After the Interview (3 page)

Chapter Two

As Zoe entered her hotel room, she saw the clock by the bed read 5:45. That gave her an hour and fifteen minutes to take a shower, dress and get in cocktail party mode. She should probably eat a bit too; hitting this party on an empty stomach could be a bad idea. Picking up information while meeting the oil boom barons was going to require concentration, especially with C J as her escort. Her second shower of the day was quick, providing time to dry her hair and get through her minimal makeup routine. Zoe also took about fifteen minutes to jot down some notes from the interview and send an email to Jeff, her editor, letting him know the interview had gone well and she was headed out for more work this evening.

About to close her laptop, Zoe had a sudden idea she couldn’t resist. Within seconds she had located C J Fairchild’s life in the gossip pages of the local newspaper. He didn’t seem to miss a social function. One headline called him the most eligible and unattainable bachelor in the city. From the photos it looked like he had “dated” women from all over the globe. When did this man find time to work? A grin lit up Zoe’s face. C J Fairchild might be just what she needed right now.

Walking to the closet, Zoe looked at her reflection in the mirror and wondered why this man interested her so much. Oh face it, he excites you physically and that has not happened in a long time, she thought. Pulling the tight fitting emerald green dress over her chest and hips, Zoe couldn’t help thinking about what it would feel like to have C J run his hands over those same curves.

“Stop this insanity,” Zoe said out loud, much to her amazement.

Shoes, she thought, should be her focus at the moment because one of her black slingbacks was missing. Ah, there it was under the chair. The bedside phone rang and startled Zoe. 7:05. Fashionably late, Mr. Fairchild, she thought.

“Zoe, it’s C J. I’m in the lobby and ready to head out when you are,” he said.

“Be there in five,” Zoe said and hung up the phone, not waiting for a reply.

On the way out the door, she grabbed her phone and purse. Don’t act so eager, she thought; collect yourself and be cool and calm. That thought vanished the minute Zoe stepped into the lobby and saw C J. He was standing with his back to her but she would have known him anywhere. Why? Because his black suit was impeccable and spoke of elegance, and no less than three other women in the lobby were openly staring his way. Turning as Zoe stepped out of the elevator, C J broke into an almost conspiratorial grin when he saw her approaching. His eyes openly traveled the length of her body, making Zoe feel like she had been caressed.

“My guess is you plan to single-handedly take the cocktail party by storm and derail any business talk this evening, Ms. Alden, because you are stunning.”

“Why thank you, Mr. Fairchild,” was all Zoe could manage to say in return.

She wanted to tell him he was a drop dead gorgeous hunk of man but that would not do. Plus she was relieved her exit from the elevator to meet C J had gone much smoother than this afternoon in his office. He seemed to not only unnerve her but also make her practically fall into his arms. This idea brought a smile to Zoe’s face. Seeing this, C J extended his arm and guided her to the exit and his waiting car.

ℓ

The Petroleum Club was the epitome of old-moneyed elegance. Nothing was overstated and gaudy, but walking into the foyer made you feel like you had entered the realm of royalty. After all, oil was money, and there was plenty of it in Houston, especially tonight. The staircase, white marble with sculpted metal balustrades, led up from the marble floored entry and split into two branches then curved elegantly toward the second floor. An art deco statue sparkled as the light from an enormous Murano glass chandelier reflected onto it. Zoe caught the faint sounds of conversation and a woman’s laugh intermingled with musicians playing softly, when she noticed a gentleman in formal attire approach them from an alcove.

C J nodded to the gentleman who acknowledged their presence with, “Welcome Mr. Fairchild, and who is your guest this evening?”

“Mr. James, this is Ms. Zoe Alden of the
Business Journal
from New York. She’s in town visiting the petroleum symposium and voicing her opinion on the oil industry of this generation.”

“We’re pleased to welcome you this evening and hope your stay in Houston will be pleasant,” Mr. James said. “The party is in the Green Room upstairs.”

Heading up the right branch of the stairway, Zoe couldn’t help but think this establishment was the rival of any old money gathering place in New York.

As if reading her thoughts, C J said, “The old ways and formalities still hold in this establishment. Many partnerships and fortunes were cemented when this was a men’s-only club and cigar smoke filled the rooms.”

“You sound a bit nostalgic about that,” Zoe said.

“No, I just like to be reminded now and then of the men who were the real pioneers in this industry. They did not start out as elegantly as they finished and many of them stayed a bit rough around the edges. I admire honesty and hard work, that’s all,” C J said as they entered the party.

Glances became heads turned as they entered the room. It seems we make a very striking and unexpected couple, Zoe immediately thought. She started to scan the room for any familiar faces, a habit that came with the job, but no one she was dying to talk to or wished to avoid was in the room. C J pushed through the crowd with Zoe still on his arm until they stopped in front of an attractive older man.

“Zoe, meet my uncle, Burt Marshall, the CEO of Marshall Petroleum and, to his left, Bob Parks of Exxon and Hughes Crosby of BP Petroleum.”

This was like being presented to royalty at Buckingham Palace, Zoe thought. C J was certainly right about meeting the movers and shakers of the industry this evening. “Zoe Alden of the
Business Journal
,” she said, introducing herself before C J had a chance.

C J’s hand slid from her arm to her back and it was all Zoe could do not to relax into the feel of his hand. It felt natural to her and not like a gesture of possessiveness. Collecting herself, she thanked Burt Marshall for allowing her to visit Marshall Petroleum, conduct the interview and gather research on the fracking industry.

Burt smiled and said, “The thanks goes to C J. He is our engineering face to the world, and I know he was pleased to share our story with you and your upcoming readers.”

“I am still not sold on the industry’s move to fracking but your company’s diligence and environmental research efforts are impressive, Mr. Marshall,” Zoe stated, not wanting to sound like a pushover.

The other executives in the circle started to pepper her with questions on her viewpoint, and then the discussion took off as each man adamantly expressed his thoughts on the industry, where it was headed and why it was an important mainstay in the nation. Zoe, thrilled to have access to the top executives in the industry, was only hoping she could remember enough of the conversation to keep it straight later when she made her notes.

As the party progressed, C J left Zoe’s side to talk to people he knew, but she always felt he knew where she was and to whom she was talking. More than once, Zoe spotted women in the room working hard to attract C J’s undivided attention. He was always pleasant but managed to keep moving and work through the room, not missing anyone he knew and wanted to speak with. Zoe was impressed with his ability to make no person feel the least bit slighted.

Shortly after eight, Zoe felt C J standing beside her and then he said, “How about exiting and getting that dinner I promised you. This is what I call hard work and I’m famished.”

Zoe nodded her assent and they headed for the room’s exit. It took them fifteen minutes to make it twenty feet out of the room. Twins named Cynthia and Olivia had made a point to stop C J and remind him they were hosting a party at the polo match this Sunday in Memorial Park. Holy shit, this man’s stamina must be legendary, Zoe thought.

“I knew getting out of that room would take time but that was ridiculous,” C J said as they walked down the stairs to the front door.

Mr. James called for C J’s car, and as they waited for it Zoe could not help but think that she had received many glares from the females in the room wondering who she was and how she had arrived in the company of C J Fairchild. Driving out of downtown, Zoe was amazed to see stars through the car’s moon roof. Seeing her gaze, C J hit a button and the glass slid back, letting surprisingly cool air slip in the car while giving Zoe an unimpeded view of the sky. She had initially been surprised at C J’s car choice, even if it was a sporty Cadillac.

“Do you drive a Cadillac because it’s an American made car? I pictured you in a sportier European model.” Zoe said as they pulled onto a street lined with huge trees that blocked the sky.

Zoe tilted her head back and rolled her eyes. What is it about this man that makes me think and say such stupid things? I’m a professional focused on exposing the errors of big oil, not a tabloid writer getting the scoop on the lifestyles of rich oilmen in Houston.

C J smiled and answered, “Not exactly. The dealership owner is a family friend, and the company gets exceptionally good prices. My personal ride might surprise you, Zoe.”

Before she could ask what it might be, they pulled into a parking lot and Zoe read the sign on the restaurant, “Matt’s.” Zoe could not see a parking space, but C J just pulled up to the front door and tossed the keys to the valet.

“Good evening, Mr. Fairchild,” the valet said, catching the keys.

“How are things tonight, Phil, busy?” C J asked.

“Extremely, Mr. Fairchild, but your reservation is always good,” Phil said as he shut the car door and pulled out of the way of the next car in line.

C J gently placed his hand on the small of Zoe’s back, just like before, and started walking to the restaurant entrance. No big surprise the hostess, a gorgeous redhead C J greeted as Caroline, smiled warmly at him. When she hugged him, that seemed like an overzealous welcome to Zoe.

Glancing Zoe’s direction, C J saw her quizzical look and simply smiled at her, “I own half of the restaurant, so she had better be nice to me, wouldn’t you say?”

Zoe, surveying the room on their way to the table, noted the elegant black marble floors shot through with dark green veining and walls covered in sage green silk. There was not an empty table in the place, but the room did not feel overcrowded. Mahogany tables with their white linens were spaced far enough apart to allow for private conversation amid the backdrop of what sounded like vintage jazz. The waiters moving effortlessly amongst the patrons lent an air of relaxation to the restaurant, which Zoe felt start to ease her tension. Many heads nodded in acknowledgement of C J as they passed, but no one made a gesture to stop their progress across the room. Zoe got the feeling this restaurant was a haven from business discussions—truly a place to unwind.

“The building used to be an old run-down mansion. Matt and his wife, Caroline, have done an awesome job of making the restaurant feel grand but inviting. I was just lucky enough to help with the financing a bit,” C J said.

Their table, a plush upholstered corner banquette, served to further isolate them from the main dining room. It was cozy, and Zoe assumed it was a great date spot for C J. Her dilemma was it gave her no choice but to sit next to him instead of across the table. Zoe had to admit this excited her, but it also set up a more personal feel to the dinner. She was fighting hard to maintain her business composure as it was.

“C J, great to see you tonight. I’m Matt and it’s a pleasure to meet you,” a tall gregarious man said to Zoe, practically appearing out of thin air tableside while simultaneously pouring champagne.

Taken by surprise, Zoe momentarily shifted to the right and her hand landed on C J’s thigh instead of the banquette seat. Trying to act cool and collected, she slowly shifted her body to the left again and placed her hand on the table. Holy crap his thigh is much more muscular than it looks, and I felt it move under my hand. Not that she had spent time picturing his thighs today, but wow that got her attention.

With as much calmness as she could muster, Zoe looked up at Matt and said, “The pleasure is all mine.”

Shit that sounded totally stupid but nothing to do now but just keep on going, Zoe thought. “Your restaurant is gorgeous and by the lack of an empty table I assume the food is wonderful too,” Zoe said.