“Don’t need to.”
“Do it anyway.” I stepped off the porch. “We’ll talk over the holiday.”
“What time do you want to fly out? And are you going commercial?”
Of course she’d be thinking about that already too. She raised a good point. Did I have use of the Carter Energy jet anymore?
“I’m not sure yet. I’ll let you know,” I said, feeling so thankful Holly would be by my side.
“Sounds like a plan. In the meantime, I’ll see to it everything you need makes it to New York,” she called when I was halfway down the sidewalk.
“I packed enough for a week or so—shit, I forgot work shoes.”
Gabriel’s eyes widened, and Holly covered his ears. “You’ll have them by Monday.”
“Thanks, and uh, sorry about that, Firecracker.”
“That’ll be a dollar—”
Holly squeezed his shoulder and shook her head, her blonde locks flying. He immediately clamped his mouth shut.
She stared past me to the street and furrowed her brow. “Is that Mr. Carter’s truck?” I stopped in front of the hood and gave her a withering look. “Right.” She nodded, running her hand through Gabriel’s hair. “Drive safe.”
I climbed into the truck then watched them waving as I drove away. That wasn’t quite the disaster I’d envisioned. Hell, if she was coming with me to New York, some of my tension was already eased. But I had one more stop to make before leaving town. That wasn’t going to go nearly as smoothly.
Chapter Six
Easton
“What do you mean I no longer have access to these bank accounts? I’m the chief financial officer.”
I paced the bedroom of the corporate jet bound for Burdett, grateful for the engine’s noise so my parents didn’t hear my raised voice.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Carter, but you aren’t listed as someone I can discuss Carter Energy’s account with.”
“That’s hogwash, and you know it, Christopher. How long have you been manager of the bank?” I challenged, digging in my briefcase until my fingers landed on the heart-shaped stress ball Mulaney gave me as a joke. I never went anywhere without it.
“This has nothing to do with our history. I have a responsibility for account security—”
“Oh yeah? You’ve told me whatever I wanted to know in the past, so I don’t get how pulling reports for me now is a security threat.” Squeeze. Release. Squeeze. Release. The motion did nothing to curb my stress but it was better than punching something. It was Christmas Eve, for God’s sake. I should be singing Jingle Bells instead of arguing with the bank manager.
“Mr. Carter, you had access to the information prior to the sale—”
“Do I have access to my own personal account? Or has that changed too?”
Fingers on a keyboard clacked in the background, and I gripped the heart so hard, I was surprised it didn’t disintegrate.
“What can I help you with on that account?” That calm tone reserved for bank managers grated on my nerves.
“You really had to check to see if I was authorized on my own account? What the hell has happened at that bank?” I glanced toward the oval window of the plane and wished I could open it. The air had gone stale and was stifling.
Christopher cleared his throat. “We’ve had some recent changes. This is protocol.”
“Are you sure you don’t need an eye scan and a thumbprint?”
“I’m happy to provide any information you require regarding your personal—”
I hung up and tossed the phone on the bed. SPE certainly hadn’t wasted any time changing the power structure. Had they pulled Dad’s clearance too, or just mine? Everything was happening so fast, I wondered if he even knew. I looked at the stress ball, the smiley face printed on it mocking me.
If I didn’t have access to our bank accounts any longer, was I really the CFO? Then again, we’d sold. No one had said that was still my role in our division. I’d made the cardinal sin of assuming.
I still had access to all the accounts through EXODUS, the software program Drew had written so I could manage our financials in one place. Early on, he’d seen my frustration at having to log in to so many different places on a daily basis. The software pulled information from every institution and housed our internal reports. He’d named it that because he said the program would be the flight of my stress. He’d been right to a degree.
I’d barely slept last night, scouring through everything I had to see where I’d made the mistake when it occurred to me to go directly to the bank as a cross-check. I still couldn’t find the massive loss that had driven my father to sell our company to our competitor. Things weren’t the best, but we weren’t down enough for drastic action. We’d prepared for tough times.
Mulaney had hedged our investments, pushing us to diversify beyond oil into other energy segments. Her vision had propelled us forward, not toward dire straits. She’d been the right choice as interim CEO when Dad had stepped aside to spend more time with Mama.
We’d all come to work at Carter Energy straight after graduating from college. I had a couple years’ head start on Mulaney, though she’d always seemed light years ahead of me when it came to the oil business. She lived and breathed it. Her passion was contagious, and even after all these years, she had an unrelenting fire. It was why she was so successful, not only with the company but in her personal investments too.
But she’d been a distraction for me. One I was beginning to believe may have cost me the legacy I thought we were building together. She was so damn stubborn, and I was fool enough to think I could be the one to change her. In reality, she was the one who had changed me. I’d been soft when it came to her and allowed her to get away with far too much. That stopped now.
“Easton.” My mother ducked her head in the bedroom. “We’re landing soon.”
I dropped the stress ball back into my briefcase and put my phone in my pocket. Mama grabbed my discarded suit jacket from the bed and offered it to me. As I took it, I opened my mouth to ask her if she knew if Dad’s access to the bank accounts had been revoked too before I thought better of it. She had enough to deal with as it was.
“Quick trip, wasn’t it?” I draped an arm around her frail shoulders as we wandered toward the main cabin.
“I’m ready to be there,” she said tiredly, stopping just before we reached the opening to the sitting area where Dad was reading the paper.
“Me too. I’ve missed Grandma Carter. I could use a piece of her red velvet cake right about now.” The thought was bittersweet. Usually Drew and I made a beeline for her kitchen the second we got to her house. Grandma Carter was hard on us, but she spoiled us rotten too.
“You should get the recipe, maybe help her make one while we’re in Burdett,” Mama suggested, a not so subtle reminder that time was precious, and one day Grandma Carter wouldn’t be around to make our favorite foods.
“If she’ll let me in the kitchen, I’d like that.”
She placed a hand on my cheek, her expression tender. “You’re going to New York after her. I’m glad.”
My chest tightened. We weren’t talking about Grandma Carter anymore. “It wasn’t really a choice, Mama.”
“Things have a way of working out despite how we think they’re going to go.”
“I’ve been patient like you said. There’s just no getting through to her.” I should’ve put the stress ball in my pocket.
“You will.”
“I don’t see how. She lied to me.” After all this time, that still hurt. I expected more from Mulaney.
“Are you sure about that?”
“We had an agreement, and she didn’t hold up her end of it. That’s a lie.”
“It’ll be good for the two of you to be in a new situation together. Just make sure you have to spend a lot of hours with each other. Don’t give her the opportunity to keep avoiding you.” A mischievousness I hadn’t seen the likes of from my mother in an age appeared.
“Any ideas on how to do that?”
She winked. “I can think of a thing or two. There’s going to be a lot of shuffling of people in the new office. Space will probably be at a premium, don’t you think?”
I shrugged. I’d only been to the building once. “I have no idea—”
“Don’t you think?”
I canted my head and squinted at her, realization dawning. “What other ideas do you have cooking up there?” I tapped her temple.
“We’ll make her come around one way or another,” she promised. And Mama would. Mulaney had been a daughter to her since we were kids.
I squeezed her shoulders. “I’m holding you to that.”
Chapter Seven
Mulaney
About forty-five minutes out of Houston, I turned off the two-lane highway onto a dirt drive, bumping along past the nativity scene in front of the house until I pulled up to an immaculate white stable with a colonial red roof. I recognized the old Chevy truck parked out front as Franklin Harper’s. I’d been coming to Franklin’s farm for years to ride his horses, an escape for me when the stress became too much.
I jumped down onto the dirt, a layer of dust coating my leather riding boots. A gust of wind had me grabbing my jacket out of the truck, tugging it around me as I headed past the stables to the pasture behind it. Franklin leaned on the metal fence, a piece of straw sticking out of his mouth as he watched a wild beast with a deep chestnut coat run in the enclosure.
“Mulaney.” He stuck out his hand as I approached, and we shook. Franklin was almost a decade older than I was, in his late forties, though his weathered skin made him appear more mature. I’d never seen him wear anything other than dirty jeans, a threadbare flannel shirt, and a light-colored cowboy hat that covered his salt and pepper hair. “He ain’t gonna like this.” Franklin nodded toward the horse that trotted over when he noticed me.
“Hey, handsome,” I said. He blew out a puff of air through his nostrils into my face. “I know you’re mad because I didn’t make it out here for our date last week, and you’re going to stay mad at me for a while.” I patted the end of his nose, and he snorted, taking off again at a full-blown run.
“He nearly tore the trailer up when we brought him here,” Franklin cautioned.
“That was a few years ago. And he was only a colt.”
“He ain’t no better now,” he fired back wryly.
Franklin trained horses and taught people to ride them. Three years ago, he’d gotten word of a colt that had been severely beaten by his owner, trying to tame the wild beast into submission. Because of that, the horse couldn’t stand to be near anyone. He went berserk at the sight of a whip and became only marginally crazy in proximity to a saddle. It was sheer circumstance I’d been here the day he arrived. Franklin wasn’t exaggerating. The poor boy had bucked and banged against the trailer during transport. He was cut and bleeding when he bolted out of confinement once the door was opened.
He was wild, couldn’t be tamed, and the most beautiful colt I’d ever seen, and I’d seen my share. His dark coat was shiny, and his luminous eyes were dangerous. I was instantly smitten. We’d had a moment. With all the frenetic energy around him as he zigzagged the pasture, he’d stopped, those menacing eyes focused on me. Understanding passed between us in a split second. I wasn’t like other women, and he wasn’t like other horses. He recognized that, saw something in me he didn’t mind so much.
I bought him that day, a relief to Franklin until I told him my new boy was staying there. I couldn’t very well keep him in Houston, and more than that, I’d grown to trust Franklin. He had a way with horses. He treated them with a gentle hand. Franklin eventually relented, always willing to do what was best for the horse. I’d named him Ragnor, which meant warrior from the gods, but we lovingly called him Rage for short.
He was mesmerizing, all untamed power and fury. My boy was showing off for me, though to the untrained eye he looked scary and deranged. It hadn’t taken me long to learn Ragnor lashed out because he was afraid.
“I let him out as soon as you called. He’s been running off some steam, but you know that don’t mean nothing. I’ve been trying to work up a plan to get him in the trailer, but I ain’t come up with one yet other than a sedative.”
“I spoke with Mitch about it on the way here. He advised against it unless it was absolutely necessary. Here’s what he told me I’d need.” I dove in the pocket of my jeans and produced a piece of paper where I’d scrawled his recommendation. Mitch was a veterinarian on our family farm. I trusted him implicitly when it came to the well-being of a horse. “Do you have any of this on hand?”
Franklin took the paper from me and scanned it. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll go round that up.” He started to walk away and stopped after a few feet before turning back to me. “You want me to hook your trailer up to your truck?”
“If you don’t mind.”
I tossed him the keys, and he took off. My attention went back to Ragnor. Franklin let me keep a horse trailer here for times just like this. Ragnor trotted over, doing a quick pass without stopping, pretending to ignore me.
When he made a second pass, I called out to him, “Hey, handsome. Why don’t you come over here and see me? We’ve got something we need to talk about, and you aren’t gonna like it.”
He snorted and kept moving, coming over to me not one second before he was good and ready. “I need you to be a good boy today, Rage. I’m taking you somewhere special. Somewhere you’ll like a whole lot once you get there.” I reached up and stroked behind his ears, where he liked it best. “It’s just the getting there that’s going to be rough.”
He nuzzled me, and I kissed the end of his nose, which he accepted by blowing his breath in my face again. I was the only person he let ride him or get close at all. Ragnor allowed Franklin to feed him and clean his stall, barely tolerating any sort of grooming. But he trusted me to touch him, certain I’d never hurt him. After today, though, he was going to be furious with me. I half expected I’d sleep in the barn with him tonight when we got to the ranch, just like I had the first night he was here.
I wasn’t sure how often I’d be able to see him after I moved to New York. I prayed that between Mitch, my dad, or my granddaddy, Ragnor would respond positively to one of them. Hell, maybe Ruby could work her magic on him.
When I’d called Mitch that morning, he’d asked why move the horse if it would distress him. I hadn’t even told Mama and Daddy I was bringing a wild stallion home, swearing Mitch to secrecy. I figured once we were there, they couldn’t say no. The truth was, I didn’t have a good answer for moving Ragnor. I just felt he’d do better at the Jacobs Ranch with his family, even though he hadn’t met them yet. With me being so far away in New York, I needed that peace of mind.
“You got any ideas on how we’re getting him in the trailer?” Franklin asked when he returned.
“He’s going to have to do it on his own.”
Franklin had plenty of horses that would load up without a lead. That took a lot of time, patience, and practice—things we were short on today. Rage hated anything touching him. It had taken a year for him to let me put reins on him so I could ride. He’d gotten better about it, but I didn’t want to stress him any more in an already frightening situation for him.
“Mulaney, you know that takes trust, right?”
“I do.”
Today we were going to find out just how strong the bond was between my handsome beast and me. I only hoped my confidence in him wasn’t misplaced.
Chapter Eight
Easton
I caught the baseball Dad tossed to me across Grandma Carter’s front yard and pitched it back.
“You ever have regrets about not pursuing this?” He held up the ball and threw it with a little more zip.
I shielded my eyes from the bright afternoon sun before I snagged it from the air. As angry as I was with him about what had happened, I needed the normalcy of this conversation when everything around me was anything
but.
“Minor leagues would’ve been about the best I could do, and that was a stretch. I loved playing in college, but that was as far as I was going to go and honestly, that was enough. Drew’s the one who missed out. He’s more talented than I could have ever dreamed to be.” Doing this with my dad and brother when he was around was all the baseball I needed. Hopefully, one day we’d be able to do this with my children. I just had to have some first. A lasting relationship might help on that front too, but it was hard to make anything work when the company always came first.
“What about working for Carter Energy? Are you happy that was the choice you made?” Dad ignored the forbidden subject I’d dared to breach. Drew and baseball. I let it go too.
My parents and I were always open and honest with each other and that often led to many meaningful conversations. I’d been living with them for months, and we talked about lots of things, but never my life choices. What was prompting these questions?
I held the ball for a second and with conviction replied, “Never thought about doing anything else.” I released the baseball and watched it fly in the cold wind.
“Is that because I took the choice away from you?”
Leather hit leather with a smack when he caught it.
“Why would you think that?”
He threw the baseball back to me. This time I had to stretch to catch it.
“No reason.” Dad looked out across the pasture. He’d grown up in this house, made the decision right here with my grandfather to try to make something more of the company he’d started. It would’ve been easy to stay in Burdett and try to make a decent living. My father wanted more. So did I.
“I’ve never questioned my place until yesterday.”
“You’re still angry.”
The ball sailed over his head.
Heartbreaker: A Workplace Friends-To-Lovers Romance (Paths To Love Book 3) Page 4
