by Debra Webb
The letter slipped from his fingers and fluttered down to his desk. Why hadn’t she told him that part too? Why had she just walked away?
Because she’d expected the worst…and he hadn’t given her the first reason to think otherwise.
John punched in the number for long distance information. “Chicago,” he said in response to the request for the city. “Amy Wells.” When the operator gave him the number he jotted it down. “Can you give me the address as well?” He quickly scribbled that info next to the telephone number. “Thank you.” He hung up.
One decision down.
Chapter Twelve
John scrawled his official signature across the line that would seal the deal of the century. Cal-Borne Alliance was a reality.
Cheers went up throughout Winterborne’s office and a cork popped from a champagne bottle. Long-stemmed glasses filled with the celebratory bubbly were passed all around.
Edgar raised his glass and announced, “To a future brimming with prosperity and—”
“Better gas prices!” someone in the back of the room shouted.
“Hear! Hear!” Edgar agreed heartily.
Edgar clicked his glass against his daughter’s, then J.R.’s and John’s. He took a deep swallow, then added for their ears only, “And to other ventures.” He smiled knowingly, glancing from John to his daughter.
“Daddy, if we don’t get over to the restaurant, we’re going to be late,” Regina cooed, then batted her extra-long lashes at John.
He was reasonably sure that lashes that long couldn’t possibly be real. Damn, he hated to waste another hour dealing with her swooning and flirting. One would think the woman could take a hint. He’d all but told her he wasn’t interested. Still, she was a persistent little thing.
“You’re right, my dear,” Edgar crooned. “We’ll start in that direction now.”
Edgar made several more statements that sent the crowd in his huge office into cheers once more. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, Regina and I have to see to the appetites of these two fine gentlemen.”
John shook dozens of hands as he was ushered across the room by Regina. She’d snagged his left arm and headed for the door as soon as the words were out of her father’s mouth, scarcely giving him time to grab his hat. He could hear J.R. and Edgar accepting congratulations behind them as they followed in the path he and Regina cut through the crowd. The woman was like a bulldozer. She’d set her sights on the door and in no time flat they were through it.
She didn’t stop until they stood before the bank of luxurious elevators. Edgar Winterborne had himself one plush set-up here. If this was any indication of his taste, his home likely rivaled a palace. No wonder his daughter was so spoiled. She’d lived in the quintessential lap of luxury.
“I can’t wait to come visit you in Texas,” she purred, cuddling up to him. “I’ve heard you cowboys really know how to treat a lady right.”
She whispered the last just quickly enough to prevent their fathers from overhearing as they joined them at the elevator.
“We do indeed,” John agreed, forcing a smile.
On the elevator J.R. and Edgar made small talk while John tried not to notice how Regina stared at him. The woman hadn’t let go of his arm yet and she gave him the once-over at least twice as if she had X-ray vision and could see right through his suit. He hoped like hell she couldn’t read his thoughts. Though he didn’t much like her, he wouldn’t want to hurt her feelings.
Taking the opportunity to disengage himself from her by adjusting his hat into place as they exited the building almost worked, but she grabbed his arm the moment he dropped it back to his side.
“I do love those cowboy hats,” she said flirtatiously to both John and his father. If her smile were any wider, her head would split right in two.
John ignored the comment, but his daddy, being from the old school of charm, winked at her and said, “That’s why we wear ’em, darlin’, to impress the ladies.”
John rolled his eyes and resisted to urge to tell her the truth. They wore them to shield against the harsh Texas sun while on the range. He rarely left the house without his boots or his hat, even when traveling. He had left the hat behind the night he’d taken Amy to the country club. The memory slammed into him full force. He’d wanted complete openness with her…hadn’t wanted any mysteries. He pushed away the painful memory.
Several reporters rushed across the parking area to meet them, snapping photographs and asking questions about the merger. Edgar had insisted on keeping the press out of this morning’s meeting.
John and his father allowed the Winterbornes to ride that pony. Neither of them had any desire to ham it up. This was business, it wasn’t conducted for the notoriety. It was about helping the nation reduce its dependence on foreign oil, and, yes, that was news. But John was big enough to admit that he wasn’t about to play the part of hero when his company would greatly benefit from the merger. It seemed a little wrong to him. Let the Winterbornes play the selfless martyrs. This was like everything else in the business world, it was mainly about money. The rest was merely a fringe benefit. To pretend it was anything more would be an untruth.
Damn, he had a hell of a bad attitude this afternoon. He loaded into the limo with the rest. But then, spending time with this bunch, excluding his father, would give anybody a bad attitude.
Whatever else the Winterbornes thought they could still talk him into, they were wrong. No way was he getting hooked up with Miss Spoiled-Rotten here. The very idea that his father and Nate could have believed for one second that he would agree to any such arrangement once he’d met the woman was beyond him. Well, giving them grace, they hadn’t met her either. She was attractive enough. Long dark hair, petite figure. But her eyes gave away the cold-hearted female who lived inside that lovely shell. He’d spent three hours with her and already he knew this wasn’t going to happen.
Though the Winterbornes had proceeded with the business merger without any further discussion of a “family” merger, John got the distinct impression they still thought it was a possibility.
Lunch went just like the rest of the morning. His father and her father discussed everything from business to the real estate market while John fought off Regina’s advances.
Her foot had shimmied its way up his leg about a dozen times, he’d run out of ways to shift to avoid her probing by the time the main course was through.
“Anyone for dessert?” Edgar asked, waylaying the waiter in case anyone wanted to see a menu.
Regina giggled and batted her lashes. John had a feeling her idea of dessert wasn’t on the menu. As she grew bolder, her foot slid clear to his crotch.
He scooted his chair back and stood abruptly. “I sure hate to have to run out on you folks, but I have another appointment. Please stay and have dessert on me.” He dropped some bills on the table to cover the lunch and tip, then nodded to Regina and her father respectively. “We’ll talk again soon.”
“Gracious, boy, you’re right.” J.R. rose and dropped his linen napkin on the table. “The time just clean got away from me.” He thrust his hand at Edgar. “Good to be working with you, Edgar.”
Startled that his father had gone along with his abrupt departure, as soon as they were on the sidewalk outside the restaurant John asked, “Why’d you back me up? You know I don’t have an appointment.”
J.R. walked alongside him for a time before answering. “I almost made the mistake of my life,” he said finally.
John was so surprised by his statement he stopped to look him in the eye. “How’s that?” John had his own ideas but he wanted to hear the old man say it.
J.R. looked wearier than John had ever seen him, and worry kicked in. Was there something more going on here than he knew about?
“I was all ready to go along with this whole scheme. Nate was certain it would be the best way to ensure the deal went through.”
Nate. Well, that was what he did. He’d served as Calhoun Oil’s top advisor for
a lifetime. He knew the oil business inside and out. He didn’t miss a trick.
J.R. shrugged. “It sounded like a good thing. You’d have yourself a wife and we’d close the biggest deal of the century. Considering Edgar Winterborne’s reputation, how bad could she be?”
Well, they both had their answer to that one. “Dad, it wasn’t altogether your fault. We all—”
J.R.’s expression hardened. “It was my fault. I almost married you off to that.” He flung his arm back toward the restaurant. “I would never have forgiven myself if I’d saddled you with that kind of heartache.” Shaking his head he started forward again.
John followed. He and his father had not discussed Amy. In fact, J.R. had remained oddly silent about the whole affair.
When they’d walked another couple of blocks in no particular direction, J.R. spoke again. “We have to make it clear that no personal relationship is going to come of this merger.”
“I’ve tried to make that as clear as I can,” John countered, “they don’t seem to want to take the hint.”
“Then we’ll just have to tell ’em outright,” J.R. said, his temper rising. “I’ll tell them.”
John smiled at his father’s sudden determination on the subject. “Why not let Nate tell them?”
J.R. waved off the suggestion. “Hell, I don’t want to give the man a heart attack. I had as much to do with this as he did, I’ll take care of it.”
Another period of silence lapsed between them as they strolled along the sidewalk that grew more crowded with each block they covered. Shop after shop and department store after department store dotted the Magnificent Mile. It was just three in the afternoon, still a couple hours before Amy would be off work, if her schedule was the typical nine-to-five.
John started to tell his father that he intended to see her when J.R. suddenly spoke.
“The way I see it, we’ve screwed things up badly enough. We need to set it to rights ASAP.” J.R. paused again, sending pedestrians scurrying around the obstacle he made in their path. “You need to find her. Tell her you made a mistake and see if you can work things out.”
John stared at his father in disbelief. “You’re talking about Amy,” he said, just to be sure he wasn’t somehow confused here.
J.R. quirked a bushy blond brow. “Now who else would I be talking about? Do you think I didn’t notice the way you two looked at each other? The way you’ve been moping around since she left? Something came to life between the two of you…something special. Don’t let it slip away just because she pretended to be somebody else for a couple of days. According to Liam she had her reasons. We all make mistakes. Just look at what I almost got you into.”
Liam? Now what did he have to do with any of this? He frowned for a second then realized that Liam had been the one who found the letter.
“I was planning to see her this evening,” John admitted. “I can catch a commercial flight back tomorrow.”
“Nonsense,” J.R. scoffed. “You do what you have to. The plane can stay here with you. I’ll take a commercial flight back.” He grinned. “It’s been too long since I enjoyed the company of a good stewardess anyway.”
Who could argue with that?
“All right,” John agreed. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
His father did something completely unexpected then, he grabbed John and hugged him. “Don’t let her get away, boy, or you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.” When he drew back, he looked his son up and down. “I’ll call the pilot and Nate and let them know about the change in plans.” He scowled. “For God’s sakes, find some flowers or chocolates or something. Don’t show up at her door empty-handed. Women like that mushy kind of stuff.”
John laughed and gave his father a little salute. “Will do.”
J.R. was right, John mused, as he watched him flag down a taxi. He couldn’t let Amy get away. She was the one. No matter how they’d come to meet or the circumstances that had torn them apart briefly, they belonged together and he intended to see that happen.
Every minute he wasted was a minute he could have spent with her.
Time was too precious to waste.
AMY CLIMBED OFF the bus and quickly covered the two blocks to her apartment building. Taking the bus to work was so easy, driving was pointless, except on Fridays when she went to the bank or on other special occasions. In the empty stairwell, she tugged her mail from the box cursing under her breath. What was it with these mailmen? How did they expect to cram so much into a box and hope the recipient would be able to remove it undamaged?
She smiled in spite of the mail hassle. Today had been her first day in research. Already a temp was filling in for the receptionist who was being trained to be Mildred’s new assistant. Life was good.
She ruthlessly squashed the little voice that wanted to remind her of the one thing that wasn’t right. She would not think about cowboys or Texas or perfect men or anything else male and sexy.
Career first, career first, she chanted as she climbed the stairs to the third floor. Relationships only got in the way of moving up the career ladder. She truly was a Colby agent-in-training now. She had to focus on that goal. See the goal, reach the goal, was her new mantra.
Banishing the image of the handsome man who tried so hard to invade her every waking thought she took the last step up to the third-floor landing. She would eventually stop thinking about him…stop dreaming about him. A heavy sigh punctuated the realization that she probably wouldn’t ever be able to forget him or to completely put him out of her mind. He was there to stay.
She looked toward her apartment door, blinked, then looked again.
He was here.
He smiled, his Stetson in one hand, a huge bouquet of red roses in the other. “Hello, Amy.”
Her heart came close to stopping completely. A shiver went through her at hearing him say her name. “H-hello,” she stuttered. Why was he here?
The abrupt pound of footfalls on the stairs momentarily jerked her attention in that direction. Lance, her downstairs neighbor, rounded the landing, grinning from ear to ear.
“Amy,” he called out to her, “wait up.”
Her gaze swung back to John. That heart-stopping smile of his had dimmed.
“Maybe I should have called first,” John said, his voice tight.
Lance came up beside her. “Oh, sorry. Hello,” he said to John, obviously only just then noticing his presence. “Here’s that CD I borrowed from you for my party,” he said to Amy. “Thanks, it’s the bomb!”
She accepted the returned CD. “I’m glad you liked it.” She managed a passable smile though she couldn’t come close to mustering her friend’s enthusiasm.
Lance waved his arms magnanimously. “Everybody loved it!” He sent a nod in John’s direction then gave Amy a quick peck on the cheek and waggled his fingers at her. “See ya around.” He disappeared as suddenly as he’d appeared. But then, that was Lance. Always on the move.
Amy turned back to her unexpected visitor. His entire posture had changed. He looked ready to bite off somebody’s head and spit down their throat. His fingers were crushing the stems of the lovely roses.
“Here,” she said, moving quickly to their rescue. “Let me take those.”
He relinquished his hold on the flowers but trapped her just as abruptly with that fierce gaze. Her confusion at his sudden change in demeanor cleared with just one look into those intense blue eyes. He was mad as hell. Blatant jealousy glittered like sparkling jewels amid the black thunder of his fury.
“Would you like to come in?” she asked, pretending not to notice his fury.
His mouth worked for a moment before an answer was forthcoming. “Yes,” he finally barked.
Oh, he was having some real trouble dealing with his anger. Amy couldn’t help a smile. If he only knew. She definitely was not Lance’s type. But, she decided with just a pinch of glee, he didn’t need to know that right away.
She unlocked her door and pushed it open, pr
aying she hadn’t left any undies or other embarrassing items lying around.
After she’d gotten over feeling sorry for herself on Tuesday, she’d given the place a thorough cleaning to keep her mind occupied. So at least there wasn’t an inch of dust lying around as there usually was. No empty pizza boxes or laundry in need of folding.
“Make yourself at home.” She motioned to her well-worn sofa and quickly darted into the kitchen to find a vase for the roses. She dug around under the sink until she found a glass pitcher that would be big enough. The only vase she had was far too small. There had to be a dozen and a half flowers here, not to mention greenery and baby’s breath. While the water filled the large-mouthed pitcher, she watched John wander about her place. She couldn’t help wondering how he would see it. It wasn’t much. Small, jam-packed with her stuff. But it was comfortable. It was home.
The living room, kitchen and tiny dining area were actually one room with only the bar and overhead cabinets serving as a barrier between the spaces. Down a short hall was her bathroom and a good-sized bedroom. She’d decorated in sort of a funky traditional style. Her old sofa was her favorite piece. She’d found it while she was out junking one day. Had gotten Lance and a couple of his friends to help her get it home. The rest of the stuff she’d picked up at bargain sales and antique shops. She loved an eclectic mix. The very contemporary art scattered here and there provided the funky jab of unexpectedness. She smiled. It was her.
She jumped, startled by the water running over the rim of the pitcher. After pouring out the excess, she dried the exterior and arranged the flowers. It looked spectacular and smelled even better. She placed it on the dining table and turned to the man who’d kindly brought them to her. “Thanks, they’re beautiful.” What was he doing here? She lost her breath all over again when she dared to consider one particular possibility.
