, as well,” Steph said.

“These are my friends Maggie and Molly Jones,” she said to the table.

Once everyone was introduced, Roger and Henry went back to discussing the music business and Astrid turned to Steph.

“Tomorrow we’re going to have a lot for you to do. Did Henry mention that to you?”

“Yes. He also said you’d be setting up an appearance at the Everest Mega Store.”

“I will? I mean, of course I will. We can talk about that tomorrow. When is the best time to reach you?”

“Anytime except the afternoon. That’s when I sleep.”

Maggie laughed. “I wish I had that schedule.”

Steph flushed a little. “I’ve always been a night owl, and my mum’s a nurse. She used to work the overnight shift when I was growing up…. I guess I developed the habit early of staying up to talk to her.”

“My dad worked nights for a while before he bought his own cabs. We used to have breakfast every morning before school,” Astrid said.

Her dad had been a cab driver while she was growing up. He still owned a cab but had hired another man to drive it when his health had started to fail. Her mum had been a stay-at-home mum while she and Bethann were in primary school, then she’d gone back to teaching.

“Me, too. My mates were always having dinner with their folks, but for us it was breakfast.”

“Us, too. When my dad got sick, that was the one tradition we kept to even when he was in hospital—Bethann and I would make sure we stopped by at breakfast time.”

“What was your dad in hospital for?”

“Diabetes,” Astrid said. “He’s had it for most of his life, but he hates to eat right.”

“My mum would have given him hell if he’d been one of her clients. She is adamant that you can’t neglect your health, and I’ve picked up a few of her healthy habits,” Steph said.

“Me, too. I think because my dad’s health has always been so bad I’m really aware of what I’m eating and the effect it has on my body. I don’t want to end up like him if I can help it.”

“Is he bad?” Steph asked.

“Wheelchair bound,” Astrid said.

“How has your family handled that?”

“My sister and I take turns going down and helping our mum out. And we paid to have parts of the house converted so he could use his wheelchair in it. The hallways were so small.”

“I know what you mean. My mum is always saying this country is behind the times with awareness for the disabled.”

“The thing is, if my dad had been better about eating right he might not have needed the wheelchair. I didn’t mean to say that he could have helped it—”

“I know what you mean,” Steph said. “You just want to prevent that from happening to you if at all possible.”

“Exactly. I just want to live a normal life.”

“I’ve always been baffled by the words normal schedule. No one really has one. But I think we find ‘normal’ for ourselves,” Steph said.

“Is Astrid keeping you entertained?” Henry asked.

“Very much. I like her. She’s not like the other people who I’ve talked to in this industry.”

“In what way?” Henry asked.

“She’s real people.” Steph said.

Astrid smiled and realized that she could be friends with this woman. Something she’d sort of picked up from Steph’s chart-topping song “My World.”

“It’s going to be nice working with you,” Astrid said.

“I think so, too,” Steph said.

The conversation drifted in another direction and Steph turned to talk to Henry. Astrid chatted a bit with Maggie before the other woman and her sister had to leave. She watched them go, regretting that she’d shut herself off from her old life when she’d lost her last job. Being pregnant and having the complications she’d had had put an end to her nightlife. And then the scandal and rumors about her firing and her relationship with Daniel had made her want to hide.

And she had, by retreating to her home and not talking to friends.

The need to run and hide from everyone meant that she’d been missing out on a part of herself. She vowed never to do that again.

“Sorry, Astrid, but could you let me out?” Steph asked.

“Certainly.” Astrid scooted out of the booth until Steph left and then sat back down.

“Pretty good evening so far. I think you have convinced Steph to sign with Everest Records. She was afraid that we’d be all corporate and not ‘get’ her music.”

“Of course we won’t be. I like her. I wasn’t trying to convince her of anything.”

“I know, that’s why it worked. I think you are going to be an asset to my team,” Henry said.

Astrid smiled and felt a flush that came with knowing she’d done a good job. That was it, she told herself. It had nothing to do with the fact that Henry had leaned in close to her and had his arm around her shoulder.

“I want to hit one more club before calling it a night,” Henry said. “You up for that?”

She thought about her after-Daniel routine—evening television programs followed by a cup of chamomile tea and bed by eleven. For the first time since she’d lost her baby she felt alive. Really alive.

“Yes, I am.”

“Good. Let’s go,” Henry said.

They talked a little more about what he wanted on their way to the next club, and Astrid was careful to listen to what he said. Throughout the rest of the evening he didn’t push anymore to find out why she’d left Mo Rollins’s organization, and she was glad of it.

She knew, though, that it was a temporary reprieve. Henry was going to get the answers to his questions. He was simply biding his time and letting her get to the point where she was finally comfortable.

She thought she’d have weeks to get to the point where she’d casually mention Daniel and the fact that over the eighteen months she worked for him their relationship had progressed from professional to personal, but that all changed when they left their third club of the evening and she stepped out into the night air and nearly collided with a tall, broad-shouldered man.

“Sorry,” she said, glancing up into eyes that were very familiar.

“Astrid? What are you doing here?” Daniel asked.

“Working,” she said.

“For me,” Henry said, stepping behind her and putting his arm on her elbow as he drew her away from Daniel.

Four

Henry didn’t like the way the other man was looking at Astrid. It was more than the way an ex-boss should. Over the course of the day he’d started thinking of her as his. Not in a sexual way … well, not completely in a sexual way. And he could tell from the frozen expression on her face that this man wasn’t a friend of hers.

“Henry Devonshire,” Henry said, offering his hand to the man.

“Daniel Martin.”

Suddenly a lot of things fell into place. Astrid’s old boss was more than her boss. No wonder she’d been reluctant to talk about him.

“I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“You, as well. Steph Cordo was quite a coup for you. A lot of producers are envious they didn’t get the drop on you.”

Henry smiled affably. His time in the spotlight taught him how to conceal what he really felt about others. And he didn’t like the brash American Daniel. He rubbed Henry the wrong way.

“Henry’s got an eye for talent.”

“Let’s hope he can also spot the slackers,” Daniel said.

Astrid flinched and drew her handbag closer to her body. “I’ve always known how to build winning teams. There’s our car. Good evening, Daniel.”

Daniel nodded, and Henry led Astrid to the valet stand where his car waited. She was eerily silent for someone he’d come to expect to be sassy and spunky. Was the cheeky girl he’d come to know just a façade, and was this introspective woman the real Astrid?

“Daniel was the reason you left your last job,” Henry said.

“It was attendance, like my record stated. I know that Daniel wouldn’t have given me a recommendation.”

“He didn’t.”

“Figures.”

“How long were the two of you involved?” Henry asked.

“Why do you think we were?”

Henry gave her a shrewd look. “Ex-lovers make everyone react differently than ex-bosses. So … how long were you two involved?”

“Too long,” Astrid said. “I … I’m not normally like that. I really thought that Daniel was a different man.”

Henry sensed that about Astrid. She was funny and outgoing, but he had noticed earlier in the evening that she kept a barrier between herself and others. He’d recognized that trait mainly because he always did the same.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Henry asked.

She shook her head and clenched her hands tightly on her lap. He knew that she was trying to control her reaction to seeing her ex-lover.

Henry said nothing, just kept driving. He didn’t know where Astrid lived, and he didn’t want to interrupt her in the middle of whatever she was going to say.

“I always thought … Well, that hardly matters. Where are we going now?” she asked.

“Home. But I’ll need your address.”

“You can drop me at the nearest Underground.”

“No, I can’t. They’ve stopped running at this hour.”

She glanced at her watch and then shook her head again. “You’re right. I live in Woking.”

He put her address into his Sat Nav system and then followed the directions of Mr. T’s voice. As he expected, Astrid laughed a little the first time the recorded voice told him to “turn around, fool.”

“I can’t believe you have that rude voice on your Sat Nav.”

“It’s Mr. T. That’s his persona—big tough guy.”

“I don’t get it. But then Americans are very different, aren’t they?”

“Some. They don’t get rugby, which makes no sense at all to me.”

She smiled again, and he felt good for having made her smile. “I guess they are just daft.”

“Must be. Do you follow rugby?” he asked.

“Some,” she said, blushing the slightest bit. He could only see the rise in color as he braked to a stop for the traffic light. “I used to when I was younger.”

“Which teams?”

“England, of course, in the 6 Nations.”

“Have you been to any games?” he asked.

“A few. I used to be really into going to the games at Madejski Stadium to watch the London Irish play.”

“Why’d you stop?” he asked. His old team was still a contender.

“My dad got too sick to go. And it was always something I did with him.”