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“Why not? You can be there in a blink of an eye on that fancy helicopter you got waiting for you now. And you’re going to be heading to Houston off and on during the year, now that the deal with LynTech is going through, and you agreed to stay involved for the first year. I just didn’t know you’d be going up there before the ball and staying at the house.”
“You were wrong,” he muttered.
“Yeah, sure, I know. I thought you’d fly in, just zip there and zip back. Even so, the place in Houston is the size of a small country. You can have all the privacy you need, and you can do whatever you want. Have Heather there if you want, and no one’s the wiser.”
He was right about the size of the sprawling estate in Houston. “Heather’s in New York.”
“Well, women always seem to find you irresistible,” Ray said with a sly smile.
“They find my money irresistible,” he muttered.
“Hey, you’re my son, and the women find the Sommers men irresistible.”
“Sure, Dad, sure,” he said. But he knew one woman who didn’t. The blond waitress with those aquamarine eyes. He remembered all too well her anger at him for trying to help, a memory that had sneaked back into his mind at the strangest times this past week. “I’m going for business,” he said firmly as he turned and reached for his suitcase.
“And if Heather shows up there?”
“She’s in New York and we aren’t seeing each other anymore.” He wished he hadn’t said that last part when Ray came closer.
“Sonny? What did you do now? She was nice, real pretty, and you would have had great kids.”
“Oh, Dad, I’ve told you, we just had fun. No marriage, no kids, nothing. And it’s over.”
Ray shook his head. “Sonny, you’re almost forty. You should be thinking of settling down, thinking about my future.”
He turned to his dad. “Your future?”
“Hell, yes,” he said with a gruff laugh. “You’re my only kid, and I want to be a grandpa before I’m too old to enjoy it.”
E. J. brushed that off quickly. “Don’t even go down that road.”
“You’re quite a catch, Sonny. Even that dang magazine listed you as one of the most eligible men in the state last year.”
“Sure, and so was that singer with the shaved head and a lobster tattoo,” he muttered.
“It was a scorpion,” Ray said.
“Whatever.”
“I’m glad you’re doing this,” his dad said.
He glanced back at Ray. “Doing what?”
“The deal with LynTech, you getting back on track with Ford after the fiasco of the leaks.”
Ray hadn’t given him any feedback when he told him he was thinking of scaling down his holdings or when he’d told him about the mess last week. “Why?”
“If you have less work to do, maybe you’ll have more time to start looking around for someone to have those grandkids with.”
“What part of ‘that’s not going to happen’ don’t you understand?”
Ray frowned. “Never say never, Sonny. You’ve got a few months before you’re forty.”
E. J. laughed at that. “And you’ve got a few months before you’re sixty-five.”
“So?”
He crossed to the dressing room and disappeared inside to get his leather jacket, then came back into the bedroom. “So? Why don’t you get married again? You’re still quite a catch.”
Ray shook his head. “Don’t have no desire to do that. Your mother was the one woman who—”
“Could rope your heart,” E. J. finished for him as he put his wallet in his pocket and crossed back to the bed to get his suitcase. “I know.”
“She sure did,” Ray said.
He’d heard that since he was five and his mother had died. That was it for Ray. There had been women now and then over the years, but as Ray said, “None worth bringing home.” He faced Ray and nodded to the door. “I’m leaving.”
“I’m walking you out.”
The two men went together through the sprawling main house, their boot heels clicking in unison on the terra-cotta floors of the heavily beamed, adobe-walled rooms.
“You want me to come with you?” Ray asked as they crossed the great room, which was done in a southwestern decor and took up the center of the house and cut toward the back of the building.
“No, just take care of things here, and don’t volunteer me for anything else.”
“There was one other thing,” Ray said as they got to the side exit, the one that led across a stone patio to a helicopter pad beyond a breadth of rolling lawn. “But it can wait.”
E. J. didn’t open the door, even though he could hear the throaty vibration of the helicopter ready to take him to Houston. He turned to look at his father. He didn’t remember much about his mother, except her voice when she sang to music, but Ray had been the rock in his life. They’d been in the oil fields together, worked side by side, and when he’d “struck it rich,” Ray had been there. But over the years, he’d learned to never let a casual “one other thing” pass unchallenged.
“Spill it,” E. J. said.
“You gotta go, Sonny. You said you didn’t want to be late for the meeting this morning.”
“Don’t call me Sonny,” he said tightly. “And I’m not going until you tell me everything.”
Ray shrugged. “I sort of told them you might be able to get some of your friends to come to the ball.”
E. J. rolled his eyes and sighed with exasperation. “Dad, for the love of—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Ray said quickly. “I can make some calls and ask them to—”
“No,” he said quickly.
“But they’ll expect—”
“No! Just tell me that’s it, that you didn’t offer me for anything else.”
“Just that you’ll participate in a few things.”
This was going from bad to worse. “Like what?”
“An auction they’re going to have.”
“And?”
“That’s it. Everything.”
“Nothing else?”
Ray spread both hands palms-up to his son. “I swear.”
E. J. shook his head. “No more volunteering me for anything. Got it?”
“Got it,” Ray said.
“Okay, I’ll be back in a few days. If anything comes up—” he paused, looking his dad right in the eye “—anything, you call me.”
“Absolutely,” Ray said with a nod, then held out his hand. “Can you leave the key to the SUV? My truck’s acting up and I need to do a few things while you’re gone.”
“Sure, but get the spare key from the drawer in my dressing room. I can’t find the original anywhere.”
“Okay. Have a good trip, Sonny,” Ray said.
“That’s the plan,” he said as he opened the door and the throaty engine of the helicopter made the air around them vibrate. He hurried out onto the patio and jogged toward the waiting helicopter. Damn it, he loved his dad, but he never knew what he’d get them into. Or get him into. This had turned out to be a rough deal, from leaks to miscommunication, and probably the decided perception the top brass at LynTech had about him. Truth be told, if Jackson Ford hadn’t been there to talk him into reinstating the negotiations, this would have been over long ago.
He ducked low, climbed into the passenger seat of the helicopter and nodded to his pilot, Rick Barnes, who handed him a headset. He slipped it on and spoke into the mouthpiece. “Any word from Martin?” he asked Rick.
“He’s in Houston already and will meet you at the car when you get there. He’s got all the papers.”
E. J. nodded, then, as the motor’s rpms increased and the helicopter took off, he glanced back at the house. Ray was still there, lifting a hand toward him, and he waved back. Ray’s assurance that there were no more surprises waiting for him in Houston hadn’t rung true, but he hadn’t had the time to dig. When he got back, he’d straighten everything out, including his dad.
SARA HURRIED INTO THE BACK of the restaurant, past Hughes’s office and into the small room used for employee lockers. She quickly changed from her waitress uniform to jeans, a pink T-shirt and running shoes. “Wear something comfortable,” Mary had told her last night when she’d called to check to make sure Sara would be bringing Hayley into the center before going to the restaurant for her shift. “Nothing good. Fingerpaint tends to find its way onto everything.”
Sara had dropped Hayley off at the center before her shift, and was relieved when her daughter had been thrilled with the array of toys in the playroom, a wonderful climbing tree in the center of the space, with “tree houses” off in each corner. She’d squealed at a huge black-and-white pet rat in a fancy cage decorated with ribbons and with the plaque reading Charlie that hung over the door.
The three-year-old had barely spared Sara a hug when Sara had said she was leaving, but she’d be back. “She’ll do just fine,” Mary had said with a smile as Hayley ran off with a group of kids. “And we’ll see you when your shift is done.”
Sara had fought the urge to check on Hayley on her break, but now she was anxious to get over to the center. She tugged the pins out of her hair, freeing it from the knot, then she turned to the mirror by the stand of metal lockers. She was shocked to see she was actually smiling. It seemed forever since she’d smiled for no reason. She smoothed her hair, tugged the T-shirt down, then gathered her things, pushed them in her backpack and headed out of the room.
Ten minutes later, she was entering Just for Kids. At the moment it was a quiet space, with soft music playing through hidden speakers. In the main playroom, murals of children holding hands and laughing hung on the wall, and soft carpet covered the floor where the real children lay on colorful pads at the base of the huge, handmade, paper tree. Mary was sitting on the floor with her back against the trunk, her eyes closed. A large storybook lay open on her lap. The child was lying on her stomach on a bright pink pad, sleeping.
Mary must have sensed Sara’s presence, because her eyes opened, then she held a finger to her lips. She got to her feet and smoothed her navy dress. “Nap time,” she whispered, crossing to Sara and smiling. “We don’t want to shorten it in any way. Hayley just wore herself out, but she had a good time, I think.”
Sara looked at her daughter, a tiny child for three, with blond hair, slightly flushed cheeks and dressed in pink overalls. “I bet she did.”
Mary glanced at a helper Sara had met before, a sixteen-year-old girl, who wore black jeans and a black top with Whatever splashed in gold across the front. Even her hair was black and caught in two pigtails. She was helping at the center during her summer break from school, and was a daughter of one of LynTech’s executives. “Mallory, keep an eye on things?” Mary asked in a hushed voice. The girl nodded and sat down where Mary had been.
“Come on into the office where we can talk,” Mary whispered, then turned and led the way to the back of the room and down a short hallway. “We can talk in here,” Mary said as she closed the door to Lindsey Holden’s office and crossed to a desk that was over-flowing with papers.
She sat down and motioned for Sara to do the same. “What a mess,” she said, looking at the papers that littered the desk. “This charity ball is nothing but work,” she said.
“It sounds very grand,” Sara said. She’d heard all about the fund-raising event sponsored by the center through LynTech, to benefit the new pediatric wing at the hospital and the center itself. “And it should bring in a lot of money.”
“Hopefully,” Mary said with a sigh. “It’s growing to gigantic proportions, though. The mayor will be there, a senator might show up. EJS Corporation offered the use of an estate on the outskirts of the city, and get this, the main house has an actual ballroom in it. We got very lucky and Marigold Events is donating their party-planning services for it. It’s the premier party-planning company anywhere, from what I’ve heard, and Marigold Stewart herself is heading the staff.”
“Marigold?”
“That’s her real name, from what I can find out.” She sat forward. “The reason I’m telling you all this is because we’ve been thinking that you could really be of use to all of us if you’d be a liaison of sorts between Marigold and the center.”
“I thought I was going to be working here.”
“Oh, you will be. All that means is, Marigold will contact you instead of me or Mrs. Holden, or Mrs. Gallagher, the other LynTech CEO’s wife who also works at the Center. You might have to make a few trips out to the Sommers estate, maybe check out a few things, but other than that, you can do everything from here until the actual ball.” She motioned to the office they were in. “Everyone uses this room, so you can, too.”
She’d never planned more than Hayley’s birthday parties, but she’d give it a shot. “Okay, just tell me what to do.”
Mary pushed a stack of papers toward her. “Start here, and if you have any questions, holler.”
Sara looked at the papers and saw floor plans and lists of everything from donations to attendees. The mayor was right at the top of it, and under it was E. J. Sommers. “This E. J. Sommers owns this place?”
“He sure does. And he’ll be there. We have a promise of his appearance.”
“He’s important?” she asked.
“Important? Oh, I forgot, you’re not from Texas. The man’s a legend, dragged himself up by his bootstraps and made tons of money on some oil thing. He apparently does things his way and has fun doing it…with any number of women.”
“Let’s hope he’s not married,” Sara muttered as bitterness rose in her throat.
“Oh, no, he’s not married. He’s been tied to Heather McCain, the daughter of a big political family in the state, for a while. You know the type, tall, pretty, rich? Maybe she’ll bid on him at the ball.”
“Bid on him?”
Mary leaned forward and tugged a sheet out of the stack. “A bachelor auction.” She tapped the paper with her fingertip. “You know, pay for spending the evening with an eligible man? He’s agreed to do it, and we’re hoping he brings in a lot of money.”
Sara picked up the paper and saw a minimum bid of two thousand dollars next to the man’s name. “Well, I hope he’s worth whatever he brings in,” she said.
“From what I’ve heard, he is,” Mary said with a grin.
“I HOPE THIS IS WORTH IT,” Zane Holden, one of the two CEOs at LynTech, said as he sat forward and eyed E. J. on the far side of the huge conference table. “After all this work, it had better be everything Jack and Matt think it can be. We’re here on good faith, all of us, and I hope that’s the way you feel.”
E. J. sat very still, waiting, knowing that whatever he said probably wouldn’t fully satisfy Zane Holden. His mind was blurring from long hours of discussions that seemed to be going in circles. Between Ray’s surprises and the hardball negotiations in this room, he was tired, but now he was back in the fray and in it for the duration. He had never been a patient man and he wanted this deal nailed down today or tomorrow.
Finally he said, “Of course, that’s a given. We’re all here on good faith.”
Jackson Ford, sitting by Zane, had seemed vaguely distracted today, but even so, when he spoke, he hit the mark. “Okay,” he said, his dark eyes narrowing as he ran his fingers through his deep-brown hair. “Let’s just agree that we all want what’s best and that we want this settled as quickly as possible. The figures are there. The rules haven’t changed.” He looked right at E. J. “The ball’s in your court, so what are you going to do?”
Martin shifted in his seat next to E. J., but didn’t say a thing. He wouldn’t until he was asked to, even though E. J. knew he was itching to get in the middle of the fray. “I need a break,” he said, and stood.
“Good idea,” Zane said, and stood, too. The others started to get to their feet, and Rita, a woman who seemed to be the right arm to more than one of the executives at LynTech, closed her notebook and said, “Drinks are over there,” motioning to a built-in bar by the windows.
As she turned to speak to Zane, E. J. saw Martin head for the bar and pour himself a drink. E. J. flexed his shoulders, then left his paperwork on the polished conference table. He saw Ford say something quietly to Zane before he ducked out, then Robert Lewis, a spry-looking man, probably in his sixties, in a neat navy suit that was in direct contrast to his almost white hair, came around the table to where E.J was standing. Lewis, the founder of LynTech, was there as an adviser.
“I’m pleased that you showed up here today in person, instead of sending a hired hand.” He glanced at Martin, who was by the bar talking to one of Lyn-Tech’s accountants. “No offense to anyone, but it’s always better to do business directly, rather than going through too many people.”
E. J. looked back at Robert. “I’m glad you’re here, too. You had the original vision for this company and I like the way you did business, being up front about everything.”
Robert nodded. “In that vein, I’m interested in why you’re selling off a piece of your company.”
Damn, he liked this guy. No games, no oblique comments. Too bad Ray wasn’t as straightforward. “I’m doing it because I want to, sir. My life’s too complicated and this will simplify it.”
“An excellent reason,” he murmured.
E. J. inclined his head slightly. “I thought so.” He glanced around, then said, “I need to stretch my legs. I’ll be back in…” He looked at his watch. “Half an hour.”
Robert said, “Make it an hour. We all need a break.”
E. J. nodded, then turned to find Martin next to him again. “We’ve got an hour.”
“Good, we can go over—”
“No, I should have said, I have an hour. I need to get some fresh air and think.”
“But, if you—”
“Martin, relax. I’ll be back. Give me at least half an hour, then we’ll talk before this gets back in gear.”
Someone came up behind him and touched his shoulder. He turned to find a woman he hadn’t seen before. She was a very delicate-looking blonde, very pregnant and pale, but her smile was radiant. “Mr. Sommers. I’m Lindsey Holden. Zane’s wife?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I’m going home now, but I wanted to thank you so much for offering your estate for our ball. It was beyond generous, and it’s greatly appreciated.”
He felt a bit embarrassed by her effusive thanks. “No problem,” he said, a real lie, but he wasn’t going to tell her about Ray’s manipulations. “I hope the event raises a lot of money.”
“I’m sure it will,” she said. “I heard you say you were going to take a break, and I was thinking, since you have a few minutes, why don’t you go down to the center on the main floor and just take a look at it? The party planner is due in this morning, and you could talk to her or to Mary Garner.”
That was the last thing he wanted to do, but he didn’t have the heart to say that to her. “Maybe, if I have time.”
She gave him a weak smile. “Good, good.”
Zane was there, putting an arm around his wife. “She’ll talk your ear off about the center,” he said with an indulgent smile. “But now she needs to get home and rest.”
He nodded to E. J., then with his arm around his wife, Zane took Lindsey out of the conference room. Before anyone else could grab his attention, E. J. left, leaving his jacket in the room. He went out into the hallway, glanced in both directions, then started for the elevators. Once inside the car, he rode down to the main floor and intended to go directly outside and walk for a while.
But when the door opened, he saw a group of children coming into the building, maybe fifteen of them, chattering and laughing, with two women riding herd on them. He hesitated, then turned to his right, heading for a hallway that he hoped led to a rear exit and away from the kids. Despite what he’d told Lindsey Holden, he had no intention of being around kids during this break.
He found a back door marked Parking Garage, pushed it back and felt it hit something with a solid thud. He heard a gasp, the sound of things dropping, then he eased the door back cautiously. This time it swung open freely, and he was looking out at a girl in jeans and a pink T-shirt, going down on her knees on the cement floor. Blond hair fell around her shoulders, hiding her face, and pieces of colored paper, crumpled and stained with paint, seemed to be everywhere, spilling out of a torn green trash bag.
He hurried toward her, reached for her upper arm and tried to help her back to her feet. “Sorry. I didn’t know anyone was out here.”
Then she was on her feet, turning, pushing pale blond hair off her face with her free hand, and her aquamarine eyes met his as her husky voice uttered, “You?”
Chapter Four
The moment seemed to freeze in time. Him. The stranger from the restaurant. Holding her by the arm, not more than two feet away, staring at her with as much surprise in his hazel eyes as she knew was in hers. “You?” she repeated, suddenly focused on his hold on her arm. She turned, easing out of the contact, and as he drew his hand back, she could have sworn there was the shadow of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“Me,” he drawled.
She’d thought about seeing him again, but it had always been a meeting in the restaurant, him coming in, her walking over and very politely apologizing to him, then telling him his key was in the tip jar. That was as far as her imagination had taken her. She’d never thought he’d knock her down with a door, or that she’d be staring at him, tongue-tied. Nervous, she crouched and began to pick up the papers, trying to stuff them back into the ruined plastic sack, but they came out the torn side as quickly as she pushed them into the bag.
The next thing she knew, there was a metal clang on the cement, and she glanced to her right to see the stranger’s denim-clad legs and scuffed cowboy boots right beside her, along with a stainless steel trash bin.
“Try this,” he said as he hunkered down beside her and reached for the papers.
“Thanks,” she muttered, catching a glimpse of his hands, large, strong-looking hands, without any rings. Working hands, she thought, with plain, square nails, not like those of that man at the restaurant whom she was sure had been wearing clear nail polish. “Let me do that,” he said as he took the papers out of her hands, gathered up the last of them and pushed them into the container.
As they both stood, she took stock of him. Now he wasn’t wearing a leather jacket. He was in a plain white T-shirt that clung to broad shoulders and a strong chest, along with plain jeans and scuffed leather western boots. He dressed like a lot of men she’d seen around Houston, yet was unlike anyone she’d ever met. He had that way of looking at her, with narrowed eyes that made her nervous. He tucked the tips of his fingers in his jeans, snugging the denim on his narrow hips, and inclined his head.
“Are you okay?” he asked in a low voice.
She felt heat in her face and lowered her gaze. But she regretted that as soon as she realized that his jeans were as snug as his T-shirt. She looked up right away, met his slight smile and prayed that he didn’t have a clue where her thoughts had been headed. “I’m fine, and I…I’m glad we ran into each other again,” she said.
“Oh, you are, are you?” he asked.
She shifted from foot to foot, feeling like a child standing in front of a parent trying to apologize for something. “I meant that I wanted to say how sorry I am for acting the way I did before, for what I said and everything. I know you were just trying to help and I…” She bit her lip hard. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”
“Why did you?” he asked bluntly.
She shrugged, meeting his gaze evenly. “Should I have fallen at your feet and kissed your boots?” she asked with a touch of sarcasm that she really hadn’t intended.
All he did was grin at her again. “Now, that has definite possibilities.”
She felt her face flame. “Sorry. That was…”
“Uncalled for?” he provided.
“Yes, and if you must know, I was afraid that Hughes would fire me on the spot, and I can’t afford to be out of work.”
“Why didn’t you just say that?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I never thought of explaining myself, and I was afraid if you said any more that he’d get angrier and—”