Susan Mallery - Lone Star Millionaire

As Sabrina approached the desk, she tried to ignore the view out the windows. Houston was about the flattest place on earth, and if she bothered to look, she could see forever. She’d watched thunderstorms roll in, perfect sunsets and, once, even a tornado dance across the land. In her opinion, Texas had too much weather. She missed Southern California, where the only way to tell the changing of the seasons was by the clothes being sold in the department stores.

Cal finished his call and motioned for her to take a seat across from his desk. She sank down into the leather chair and set Tiffany’s parting gift on the chair next to hers.

Her boss met her gaze then looked away…almost as if he was embarrassed. How odd.

“Anything the matter?” she asked.

“No,” he answered. “Just following up on something. It’s…personal.”

“Oh.” Although she didn’t know everything about Cal’s life, she knew almost everything. And it had been a long time since he’d kept anything “personal” from her. At least she thought it had been.

“It’s nothing important. Any of that for me?” he said, referring to the stack of mail in her hand and deliberately changing the subject. He wasn’t the least bit subtle, she thought, and decided to let it go.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” she told him. “A few invitations.”

He grimaced. “Charity functions.”

“Of course.”

“Just send a check.”

She kept her smile hidden. If Cal wasn’t “involved” with a woman, he got fairly reclusive. Society matrons loathed his dry spells, as he was often the life of their parties. It would take him a couple of months to find someone to replace Tiffany, then his social life would be off and running.

“I’ve heard from the number ten rig,” he said. “The engineers figure another three to four days, but I think they’re going to hit in the next twenty-four hours.”

He never ceased to amaze her. Ada’s contacts had said the same thing. The difference was Cal made his assessment from his downtown office with nothing more than daily reports to guide him. Ada’s source was an old oil man from way back who phoned her when they were getting close.

“What does Ada say?” he asked.

Cal watched as Sabrina tried to hide her annoyance at his question. She didn’t like that he knew about her “source” in the office and would have preferred him to think she figured everything out on her own.

“The same,” she admitted. “Within the day.”

“Anything else I should know about?”

“The clerical supervisor is still having trouble keeping his hands to himself. A couple of staff members are filing official complaints.”

Cal leaned back in his chair and rested his hands on the padded leather arms. “I can’t say that I blame them. I hate it when this happens.”

The coolly spoken words were enough to make Sabrina straighten. She reached for a pad of paper on the edge of his desk and grabbed a pen. “Go ahead.”

“He’s already been warned. Have Human Resources investigate the allegations and prepare the case, then fire him. Oh, I want them to promote from within this time—all the better if it’s a woman so we can regain a little trust in that department—but tell them to be sure it’s the best candidate, someone with a good record of employee interaction.”

“That’s it?”

He gazed at his personal assistant. Her wide blue eyes met his unblinkingly. “What did you expect? That I would call him out at dawn? Pistols at twenty paces?”

“I thought you’d at least threaten to beat him up.”

Cal thought about the self-important young man who had been with the company less than a year. He’d been hired out of college, all cocky and convinced he was the next industry leader. Cal had put him in a supervisory position to season him. Obviously it hadn’t worked.

“I would like nothing more than to show him what it was like to be physically intimidated by someone with the authority to hire and fire, not to mention someone physically stronger. However, letting him go under these circumstances is going to be plenty of punishment. He’ll be left with a black mark on his employment record. So much for a rapid rise to success.”

“Do you want to give him an exit interview?”

Cal grinned. “Let Ada do it.”

Sabrina shook her head. “You are too cruel. That’s perfect. He’ll hate it.”

“And Ada will adore it. I call that a win-win. Oh, and set up a department meeting with the clerical staff in the next few days. I want to talk to them myself. I don’t approve of that kind of behavior. It’s illegal and immoral. I want to reassure everyone that the situation is being corrected. Immediately.”

Sabrina nodded as she took notes. She bent her head slightly, and the afternoon sunlight slipped through the window and caught in her short red hair—a layered cut falling just to the bottom of her collar. Her features were even, pleasant, if unremarkable. She had a nice smile, intelligent blue eyes and a figure that, after six years, was still something of a mystery to him. Despite the fact that she’d accompanied him on several working vacations, she always wore tailored clothing. Even her shorts-and-shirt sets had been proper and slightly loose. The only time he’d seen her in a bathing suit, it had been dark, and the shadows had prevented him from catching more than a glimpse of the occasional curve.

Not that he was overly interested in Sabrina’s body. It was more male pride than desire. She was the perfect assistant—smart, attentive and not afraid to say what she thought. She had a gut instinct he’d come to rely upon, about people and situations. She didn’t call attention to herself, and when he asked, she was willing to take care of his dirty work. The fact that she didn’t turn him on was a plus. He didn’t want the distraction and he couldn’t afford to lose her.

He wondered what her reaction would be if he told her that the phone call she’d interrupted had been with an editor from Prominence Magazine. A letter had come to his house yesterday, telling him that he’d been named one of the world’s most eligible bachelors by the magazine…and he’d been trying nicely to withdraw himself from such an “award.” Unfortunately, he’d hung up agreeing to do an interview instead. He could just imagine the way Sabrina’s eyes would sparkle with amusement once she heard about his most recent “honor.” He would definitely wait to tell her.

They spent the next hour going through business. “Don’t forget the trip to Singapore at the end of September,” he said. “We’re discussing the joint drilling venture.”

She continued to make notes. “I remember. Maybe we can stop by Hong Kong on our way back and have some Chinese food. There’s a lovely little restaurant there.” She glanced at him, and her expression was innocence itself.

“I remember,” he growled.

“Oh, Cal, you’re not still sore that I beat you, are you?”

“I was never sore about anything. You got lucky in the fourth quarter.”

“I was ahead the entire year. You’ve just conveniently forgotten that part.” She grinned. “I’m also ahead this year.”

He ignored her comment. For the past five years they’d had a bet on the stock market. On January first, he fronted them both ten thousand dollars to play the market. Whoever had the most money at the end of the year was the winner. The loser had to treat the winner to lunch anywhere the winner said. Last year, Sabrina had won and had claimed a taste for Chinese food…from Hong Kong.

“Actually, this year I’ve been thinking of Italian,” she murmured.

“Rome?” he asked.

“Maybe Venice. I’ve never been to Venice.”

“You’ve never been to Rome, either.”