Susan Mallery - Lone Star Millionaire

“In your dreams.” He pointed at the bag. “Why’d you pick that bracelet over the other one or the watch?”

She stared at him. “Do you want the truth?”

“Oh, so I’m not going to like your reasoning. Sure. Tell me the truth.”

She shrugged. “Tiffany is a sweet girl, but young. Her taste is a little, shall we say, undeveloped. While the diamond bracelet was beautiful, I thought it would be too plain. The emeralds give the bangle flash and she’ll like that.”

“Agreed. Why not the watch?”

“We’re talking about Tiffany here, Cal. The watch wasn’t digital, and I’m not completely convinced she can tell time the old-fashioned way.”

“Remind me to fire you when we get back to the office.”

“You asked me for the truth.”

“So you’re telling me it’s my fault?”

“You’re the one who chose Tiffany, and now you’re the one who doesn’t want to deal with the hassle of ending it. What do you want the card to say?”

He shifted on the seat. “Something nice. That we had a great time together, but we don’t want the same things. You know. The usual. And stop looking at me that way.”

“What way?”

“Like you disapprove. Your face gets all scrunchy. It’s not attractive.”

Sabrina resisted the urge to whip out her compact and peer at herself. She doubted that she was the least bit scrunchy, but she hated not knowing.

“I don’t have an opinion on your personal life.”

“Liar,” he countered. “Why are you always telling me what to do and always disapproving of the women I pick?”

“Tiffany was all of twenty. You’re using the term woman very loosely. I’d be willing to accept mature girl, or even postadolescent. If you actually picked a woman, I might not disapprove.”

“Colette was nearly twenty-eight. That counts.”

He had a point. Before Tiffany had been Shanna, and before her, Colette. “Okay, she counts as a woman.”

“Colette was also bright. She’d been to college and everything.” He sounded smug, as if pleased he was going to win the argument.

Sabrina shifted until she was staring at him. “For all we know, Colette was a rocket scientist, but that’s hardly the point. The woman, and I’ll concede that she was a woman, was French. She barely spoke English, and I know for a fact you weren’t the least bit interested in her brain. She was a lingerie model. Did you actually ever hold a conversation with her?”

“Sure.”

Sabrina raised her eyebrows and waited. Cal had many flaws, but dishonesty wasn’t one of them.

He sighed heavily. “Okay, it was a short conversation. What’s your point?”

“I’m not sure I have one, aside from the usual. You’re reasonably intelligent—”

He glared at her and she ignored him.

“Reasonably attractive—”

The glare became a scowl. She was also lying through her teeth. Calling Cal attractive was in the same league as describing New York City as a “large village.”

“Somewhat articulate, very successful man who in the six years I’ve known you has yet to have anything resembling a normal long-term relationship. You’re thirty-four. When are you going to settle down?”

“I’ve had long-term relationships.”

“Taking your suits to the same dry cleaner for six or seven years doesn’t count. Face it, boss, you’re not actually interested in anything but the chase. You want them until you catch them, then you lose interest. Don’t you ever think about something more than that?”

His brown eyes darkened. “My personal life is none of your business.”

She picked up the bag containing Tiffany’s parting gift. “You make it my business,” she said, no longer teasing.

He grunted. She’d heard enough of the sound to recognize it as a dismissal. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. There were times when she ignored the dismissive grunt, mostly because whatever they were talking about was important, but in this case, she let it go. Except when ending one of his relationships became her duty of the day, she really tried to stay out of his personal life. She admired Cal in many areas, but that wasn’t one of them.

The limo pulled up to the west side high-rise in the Galleria district of Houston. Sabrina braced herself for the heat, slid across the seat and stepped out onto the sidewalk. She smiled at Martin, Cal’s private driver, then followed her boss into the building that housed the corporate offices of Langtry Oil and Gas.

The business occupied the top three floors. While Cal headed directly for his suite in the southwest corner, Sabrina stopped to collect mail and chat with her secretary, Ada.

“What did you pick?” Ada asked, leaning forward and smiling. The older woman had worked for Langtry Oil and Gas for years. When Sabrina had been hired, she’d taken her time choosing an assistant of her own. Ada had a reputation for being a little grumpy and stubborn about doing things her own way, but she knew everyone in the business and had probably heard every whisper uttered in the company since the 1970s.

Sabrina handed her the Tiffany’s bag. Ada raised her eyebrows. “Tiffany’s for Tiffany? You know the subtlety is going to be lost on the girl.”

“My thoughts exactly, but it was still fun.”

As Ada opened the box and gazed at the bangle, Sabrina flipped through the mail. “What’s the word on the street?” Sabrina asked.

“Number ten should be hitting oil tonight, tomorrow at the latest, even though the engineers say another three to four days of drilling. The only other piece of news is that the clerical supervisor is still having trouble keeping his hands to himself. He cornered another two employees by the copier. They’re filing official complaints right now.”

Sabrina looked up from the mail and frowned. “He’s been warned. Cal doesn’t tolerate that kind of behavior.”

Ada slipped on the bracelet and shrugged. “Apparently he’s bought into Cal’s good ol’boy act and thinks the fact that the boss invited him to lunch once means they’re best friends. I’m not sure. I’m just telling you what’s happening.”

“I appreciate it, Ada, and I’ll tell Cal. He’ll take care of it immediately.”

Ada set the jewelry back in the box and sighed. “You did very well. She’ll love it.”

“That’s the idea. To ease the pain of losing the man. Personally, I’d rather have the cash.”

“Me, too. Tell Cal I’m ready to start our affair anytime he likes. Or we can skip the affair completely and just get right to the parting gift. I want something that can be easily returned. Remember that, Sabrina, when you’re picking it out.”

Sabrina laughed and rose to her feet. “I’ll be sure and tell him, although I don’t think he’ll appreciate the fact that you’re only interested in the gift and not the man himself. Cal considers himself something of a prize where women are concerned.”

“Oh, he is. But we all know I’m old enough to be his mother. You, on the other hand—”

“Stop it, Ada. You know I’m not interested, either.” She headed down the hall. “Talk to you later.”

“You can’t stay immune forever,” Ada called after her.

“Oh, yes I can.”

Sabrina ignored the elevator and climbed the elegant spiral staircase that led to the executive level. She’d offered Ada an office of her own up there, but her assistant claimed she had to stay down with the “little” people in order to hear all the good gossip.

As she climbed, Sabrina finished sorting through the mail. Nothing pressing, nothing she couldn’t handle on her own. She reached her office, collected the messages Ada had left for her, then continued through to Cal’s suite.

Floor-to-ceiling windows filled two walls of his huge office. Aside from the requisite desk big enough to land a Harrier jet on, a conference table and two leather sofa groups to encourage chatty conversations, he also had a big-screen television, every computer game known to man and a temperature-controlled wine “closet” that stored a few dozen of his favorites. There was a full kitchen and dining room beyond, an oversize bathroom complete with shower and Jacuzzi tub and a private elevator that led directly down to the parking garage.