Texas Love Song

by Altonya Washington

  “We’re hoping your input might help us reach a decision for everyone to be happy,” Basil said, looking through the papers inside the folder he referred to. “We want to remove this from the ad department completely. Basically, we don’t want any of Avra’s staff feeling pressured into doing her bidding instead of sharing their true opinions.”

  Avra bristled. “Dad—”

  “Is Melendez all right with this?” Khouri smoothly interjected.

  “They are sending their own cooler head to assist.”

  Khouri realized the futility in asking more questions. The job, as his father said, was all his. The look he sent Avra then should have left no doubts that he was pissed and that she definitely owed him big time.

  Basil slid the folder down the long table. “Someone from Melendez will call to set up a meeting.”

  A knock fell upon the conference room door just as discussion resumed among the group. Basil’s assistant, Doris Shipman, hurried in. She whispered briefly near her boss’s ear, pressed a slip of paper into his hand and left the room.

  Opening the note, Basil scanned the writing. His expression changed as he leaned forward and drew the strip of paper closer.

  “Everything okay, Dad?” Avra shared a concerned look with Khouri when their father simply raised a hand and rushed from the room.

  * * *

  Samson Melendez smoothed the back of one hand along his square jaw and studied the young woman seated on the other side of his desk. Through a narrowed, dark gaze he focused intently on her face looking for anything to disprove what she was telling him.

  “Convinced?” Setha Melendez asked her brother after he’d silently watched her for the better part of two minutes.

  “Not really.” Sam’s canyon-deep voice had the tendency to fill a room especially when his words carried the added air of suspicion. “I can’t understand anyone—who’s in their right mind—volunteering to spend hours negotiating with the likes of Avra Ross.”

  Setha recrossed her long legs. “No one except you, right?” she drawled, smiling brightly when her brother’s probing-pitch stare wavered. She elected not to call him on it. “Anyway, I won’t be dealing with Avra but with her brother.”

  “Khouri?” Samson pushed out of the hulking desk chair that was set behind an equally massive desk. “He’s no adman. He’s his dad’s right-hand guy. This is a little below his pay grade.”

  “Well, apparently he doesn’t think so.” Setha bit down on her bottom lip in an attempt to douse her smile. The times were few and far between when anyone managed to surprise Samson Melendez. She swung her foot a bit more merrily. The moment was definitely one to be savored.

  Samson took a seat on the corner of his desk and fixed his little sister with another probing glare. “Why wasn’t I told about this, Set?”

  Still savoring the moment, Setha shrugged and studied the fringe hemline of the tan wrap dress she wore. “If I had to guess, it’d probably be because the decision had already come down from the top.”

  Sam leaned forward a bit. “Dad?”

  “Mmm…and Basil Ross.”

  Sam winced then. “Old fools,” he muttered, running a hand across his dark, straight hair. “They haven’t got a clue about advertising.”

  “But they do have a clue about getting things done.” Setha leaned forward then to pin her brother with a teasing leer. “I guess they figure since you and Avra Ross have issues…”

  “Bullshit.” Sam began to massage his forehead. “I got no issues with that woman aside from bein’ aggravated out of my mind every time I see her.”

  “Mmm…” Setha propped fist to chin and wondered if Sam had any idea of how soft his voice had become.

  Obviously he did for his gaze narrowed in renewed suspicion. “You asked for this, didn’t you?” He coolly shifted the subject.

  The smug expression on Setha’s licorice-dark face showed the slightest traces of unease then. Aside from being hard to surprise, her brother had a scary talent for reading people. “Dad asked me to step in,” she blurted and stood from her chair. “He thought I’d like a change of pace since we’re a bit slow just now,” she added, referring to her job managing Melendez Corporate Charities.

  “Bullshit again,” Sam said while folding his arms over his chest. “Why the hell would you want to be involved in this?”

  “I wanted to help.”

  “Double bullshit.” Sam gave her the benefit of a hard stare for only a few seconds longer and then shrugged. “But I won’t argue.”

  “I promise I’m not after your job, Sam.” Setha clutched her hands to the center of her chest. “Besides, I don’t know a thing about negotiating ad rates.”

  “Then you’re in luck since rates aren’t what we can’t agree on.” He leaned across the massive desk and grabbed a hefty file there. He passed it to Setha and waved a hand to urge her to view its contents.

  Obliging, Setha peered into the worn folder and scanned the first 8½x11 glossy she picked up. Her mouth fell open. “You’re not serious?”

  * * *

  Khouri adjourned the budget meeting following his father’s hasty departure. He forbade Avra to leave and grilled her about the advertising issue being unsettled with a client because of personal differences. Avra, unfortunately, wasn’t interested in discussing the Melendez account.

  “Did you see how he just rushed out?” She bit her thumbnail while watching the closed conference room door.

  “So what?” Khouri didn’t break his slow stride while pacing the room and shuffling through the account folder.

  Avra rolled her eyes. “So what?”

  “Hell, Av, he’s gotten notes and had to leave meetings early before.”

  Avra’s gaze slid back to the door. “There’s more to it. He looked strange… I don’t think I’ve ever seen that look on his face before, have you? Khouri?”

  Her brother didn’t respond and Avra waited for him to pass by during his pacing. She reached out to punch his arm and winced when her fist connected with an iron-hard bicep. “Dammit, Khouri, the least you can do is listen to me.”

  Khouri’s deep-set stare was focused on his mobile. “Your client wants a meeting in the morning,” he muttered. “They’re sending Setha Melendez.”

  Avra’s brows rose and her expression turned animated. “Aah…the baby sis—they really are going after cooler heads. Prettier heads, too.”

  “Pretty.” Khouri smirked over his sister’s use of the word.

  “Haven’t you ever met her?” Avra folded her arms across the tailored salt-and-pepper vest she sported. “I was sure that you had….”

  Khouri only shook his head.

  “Guess that makes sense. Hmph, she’s not a big presence at the company—works for the charity end, handling money the corporation donates internationally or somethin’ like that.” She rolled her eyes and eased from her perch on the table. “If what I’ve heard from most men is true, then you’re in for a real treat tomorrow morning.”

  Khouri remained silent and Avra guessed—hoped—he was too preoccupied by the upcoming meeting to worry over her departure. She took advantage of the fact and decided to try for a quiet escape.

  Answering the email regarding the meeting, Khouri didn’t lift his head. “We’re not done yet,” he called.

  “Damn, Khouri…” Avra was seconds away from stomping her feet in agitation. “Sam Melendez’s idea of advertising auto parts is to have some half-naked woman cradling brake pads between her boobs. Now I don’t think that’s what we want on the pages of the Review, do you?”

  “Maybe not.” Khouri chuckled while finishing up with the email. “But it’d sure as hell sell a crap load of brake pads.”

  “Khouri…” She actually whined that time.

  Grinning, Khouri agreed that he’d hounded his
big sister long enough. “I need for you to send me everything you’ve got on this thing so I won’t look like a complete fool for the Melendez’s prettier head.”

  “Deal. As soon as I check in on Dad.”

  Khouri eased the phone into his trouser pocket. “Do you honestly think there’s anything to be upset about?”

  “I hope not.” She shrugged and extended her hand. “Care to join me and find out?”

  Chapter 2

  Setha refused to take an office at Machine Melendez. After all, she really was there only to offer her assistance with the advertising issue. At least it was the issue that gave her the opportunity she needed to get inside Ross Review.

  While the man she needed to see was no longer associated with the publication, the advertising angle would hopefully give her the chance to get a feel for the Ross family. Basil Ross especially. She knew how it felt to be wrongly perceived by someone she’d never met.

  Sighing, she curved her bare feet beneath her on the rust-colored suede sofa in Samson’s office and reviewed the portfolio he’d given her.

  “Better take a stab at educating myself on this so the man won’t think I’m a complete idiot,” Setha murmured, thinking of her meeting with Khouri Ross.

  She couldn’t help but laugh as she browsed the glossy artwork for the proposed Machine Melendez ads in the Ross Review. No wonder Avra Ross couldn’t work with Sam, she thought. In her brother’s defense, however, Setha knew he was only seeing dollars and not…well…sex. It was yet another testament to how well he read people. He knew what would sell. That, in addition to the fact that Machine Melendez could have easily been called Macho Melendez.

  Setha smiled at the thought. While her brothers were a handful, she was happy that her father had been blessed with three sons to immerse in the world of men. Daughters would have definitely not fared well, but her dad would have certainly tried to…initiate them.

  Setha harbored no jealousy or envy toward her brothers. She was quite pleased with being the “softer side” of the Melendez clan. At least, she was quite pleased with letting the men in her life think she was the softer side. They would hit the roof if they knew what she’d been up to over the past several months.

  She had to admit they’d have a right to hit the roof. Only to herself could she admit that she’d gotten in way over her head. But then, wasn’t that the Melendez way? Get in deep, be so driven to succeed that it was necessary to fight to get out from beneath it all? And yet, be better for it because of the struggle?

  Setha cast aside the artwork and groaned, wearily massaging a stockinged foot. It had been forty-eight hours since the night she’d literally had to run for her life. Whoever her pursuer was, he was no fool. He had seemed to anticipate her moves before she even made them.

  Or, perhaps he had help? Setha shook her head to cast off the even more unsettling possibility. Nervously, she twirled a wayward onyx-colored tendril about her index finger. How had the simple act of helping someone turned into the equivalent of opening a can of worms? The more she’d dug for answers—the deeper she’d gotten—the more she’d discovered and the news wasn’t good.

  Could her father have really been involved in what she’d discovered? True, most businesses as widespread and lucrative as Machine Melendez often owed its success to a foundation of ugliness but her father, Danilo, was not a ruthless man.

  Resting her head on the sofa back, she shut out the voice that revised the statement. Danilo Melendez was not a ruthless father. Setha knew full well that the man’s business prowess was in fact ruthless to say the least.

  She wasn’t involved in the business to the same extent as her brothers, but Setha was aware of her father’s tactics. Strong-arming landowners to obtain property for the latest, greatest Melendez facility…there were other stories—ones that put strong-arming landowners in the lightweight category.

  Machine Melendez was a monster company with a history of monstrous deeds to account for its greatness. It was the brainchild of Mexican immigrant Danilo Melendez. The parts and services giant had boasted profits in the billions for the past fifteen years and multimillion-dollar balance sheets during the twenty-five prior years.

  Even with the economic downturn, Machine Melendez managed to come out smelling distinctly roselike. Danilo Melendez was a savvy businessman who saw the benefit in a diverse industry. Machine Melendez was not only a parts-and-services dynamo. There were holdings in the hospitality, finance and medical industries.

  For all the accolades, however, rumors of corruption remained. Such were often the grumblings of jealous competitors. There were occasions still where many seemed to hold merit.

  One of the more outrageous claimed Danilo Melendez had ties to a drug cartel out of Mexico City and that he’d served as a money launderer for the organization. It had been stated that in addition to the monetary benefit, Dan’s laundering efforts were repaid in cheap labor from undocumented workers.

  None of it could be proven, of course. No one rode the waves of the American dream the way Melendez had without covering any misdeeds with a host of admirable efforts…and friends.

  Danilo Melendez boasted as many high-powered connections as he did business deals. Whatever negative attention the man may have attracted from the authorities, it wasn’t enough to have any formal investigations launched.

  Dan’s friends were everywhere. Even in the most humble of communities. The man was well-known for sharing his very considerable wealth. Charity galas, hefty donations to public housing beautification and security efforts, child care initiatives—Machine Melendez was well loved by the people.

  That was where Setha came in. Whatever her father’s true reputation, she was proud of the charitable efforts of the company and her job to promote them. The head of Melendez Corporate Charities, she took her responsibilities seriously but let her staff receive the accolades and act as the face of the organization. She had no problems taking a backseat. Her image wasn’t important. After all, in the Melendez family, if one was despised, they all were.

  Spite was certainly what Avra Ross had to feel for Samson, Setha mused while scanning the purely sexist ads again. She wondered if Khouri Ross had seen them and what his impressions were. Though they’d never met, his reputation had preceded him.

  He was the only son of a respected publisher. She knew Basil Ross made few moves without consulting his right hand. Word had it Khouri Ross was exceptionally good at everything he did.

  Setha browsed the glossy shots and wondered whether he was truly a cooler head or one of the alpha male varieties she knew so well.

  * * *

  “What the hell are you doin’?” Khouri caught his sister’s arm and tugged her back from the door just as her hand folded over the lever. “You can’t just go bustin’ in on the man like that.”

  “Well, what’s the problem?” Avra propped fists to her slender hips and frowned. “Obviously somethin’s up with him.”

  “And it’s probably somethin’ he doesn’t want to discuss with his kids.”

  Avra blinked. “You think it’s about a woman?”

  “Jesus, Av.” Khouri grimaced over her bewilderment. “Some folks do mix a little pleasure into their lives from time to time, you know? The man deserves that, doesn’t he?”

  Avra waited a beat and then nodded. “Yeah…yeah he does.” Their mother had died over a decade earlier and, by all accounts, Basil hadn’t looked at another woman since.

  “Anyway, I don’t think this is about a woman.” Khouri’s gaze was fixed on his father’s office door then.

  The admission fueled Avra’s determination again. “Well, let’s go find out what’s goin’ on.”

  “Wait, Av, that’s not the way.”

  His hushed words stopped her easily. The tone never failed to deter Avra from whatever course of action she’d chosen. No one could argue
that Khouri Ross had a sixth sense for selecting the right course of action. His batting average was so impressive in that regard that few saw the benefit of making a move until Khouri voiced his opinion. Avra simply slapped her hands to her sides and waited.

  Doris Shipman was returning to her office then. “Hey, darlins!” she called.

  Khouri slanted his sister a wink. “Hey, Miss Doris, you’re just all over the place this mornin’.”

  “Honey, you said it!” Doris waved one hand above her head. “I’m startin’ to feel like a chicken with my head cut off.”

  “Well, you’re by far the prettiest chicken I’ve ever seen.”

  Doris waved her hand again, giggling like a high school girl instead of a great-grandmother. “Don’t you even start that flattery, Khouri. I’m too busy to be swoonin’ over compliments today.”

  Khouri didn’t let up and Doris clearly didn’t mind all that much. Avra leaned against the doorway of Doris’s office and observed the scene. She pitied the woman who tried to ignore her brother. It’d be interesting to bet on how long one could resist should he put the full force of his charm to work then.

  “We’re sorry to be barging in on you here, Miss Doris, when you’re so busy,” Khouri was saying once talk of the new grandbaby and the fishing trip Mr. Shipman took to Lake Jackson had ended. “We just wanted to check in on Dad. After the way he raced out of the meeting…we thought there might be something we could help him with.”

  The expression dimmed on Doris’s light honey-toned face, losing some of the illumination it held when talk had surrounded her family. “Oh, dear…” She fidgeted with her pearl necklace and glanced toward Basil’s door. “It’s not about business.”

  “Is he all right, Miss D?” Khouri moved closer to Doris, cupping her elbow lightly.

  Again, Doris angled her head to check Basil’s door. Satisfied by the level of privacy, she patted Khouri’s chest. “He’s gotten bad news about a friend, a colleague, almost like a brother really.”

  “No,” Avra breathed, bolting from the doorway then.