Lone Star Millionaire (2 page)

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.”

“I know, but Venice sounds so fun. All that water, those boats. Venetian glass.”

She was already up twenty percent. It was his own fault. When they'd started their game, she'd insisted on a handicap. He wasn't allowed to invest in oil or gas stocks, the one area he was guaranteed a win. She, on the other hand, invested heavily in his own company. Last year that had been enough to push her over the top.

“I know a great Italian restaurant in New York.”

The phone rang. She reached for it and grinned. “Don't even think about weaseling out of it,” she said before picking up the receiver. “Mr. Langtry's office. This is Sabrina.”

Cal didn't pay attention to the call. It hadn't come in on his private line, and Sabrina took care of most of his other business.

After a couple of minutes, she put the line on hold. “You'd better take this one,” she said.

“Next year the rules are changing. Either I can invest in my industry or you can't, either.” He put down the paper he'd been reading and glanced at her. “Otherwise— Sabrina, what's wrong?”

She'd gone pale. She didn't have much color in her face, anyway, but the little that was there had drained away, leaving her ashen.

“Is it Tracey?” he asked, knowing his older sister was usually responsible for any trauma in his life.

“No. It's your lawyer.” She motioned to the phone. “You'd better talk to him.”

Before he could ask her anything else, she rose and crossed the room, then let herself out. Cal frowned. He couldn't think of a single thing he and his lawyer had to discuss that would require privacy. Sabrina knew almost all of his secrets. It was part of her job.

“Jack,” he said, when he'd picked up the receiver and released the hold button. “What's going on?”

“Are you sitting down, Cal?”

He didn't like the sound of that. “Get to the point, Jack. Whatever you said chased Sabrina from the room, and she's pretty unflappable.”

“Okay. Do you remember a woman named Janice Thomas? You had a relationship with her back in college.”

Cal frowned as the memory fell into place. “That was about twelve or thirteen years ago. Between college and grad school. We went out for a summer. What does that have to do with anything?”

“It seems she had a baby. A daughter. From what I've found out, when she discovered she was pregnant, she approached your parents. She wasn't interested in marriage as much as money. They agreed on a very tidy sum with the understanding that you would never know about the child. Unfortunately, Janice died in childbirth. The baby was given up for adoption. Her adoptive parents were killed in a car accident nearly a year ago. She's been living with an aunt in Ohio, an older lady who no longer wants responsibility for the girl. That's why I'm calling. I thought you'd want to
know. If you don't take the girl, the aunt is going to make her a ward of the court.”

Cal knew intellectually there weren't any fault lines in Houston, so the sudden tilting he felt couldn't be an earthquake. But that's how it seemed. As if his whole world had just been jolted from its axis.

“Cal, are you still there?” his attorney asked. “Did you hear me? You've got a twelve-year-old daughter.”

A daughter? From Janice? The enormity of the information stunned him. Nothing made sense. A child? Him? No wonder Sabrina had left the room.

“I heard you, Jack.” He'd heard, although he didn't have a damn clue as to what he was going to do now.

“I
don't know what to say,” Cal told his attorney. He turned in his chair so he was facing the window, but he didn't even see the view. Instead, images of Janice filled his mind. He remembered her as being of average height and pretty. They'd met while interning for the same oil-and-gas firm one summer. “Are you sure about this? Why didn't she tell me she was pregnant?”

“Like I said, she was after money, not matrimony. I guess she knew about the trouble your parents had with Tracey and figured they would be willing to pay her off. One of the retired partners here at the firm prepared the paperwork, Cal. I've seen it. In fact, telling you this raises some issues regarding attorney-client privileges within the firm. But this is important enough that I'm willing to deal with any backlash. Janice was offered a sizable amount to keep quiet and stay away from you. If she hadn't died unexpectedly, she wouldn't have had to work again for life.”

Nothing made sense. Cal tried to pick a rooftop outside and focus on it, but the task was too difficult. Janice had gotten pregnant? She'd gone to his parents instead of him? She hadn't wanted to get married, she'd just wanted the money?

“I don't want to believe any of this,” he said, too stunned to be angry. “I tried to get in touch with her when I went back to college. She just disappeared. I thought she'd run off with someone else.”

A child. He couldn't imagine that being real. That one of those long summer nights had resulted in a new life.

Jack cleared his throat. “Look, Cal, I'm your lawyer, not your conscience. You say the word and I'll pretend this conversation never happened. You don't know this kid from a rock and that doesn't have to change. Let the aunt turn her over to the state. It's probably better that way. The reports I have say she's been having problems. Poor adjustment in her new school, falling grades, antisocial behavior. Do you really want that kind of mess right now? Face it, your life is pretty damned good. Why change that?”

Cal knew Jack was just trying to do his job—which was to make his most wealthy client's life easier, however possible. Cal supposed there were many men who would simply walk away from this kind of information—he had a feeling he was going to wish he had. But he couldn't.

“If she lost her parents less than a year ago, I'm not surprised she's having trouble adjusting,” Cal said. “Everything's been taken away from her. She's living with an aunt who doesn't want her. She probably knows she's going to get thrown out any minute. These circumstances wouldn't make anyone look like a poster child for mental health.”

“You're right, of course,” Jack said. “I'm not the enemy here, I'm simply pointing out different options.”

“I know. I'm sorry,” Cal said. “This is impossible for me to believe. I can't help thinking I would have known if Janice
was pregnant, but that, as Sabrina would gladly tell me, is male arrogance at its worst.”

“I understand. You're going to need some time to think about this. The aunt will keep her about two more weeks, so no decisions have to made today. There are a lot of different ways to play this one. I suspect with a little financial encouragement, the aunt might be willing to keep her longer. If you want, I can look into boarding schools. Or, as I already mentioned, she can go into foster care. You don't have to do anything if you don't want to.”

Cal felt as if he'd been blindsided by a tanker. He heard his attorney's words and knew he had plenty to think about, but one thing was certain. “I'm not going to let her go to the state. If there's proof she's my daughter, then she's my responsibility.”

“Oh, there's proof. Your parents had her checked when she was born. She's yours.”

That was all Cal had to know. He'd done a lot of things in his life that he wasn't especially proud of, but he'd never walked away from his responsibilities. “I have a few things to take care of. Sabrina or I will be in touch in the next day or so with the particulars. In the meantime, call the aunt back and tell her I'll be out to pick up my daughter before the end of the week.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

No, he wasn't sure he wanted to. He only knew he
had
to. “If she's mine, Jack, I don't have a choice.”

His lawyer sighed. “I figured as much. I'll let her know.”

“I'm going to New York to talk to my mother. If you have to get in touch with me, the office will know where I am.”

“Will do.”

Cal was about to hang up the phone when he heard Jack call his name. “What?” he asked.

“Don't you want to know her name?”

The question shocked him. Giving the child a name made her more real—an actual person with an identity. “Yes.”

“Anastasia Overton.”

“Anastasia? What the hell kind of name is that for a twelve-year-old kid?” He shrugged. “I know you can't answer that one, either. Okay, Jack, I'll talk to you later.” He hung up the phone.

Silence filled the room. Cal leaned back in his chair and swore. He pushed to his feet and stalked to the window. “What the hell is going on? How did this happen?”

He didn't even know what he was asking. Did he mean how had Janice gotten pregnant? That would be pretty easy to answer. Maybe he meant how had the pregnancy been kept from him? Or maybe how had his parents thought they could get away with keeping news of his own child from him?

But they had, a small voice whispered inside his head. For twelve years his mother had sat in silence. She'd sacrificed her own grandchild for the greater good. At least that's what she would tell him. He could already hear her voice.

The quiet got to him, and without thinking he turned back to his desk and hit a button beside his telephone. Less than thirty seconds later Sabrina stepped into the room.

Her usually animated face was strangely solemn. He half expected a crack, then realized that was never her style. She liked to banter and fight with him, but only on even terms. She would never attack him when he was vulnerable.

“How much did Jack tell you?” he asked.

Sabrina walked to one of the leather sofas and gracefully sank onto a cushion. He walked toward her and took a seat at the far end of the same sofa. He wanted to be close, but he found he couldn't face her. Odd, because Sabrina knew the worst there was to know about him. Knew it and didn't judge him. That was one of the reasons he kept her around.

“He said that you'd been involved with a young woman about thirteen years ago and she'd gotten pregnant, apparently on purpose. When you went off to grad school, she ap
proached your parents, promising to stay out of your life if they paid her enough. They agreed. When the woman died in childbirth, the child was put up for adoption. She's now living in Ohio with an elderly aunt.”

He faced front and braced his elbows on his knees, then clasped his hands together. “That about sums it up. Her name was Janice—the woman, not the kid.” He glanced at her. “This is one of the bigger messes you've had to help me clean up. I guess you're going to be expecting a substantial raise this year.”

She gave him a slight smile. “This isn't a mess. I would never think that. You didn't know about this. Jack told me he'd only found out about it a couple of days ago.”

“You believe him?” He asked the question casually but suddenly found that her opinion mattered.

“Of course.” She angled toward him. “Cal, you're nothing like your sister. Tracey is spoiled and willful. If this were her problem, she would have let the child go without giving him or her a second thought. You're not like that. If you'd known about your daughter from the beginning, you would have done the right thing, whether that meant marrying Janice or just providing for your child.”

Her expression was earnest, her words sincere. He appreciated that. Jack had claimed not to be Cal's conscience, and Cal agreed. But there were times he wondered if that was actually part of Sabrina's job. Knowing that he was going to have to look her in the eye often influenced his behavior, and for the better.

“You're right. So thirteen years after the fact, I'm going to do the right thing. But first I'm going to New York to talk to my mother.”

Sabrina raised her eyebrows. “I'm surprised.”

“That I'm going to take my daughter or that I'm going to visit my mother.”

“Both, although I'm more surprised about your mother. I don't remember you ever going to see her.”

Cal grimaced. “We're not what you would call a close family. I think I've seen her twice since my father died, and that was nearly ten years ago. She wasn't the maternal type. Mother is very big on how things look rather than how they are. This situation proves that.”

“Have you thought this through?” Sabrina asked.

He knew she wasn't asking about the visit. There was no reason to consider that. He needed information and his mother was the best source. After all, she and his father had been the ones to make the decision for him.

The shock was starting to fade, and he felt the first flicker of emotion since receiving Jack's phone call. It wasn't paternal pride at finding out he had offspring, or even curiosity at what his daughter would be like. Instead, what he felt was rage. Cold, dark rage. He told himself his parents had never considered his opinions or feelings before and he shouldn't be surprised they hadn't where Janice was concerned. Based on his thirty-four years as their son, nothing about their actions should shock him. Yet he was appalled at their complete disregard for his rights as a father and their callous disposal of their grandchild. As he had often thought in the past, he would have been better off being raised by wolves than Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson Langtry.

Sabrina leaned toward him. “We're talking about a growing child. She's nearly a teenager. Have you thought about what this is going to do to you and your life? If you really mean to take care of her, everything will have to change.”

He stood up and paced in front of the sofa. “No, I haven't thought it through. I haven't had time. Right now I can barely grasp the concept of having a child. I haven't had a chance to internalize the information. But that doesn't matter. The girl exists and she's my responsibility. I'm not going to let her become a ward of the state. She didn't ask for her circum
stances. She's a kid, and as far as she knows, no one in the world wants her. I might not be anyone's idea of a perfect father, but I'm not going to turn my back on her.”

Sabrina smiled at him. “Every now and then you do something that reminds me why I like working for you.”

“So it's not just about the money?”

“Not today.”

He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “The good news is, once Tiffany finds out about my daughter, I won't have to worry about breaking up with her. She'll run so hard and fast, she'll leave skid marks.”

“You don't know that. Maybe she would revel in the chance to show what she's made of.”

Cal stopped pacing and stared down at Sabrina. Her blue gaze was steady. “I do know that,” he told her. “I went out with her for nearly two months. While I don't know everything about her, I'm quite aware of her character. Besides, she's too young to be responsible for a twelve-year-old.”

“But not too young to be dating that twelve-year-old's father?”

She asked the question with a straight face, but he saw the hint of a smile teasing at the corner of her mouth.

“You never give me a break,” he complained.

“It's not in my job description. Besides, there are enough people thrilled to do that every chance they get.”

“So you want to spend your time taking me down a notch or two?”

“No. It's not that personal. However, my job description
does
include telling you the truth, even when you don't want to hear it.”

“It's your favorite part of the job,” he grumbled.

“Sometimes.” This time she did smile. “And I think there's a chance you could be wrong about Tiffany. She's not bright, but that doesn't mean she's heartless. She might surprise you.”

Cal didn't want to be surprised. Even if Sabrina was right, it didn't matter. He wouldn't want someone like Tiffany near his daughter. Which was a pretty sad state of affairs, he told himself. He was willing to date and sleep with Tiffany, but he wouldn't want her hanging around his kid. So what had he seen in her in the first place?

He thought about her perfect twenty-year-old body and got a little of the answer, although he didn't like it. When had he gotten so damn shallow? Was this what he wanted
Prominence Magazine
to tell the world? Thank God he had Sabrina. He knew he could count on her. He also trusted her.

Sabrina glanced at her watch. “You could still catch a flight to New York this evening. You'll get in late, but that would allow you to see your mother tomorrow. I'm assuming you want this over as quickly as possible.”

He nodded. “I want to get Anastasia in the next couple of days. She's living with an aunt, and the woman has made it clear to everyone that she's not interested in keeping the girl. That's a hell of a thing for a twelve-year-old to know.”

Sabrina stood up and started toward his desk. “Let me see what I can do about getting you a seat. One night in New York, or two?”

“Make it two. I don't know how long I'll be with my mother, but I doubt we'll have a big family reunion. I already know our conversation is going to make me angry, and I'll need some time to get over it before going to Ohio. Oh, and book two seats, Sabrina. I want you to come with me.”

His personal assistant looked at him. Wide blue eyes darkened slightly. “You want me to come with you while you talk to your mother?”

“Let's just say I haven't lost my temper with her yet, but I've come close. If anything was going to push me over the edge, this would be it.”