Lone Star Millionaire

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Lone Star Millionaire Page 3

by Susan Mallery


  “You’re right. So thirteen years after the fact, I’m going to do the right thing. But first I’m going to New York to talk to my mother.”

  Sabrina raised her eyebrows. “I’m surprised.”

  “That I’m going to take my daughter or that I’m going to visit my mother.”

  “Both, although I’m more surprised about your mother. I don’t remember you ever going to see her.”

  Cal grimaced. “We’re not what you would call a close family. I think I’ve seen her twice since my father died, and that was nearly ten years ago. She wasn’t the maternal type. Mother is very big on how things look rather than how they are. This situation proves that.”

  “Have you thought this through?” Sabrina asked.

  He knew she wasn’t asking about the visit. There was no reason to consider that. He needed information and his mother was the best source. After all, she and his father had been the ones to make the decision for him.

  The shock was starting to fade, and he felt the first flicker of emotion since receiving Jack’s phone call. It wasn’t paternal pride at finding out he had offspring, or even curiosity at what his daughter would be like. Instead, what he felt was rage. Cold, dark rage. He told himself his parents had never considered his opinions or feelings before and he shouldn’t be surprised they hadn’t where Janice was concerned. Based on his thirty-four years as their son, nothing about their actions should shock him. Yet he was appalled at their complete disregard for his rights as a father and their callous disposal of their grandchild. As he had often thought in the past, he would have been better off being raised by wolves than Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson Langtry.

  Sabrina leaned toward him. “We’re talking about a growing child. She’s nearly a teenager. Have you thought about what this is going to do to you and your life? If you really mean to take care of her, everything will have to change.”

  He stood up and paced in front of the sofa. “No, I haven’t thought it through. I haven’t had time. Right now I can barely grasp the concept of having a child. I haven’t had a chance to internalize the information. But that doesn’t matter. The girl exists and she’s my responsibility. I’m not going to let her become a ward of the state. She didn’t ask for her circumstances. She’s a kid, and as far as she knows, no one in the world wants her. I might not be anyone’s idea of a perfect father, but I’m not going to turn my back on her.”

  Sabrina smiled at him. “Every now and then you do something that reminds me why I like working for you.”

  “So it’s not just about the money?”

  “Not today.”

  He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “The good news is, once Tiffany finds out about my daughter, I won’t have to worry about breaking up with her. She’ll run so hard and fast, she’ll leave skid marks.”

  “You don’t know that. Maybe she would revel in the chance to show what she’s made of.”

  Cal stopped pacing and stared down at Sabrina. Her blue gaze was steady. “I do know that,” he told her. “I went out with her for nearly two months. While I don’t know everything about her, I’m quite aware of her character. Besides, she’s too young to be responsible for a twelve-year-old.”

  “But not too young to be dating that twelve-year-old’s father?”

  She asked the question with a straight face, but he saw the hint of a smile teasing at the corner of her mouth.

  “You never give me a break,” he complained.

  “It’s not in my job description. Besides, there are enough people thrilled to do that every chance they get.”

  “So you want to spend your time taking me down a notch or two?”

  “No. It’s not that personal. However, my job description does include telling you the truth, even when you don’t want to hear it.”

  “It’s your favorite part of the job,” he grumbled.

  “Sometimes.” This time she did smile. “And I think there’s a chance you could be wrong about Tiffany. She’s not bright, but that doesn’t mean she’s heartless. She might surprise you.”

  Cal didn’t want to be surprised. Even if Sabrina was right, it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t want someone like Tiffany near his daughter. Which was a pretty sad state of affairs, he told himself. He was willing to date and sleep with Tiffany, but he wouldn’t want her hanging around his kid. So what had he seen in her in the first place?

  He thought about her perfect twenty-year-old body and got a little of the answer, although he didn’t like it. When had he gotten so damn shallow? Was this what he wanted Prominence Magazine to tell the world? Thank God he had Sabrina. He knew he could count on her. He also trusted her.

  Sabrina glanced at her watch. “You could still catch a flight to New York this evening. You’ll get in late, but that would allow you to see your mother tomorrow. I’m assuming you want this over as quickly as possible.”

  He nodded. “I want to get Anastasia in the next couple of days. She’s living with an aunt, and the woman has made it clear to everyone that she’s not interested in keeping the girl. That’s a hell of a thing for a twelve-year-old to know.”

  Sabrina stood up and started toward his desk. “Let me see what I can do about getting you a seat. One night in New York, or two?”

  “Make it two. I don’t know how long I’ll be with my mother, but I doubt we’ll have a big family reunion. I already know our conversation is going to make me angry, and I’ll need some time to get over it before going to Ohio. Oh, and book two seats, Sabrina. I want you to come with me.”

  His personal assistant looked at him. Wide blue eyes darkened slightly. “You want me to come with you while you talk to your mother?”

  “Let’s just say I haven’t lost my temper with her yet, but I’ve come close. If anything was going to push me over the edge, this would be it.”

  “I’m not big enough to wrestle you into submission.”

  “I know, but one of your icy stares is usually enough to remind me to behave.”

  “Okay. I’ll come, too. After all, I’m yours to command.”

  “Cheap talk. I command you to stop winning on the stock market.”

  She blinked slowly. “I’m sorry. Did you say something? I heard a faint buzzing, but no real words.”

  “Just as I thought. Selective hearing.”

  “I listen when you say something worth paying attention to.”

  He pointed at the phone. “Get us seats. If you promise to behave, I’ll let you have the window.”

  “What a guy.”

  She picked up the phone on his desk and dialed from memory. While she talked with the airline, Cal crossed to the window and stared out. It was nearly dusk and lights were coming on all around him. He stared into the twilight and wondered about the little girl living somewhere north of here. What did she look like? He could barely remember Janice’s face, although other images were clear to him. The sound of her laughter, the feel of her hands on his body.

  There had been, he was willing to admit, an instant attraction between them. A fire that had burned hot and bright. He didn’t remember asking her out, though. At the time, it had sort of seemed to happen on its own. Now, with the hindsight of age, experience and knowledge, he wondered if it had really been that casual. Had she set him up from the beginning, then engineered the entire relationship?

  He remembered that the sex between them had been intense. With her claim of being on the pill, they hadn’t worried about precautions. She’d always been eager and willing. At times, she’d been the one pulling him into bed. He remembered being flattered by her attentions and what he’d thought at the time was her insatiable desire for him. Now he realized she had just been making sure she got pregnant. He’d been a fool.

  He remembered her tears when he’d left for graduate school, her promises to stay in touch. He remembered how he’d tried to call her, but her phone had been disconnected with no forwarding number. His letters had been returned without a forwarding address. It was as if she’d disappeared fro
m the face of the earth. He supposed she had—after all, seven or eight months after they’d spent their summer together, she’d died.

  He tried to feel regret for her loss, but he couldn’t. He’d never known her. Whatever parts of herself she’d shown him had been designed to get him into her bed. Obviously he, too, had been born with the Langtry ability to completely screw up personal relationships.

  How much had they offered her? What was a child worth these days? He pressed his hand against the cool glass and wondered how it was possible that his parents had performed this hideous deception. Then he reminded himself nothing they did should surprise him. With his family, he should know to expect anything…and nothing.

  Chapter 3

  Sabrina leaned back into the comfortable leather seat of the sleek limousine and told herself to relax. This wasn’t her problem; she was simply an interested bystander. Cal wanted her along to provide moral support, nothing more. But the sensible words didn’t stop her from clasping her hands together over and over.

  She tried to distract herself from her nerves by staring out the window. As always, the city enchanted her. She’d never lived in Manhattan but had enjoyed her visits. She liked the contrasts of the city—the huge buildings, the large impersonal crowds, the street vendors who sold food and drinks on the corners and, after two days, recognized her and grinned as they asked if she would like her usual. She liked all the city had to offer culturally, she loved the theater and the restaurants. When she traveled with Cal, they stayed at beautiful hotels—as they had last night—but they didn’t limit their culinary experiences to upscale, pretentious eateries. Instead, they found strange little places with unusual cuisine and often fabulous food. She liked the potential for adventure and the fact that no two visits were ever alike.

  Under normal circumstances, she was usually thrilled to be in the city. Today, however, she would gladly give it all up to be back in the heat and humidity of Houston.

  She didn’t want to think about the upcoming visit, so she rolled down her window. It was a perfect New York spring day. Clear, warm but not muggy. The scent of blooming flowers occasionally overpowered the smell of exhaust. A burst of laughter caught her attention. She looked across to the sidewalk and saw a young father carrying his toddler son on his shoulders.

  She swallowed. A child. She hadn’t really allowed herself to think about children. She was still young and there was plenty of time. But children had always been a part of her future. She’d just assumed that one day she would have them. Cal was different. As far as she knew, he’d never even thought he would marry, let alone have a family. Here he was being presented with a half-grown kid. How on earth was he going to handle it?

  She glanced at her boss. He stared straight ahead, and for once, his handsome face was unreadable. He didn’t show his feelings easily, but over the years, she’d learned to read him. Until today. She knew he was in shock and he was angry. She couldn’t blame him for either emotion. Bad enough to find out a former girlfriend had betrayed him in such a calculated way, but that information was made more horrible by the realization his own parents had joined the conspiracy.

  Cal’s father had died before she’d been hired and she’d never met his mother. She’d heard rumors and stories, mostly from Ada, about a cold society woman who put up with her husband’s chronic philandering in order to keep her lifestyle intact. The marriage had been a business arrangement. One half had brought in land rich with oil; the other, technology, engineering know-how and a small infusion of cash. Separately the families had been struggling, together they formed an empire. An empire that, according to Ada, hadn’t left any time for raising children. Cal and Tracey had been put into the custody of an ever-changing staff.

  “What are you thinking?” Cal asked.

  “That a twelve-year-old is going to change your life.”

  “I know.”

  “I don’t think you realize how much. Children are a big responsibility. I remember helping Gram with my younger brother and sisters after our parents died. They were a handful.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t have a choice. I’ll learn what I have to. At least I want the girl. That’s more than her aunt can say. That should count.”

  “It will.” But would it be enough? Sabrina wasn’t sure. After all, Cal wasn’t into long-term commitments. His idea of a serious relationship was one that lasted two months. His record to date was ninety-three days. Still, a daughter was different from a girlfriend.

  The limo pulled up in front of an East Side high-rise coop. One of the uniformed doormen stepped to the curb and opened the door. Sabrina accepted his assistance from the vehicle, then waited for Cal to lead the way inside. She’d worked for him for several years and thought she’d grown used to their difference in background and wealth, but occasionally obvious signs of his family’s impressive fortune intimidated her.

  “I didn’t call to say we were coming,” she murmured as they stepped into the elegant foyer and walked to the elevators.

  “I did. She’s in this morning. She has a lunch appointment, but I told her this wouldn’t take long.”

  Sabrina smoothed her hair, then tugged on the skirt of her hunter green silk suit. It was the most expensive work outfit she owned and she’d brought it deliberately. No doubt Mrs. Langtry would consider her beneath notice—after all, she was just the hired help. But she also figured she would need all the confidence-boosting she could get.

  Instead of opening into a hallway, the elevator doors pulled back to reveal a huge living room. Marble floors and glass tables reflected the light from outside…light that flowed in through floor-to-ceiling windows. Unlike Cal’s office view, this one didn’t show a flat world, but instead stretched across Central Park, to the equally impressive buildings on the other side. The windows on her left looked south, and Sabrina realized Mrs. Langtry not only had a penthouse, but one on the corner.

  Must be nice to be the other half, she thought, before the click of approaching heels caught her attention.

  A very elegant, very beautiful older woman swept into the room. She had to be in her late fifties, but she looked substantially younger. Sleekly styled brown hair hung to her shoulders. She was thin, well-dressed and had the air of one born to society and money. Sabrina instantly felt dowdy. Her instinct was to take a step back in the presence of someone so different. Instead, she forced herself to square her shoulders and stand her ground.

  “Good morning, Calhoun,” his mother said. “You’re looking well. Taller than I remember. You get that from your father, of course. The Langtrys are always tall. We’ll talk in the morning room. It’s this way.” She motioned to a doorway on their right. “Your secretary can wait in the kitchen.” Mrs. Langtry offered Sabrina a slight smile. “It’s through there, dear. Just past the dining room. Cook will get you some coffee and maybe a pastry.”

  Before she could move, Sabrina felt Cal’s hand on the small of her back. “That won’t be necessary, Mother. Sabrina isn’t my secretary, she’s my personal assistant. I don’t have any secrets from her. She’ll be joining us this morning.”

  His mother’s expression didn’t change, but her nose twitched slightly as if she’d accidently inhaled an unpleasant odor. Sabrina resisted the urge to tell Cal she was more than happy to wait in the kitchen with Cook. For one thing, she would like to find out if Cook actually had a first name, and maybe even discover the gender of that person.

  Nerves, she told herself. Okay, so she wasn’t a Langtry, but she was an Innis, and while they weren’t exactly top drawer, she’d graduated at the head of her class at UCLA. She was bright, funny and good at her job. So what if no one in her family was listed in the social registry?

  “As you wish,” Mrs. Langtry said, and led the way.

  Sabrina stared at the woman’s beige silk blouse. The fabric looked as if it was made from starlight, it was so smooth and flowing. Did the rich get fabric from a better class of silkworms? Did silk still come from worms? She would have to
look that up when they got back to Texas.

  The morning room was spacious and bright, with over-stuffed sofas and a low table set with coffee service. Sabrina saw there were only two cups. Mrs. Langtry pushed a button on the wall. When a young woman in a black dress with a starched white apron appeared, she ordered a third cup and some pastries.

  Cal motioned for Sabrina to sit on one sofa. She was grateful when he settled next to her. She leaned close and whispered, “So do the afternoon and evening rooms get progressively bigger? I have no experience with this, you know. Back in California, we had one little old living room. It was good enough for the likes of us.”

  Cal grinned. “I’ll fill you in on architecture of the rich on the way back to the hotel. It’s pretty interesting.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  She glanced up and saw Mrs. Langtry frowning. Sabrina doubted the older woman had heard any part of their conversation, so she must be unhappy with their obvious familiarity. She thought about telling Cal’s mother that there was nothing going on between them, nor was that ever going to change, but she figured the woman wouldn’t believe her, and even if she did, she would pretend not to care.

  The maid returned with a third cup, then quietly left the room, closing the door behind her.

  Mrs. Langtry poured coffee. She handed Cal his black, then looked expectantly at Sabrina. “Sugar? Cream?”

  “Cream, please.”

  Mrs. Langtry complied, then held out the cup. When Sabrina took it, the older woman’s attention turned back to her son. “I still think whatever you want to discuss would be better done in private.”

  “Sabrina knows it all, Mother. Well, not all. Obviously there are secrets even I’m not aware of, but those are the exception. After all, who do you think worked out the details of paying off Tracey’s last husband?”

 

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