Lone Star Millionaire (8 page)

“I'm not sure there's anything to say. I feel as if I'm in the middle of a war, but I can't figure out if I'm the enemy or she is.”

The “she” in question was, of course, his daughter, he thought. Right now Anastasia was watching television in the other room. She'd spent the later afternoon and early evening alternating between vaguely pleasant and a complete brat.

“You want a drink?” Sabrina asked as she rose and moved to the wet bar in the corner.

“No, thanks. I tried that last night and all that happened was I woke up feeling lousy.”

“I think I want to double-check your findings,” she said, and poured herself a small glass of brandy. She carried the snifter back to the sofa and took a seat.

They sat in silence for a while. The lamplight made Sabrina's red hair glow like fire. He'd always been a man who preferred blondes, but there was something appealing about her bright coloring. With her face partially in shadow, her eyes looked more smoky gray than blue, but they were still large and fringed with dark lashes. She'd been in her jeans all day, but he hadn't gotten used to seeing the actual shape of her hips and thighs. To be honest, he liked it. Sabrina wasn't model thin. She had curves, like a real woman. Curves a man could cup and stroke and—

Down boy, he ordered himself. He had no business going there. Sabrina was off-limits for a lot of reasons. For one, she
was an employee, and he didn't mess around where he did his business. For another, she deserved his respect. Finally, he wasn't stupid. If he made a pass at Sabrina, she would probably haul off and hit him. Worse, she might want to quit, and right now he couldn't survive without her.

“Who would have thought it would come to this,” he said.

“Meaning you never thought you would be a father?”

The question surprised him. “Maybe. Kids.” He shook his head. “I suppose they were part of my plan, but a vague part, somewhere in the distant future. I never expected to have one thrust upon me like this. Anastasia and I are a real pair. God knows what she needs from me, but it's unlikely I'm going to be able to provide it.”

“I think you're selling yourself short,” Sabrina told him. “So far, you're doing fine.”

“Yeah, right. She told me I should have known about her. I should have made it my business to know, or somehow sensed it.”

“You know that's not true,” Sabrina said gently. “You don't have psychic powers. She's thinking in terms of fairy tales and television. This is real life.”

“Maybe she's right. Maybe I should have known.”

Sabrina leaned forward. “How?”

“If you're going to get logical, we can't have this discussion,” he warned.

“Oh, I see. So you should have had a dream or a vision?”

She had a point. “I understand that Anastasia is reacting from the point of view of a hurt child, but she's not completely off base with her accusations. If I didn't know about her, I should have at least had a clue about Janice. I was intimate with the woman. How could I have let her deceive me that way?”

“You didn't
let
her do anything. She tricked you. She deliberately set out to get pregnant. You couldn't have predicted that.”

She was right. He knew that in his head, but his gut told
him otherwise. In his gut, a voice whispered that there had been clues, but he'd missed them.

“Maybe you'd feel better if you pounded on the wall and called her a name,” she suggested.

“Always practical.”

“Just trying to help.”

“Thanks, but I don't think breaking my hand is going to improve my mood. Besides, Janice isn't the only person I blame for this mess.”

“The other two are your parents, aren't they?”

He nodded. His parents. The two people who were supposed to love him and look out for him. Instead, they'd made decisions for him, had kept the truth from him.

“They had no right,” he said, trying to block the tide of anger swelling inside him. “I know they were reacting to years of dealing with Tracey. I can't remember how many times she ran away, how many times she thought she was pregnant. It was grim for everyone.”

“It's going to take some time to come to terms with this,” Sabrina said.

Cal wasn't sure he ever would. “They never gave me the chance to make a choice.”

“Because they knew what you would do. Maybe you're looking at this all wrong. There is a bright side.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Illuminate me.”

“The big concern for your folks was that once you found out about Janice, you would want to marry her, or at the very least, take responsibility for the child.”

“So?”

“So?” She smiled. “Cal, what does that say about the kind of person you are? They knew you would do the right thing. Even then, they knew you were a good man whom they couldn't manipulate. That speaks highly of your character. That should make you happy.”

He didn't think he could use that word to describe his state of mind right now, but he understood her point. “You know the real tragedy in this?” he asked. “My mother won't want anything to do with her. Anastasia is her only grandchild. But my mother will never forget who Janice wasn't, in terms of money and social standing. So she won't bother. I can forgive a lot, but I know I'll never forgive her that.”

“That's good,” Sabrina said. “You seem to have all the characteristics of a great father in the making. Maybe we should get a couple of books on parenting to bring you up to speed. After all, your daughter is practically a teenager.”

He groaned. “I don't want to think about that.”

“It's going to happen whether you want it to or not. It won't be so bad. At least funding her college tuition isn't going to be a hardship.”

As consolations went, it wasn't much of one. What Sabrina didn't understand and what he couldn't find it in himself to explain was that he was terrified. How was he supposed to father this soon-to-be young woman who had entered his life? He'd never been very good at relationships of any kind, let alone important ones. He had a few friends from his school days that he was still in touch with, but only on a casual basis. He'd been involved with women, but never for very long. Hell, if the truth be told, Sabrina was not only his most reliable friend, but his most successful relationship, and they got along because they'd never tried to make it personal. He didn't know how to love someone, and he knew instinctively that's what his daughter needed most.

“College,” he said. “That's so far off. It's late May and I'm worried about getting through the summer. School doesn't start until August. What are we going to do until then?”

“We'll figure something out,” she promised.

He knew she was right. Somehow they would struggle
through this. “So I should probably put some money in a mutual fund for her,” he said. “For her education.”

“Not a bad idea.”

He looked at her. “Did you get your college loans paid off? I know you had a scholarship and a grant, but didn't you owe money?”

She laughed. “Oh, Cal, I took care of that years ago. I believe it was my bonus the second year that paid off those debts. And before you ask, I've already taken care of my siblings' college and Gram. There's plenty of money.”

He nodded. He was glad she was okay. Now she could put something aside for herself. Knowing Sabrina, she already had. “So you're saying you don't have to work for a living?”

“I do have to work, but not very hard.”

He'd been teasing when he'd asked his question and she'd responded in kind. But instead of chuckling with her, he was struck with an unwelcome thought. That she didn't need him anymore.

Her job was interesting, he knew that. She enjoyed the travel, the different people she met, but she didn't
have
to work for him. Not like at the beginning, when her family had depended on her.

So why did she stay?

The question startled him, and he didn't want to think of an answer. What if there wasn't one? What if he couldn't come up with a good reason for Sabrina to stay? How long would it be before she figured out she would be better off somewhere else?

 

As he had the night before, he wandered the halls. It was after midnight and he couldn't sleep. This time Cal couldn't blame the alcohol, mostly because he hadn't had any to drink. Worries, concerns, what if's, all conspired to keep him awake.

He walked toward the two guest rooms. Both doors were
closed. He paused outside of Sabrina's but didn't open it. He wondered if she was awake and what she wore to bed. A sensible pair of pajamas, or maybe an oversize cotton T-shirt? Or did she wear something sexy and soft, keeping that side of her nature private?

Error, he thought as his mental questions formed images that had his blood heading south. That was inappropriate and dangerous. So he left his assistant's door and moved to his daughter's.

Here he did turn the knob and peek inside. As she had the night before, Anastasia lay on her side facing him. She clutched the teddy bear close to her chest, hugging it as if she would never let go. By day the toy was tossed casually in a corner as if she didn't want anyone to know how much it mattered, but at night it was her talisman against the scary place that was her world.

He ached for her. In his heart he felt a distinct thaw of emotions, and he sent up a prayer that God would help him to figure out how on earth he was going to be anything close to a decent father.

His gaze settled on her, on her pretty features, her thin shape under the covers. She appeared more vulnerable in the dead of night, more at risk, and he wanted to protect her. The problem was, he didn't have a clue as to how.

W
hen Cal walked into the kitchen he noticed two things. One was the smell of coffee, the other was the sight of Sabrina standing with her back to him. The coffee would get his blood flowing, something he needed after a second restless night. And Sabrina, well, she was part of his world and he liked that she was there when he woke up.

She turned toward him and held out a steaming mug. “'Morning, boss,” she said.

She was fresh from the shower. Her hair was still a little damp, her face scrubbed clean. She didn't wear a lot of makeup, but he rarely saw her without any. Her skin was faintly freckled, her lashes a little on the pale side. She looked wholesome, he decided. Like a young woman selling dairy products in a television commercial.

He let his gaze linger over the blue T-shirt she'd worn over white shorts. Her feet were bare, and he was surprised to see that she painted her toenails a soft peach. Interesting.

He sipped the coffee and moved to the table. His daughter was already sitting there. She looked at him, dark eyes staring, measuring. He braced himself for the opening salvo. Anastasia didn't let him down.

“What are you going to do with me?” she asked abruptly. “You can't take me shopping every day. School's out, so you won't be able to dump me there, at least not for a while. Plus you have a job, right? I mean you have to do something, you're not just rich.”

Cal didn't know how to answer the question of what to do with her, nor did he feel he had to justify his existence or his employment. Still, her comments were valid. What
was
he going to do with her? Unfortunately, he hadn't had enough coffee to get his brain going.

Sabrina crossed to the table and put her hand on the girl's shoulder. “That's not a very pleasant way for anyone to start their day, is it? What about saying ‘good morning,' or even just ‘hi'?”

Anastasia blushed and ducked her head. “Hi,” she mumbled, then shoved a big spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

“Good morning,” he said, and took the seat opposite her. “Did you sleep well?”

She nodded.

A pleasant almost-conversation. It wasn't much, but it was progress. He glanced at Sabrina. She grinned. He returned the smile and something flashed between them.

Cal was so startled that, had he been drinking, his coffee would have gone down the wrong way. He couldn't define the flash, but in its aftereffect, he found himself wanting to walk around the table, pull her close and kiss her.

The thought was more unexpected than unpleasant. Kiss Sabrina? Where had that come from? It's not that she wasn't attractive, in her own way, she just wasn't his type. In his mind, she'd always been more office equipment than actual female.

Strange, he thought. Maybe it was the change in circumstances, or the shorts. He eyed her long legs. They were shapely enough. If she were a different kind of woman or he was a different kind of man, he would enjoy imagining them wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as he—

Enough, he ordered himself. This was too dangerous. He needed Sabrina, and he wasn't about to risk messing everything up now. Not when he had a new daughter to worry about. Sabrina was his lifeline with Anastasia.

He smiled slightly as he took another drink of coffee. If the truth were told, even if he wanted to start something, he wouldn't have a chance with Sabrina. She knew him too well, knew his patterns with women. If she thought he was the least bit interested, she would run screaming in the opposite direction. She often told him he was a complete cad—even though she agreed he didn't do it on purpose.

“How about a bagel,” Sabrina said, moving back to the counter.

“Sounds great.”

She sliced one and popped it into the toaster, then carried over a bowl of fresh fruit.

She moved around his kitchen with a familiarity he lacked, even though it was his place, not hers. He didn't do much cooking, preferring to eat out with friends, or Sabrina, if he didn't have a date. She was, he realized with some small shock, his best friend. When had that happened?

Before he could find an answer or even decide how he felt about the revelation, Sabrina handed him a plate with his bagel and a container of cream cheese. She took the seat next to his and served herself a bowl of fruit.

“Anastasia has a point,” she said. “We are going to have to find some things for her to do. I suspect it's too late for summer camp, but I can check.”

Anastasia rolled her eyes. “Camp? I'm not a kid.”

“You're twelve,” Sabrina pointed out. “You're not an adult yet, therefore, by definition, you
are
still a kid. Some camps are fun.”

“How would you know? Have you ever been to one?”

“Nope. I grew up poor.” Sabrina made the statement cheerfully. “But then I had a brother and two sisters to keep me company, not to mention a warm and friendly personality that allowed me to have lots of friends.”

Anastasia opened her mouth, then clamped it shut.

A second bagel popped out of the toaster. Sabrina retrieved it and continued her conversation. “But we are going to have to come up with some kind of a plan. Not just for the summer, but also for the fall. Where is she going to school?”

Cal finished with the cream cheese and passed it to her. “Isn't there one close by? She'll be in middle school, right?” He looked at his daughter. “Sixth grade.”

“Yes.”

“Middle school is a possibility,” Sabrina said slowly. “But there's an excellent all-girls' school not too far from here. I've heard wonderful things about it. They do a great job with manners and social skills, as well as academic subjects.”

Anastasia's face paled as her eyes widened with horror. “A girls' school?” She turned to him. “You wouldn't do that to me, would you?”

He caught Sabrina's wink and had to smother a smile. “I haven't made a decision yet. Let's see how the next few weeks go.”

Anastasia looked as if she was going to protest, but she seemed to decide it wasn't the right time. She nodded once, then pushed back her chair. “May I please be excused?” she asked tightly.

Cal waved her off. “Of course.”

She nearly ran from the room.

Sabrina took a bite of her bagel and chewed. Her expression was completely smug.

“You did that on purpose,” he accused.

She shrugged. “She has good manners and can be pleasant when she wants to be. But most of the time, she's a little witch. I understand that adjusting is going to take time, but I don't want her thinking she has the upper hand. One of my sisters went through a stage like this. It was hideous. Gram kept saying all she needed was firm rules, consistent discipline and plenty of love. I'm hoping it will work with Anastasia as well as it did with Melissa.”

Cal understood about firm rules and being consistent, but he wasn't sure about the love part. Growing up, he always felt his parents were only interested in him for bragging rights. As long as he did what they expected and didn't embarrass them in front of their friends, they were content to leave him and his sister in the care of the ever-changing staff. Tracey had fought against the neglect by rebelling. He'd made his own life, one that didn't include family. He'd made it a point to never care too much about anyone, and that philosophy had eventually become second nature. He wasn't sure he could go back and learn to love, even if he wanted to.

Sabrina finished her bagel and took the plate to the sink. “Let me get my notes,” she said. “There are a few pressing issues.” She grinned. “Some of them are even about work.”

While she collected her papers and her computer, he poured them each more coffee and settled back in his chair.

“Ada says they hit oil, just like you expected,” Sabrina said, handing him a lengthy fax.

Over the next half hour, they got through the faxes and notes. Cal put down the last paper. “How are the interviews going to replace old octopus hands?”

She consulted a file in her laptop. “According to the memo Ada sent me, it's down to three people, all women, all highly
qualified. Someone will be in place by the middle of next week.”

“Good.”

Sabrina hit a couple of keys. “All right, now that the easy stuff is taken care of…”

Her voice trailed off and he groaned. “I know. Anastasia. I know she wasn't polite about it, but you and she did have a point this morning. We are going to have to do something with her. It's only late May. From what I remember, school doesn't start until mid-August. As she said, we can't spend every day at the mall.”

“If I were an incredibly cruel person, I would tell you this is not part of my job description and that you're on your own with this one,” Sabrina teased. “But I'm not.”

He ignored her threat, mostly because he knew it was meaningless. Sabrina would never leave him in a lurch.

“What about summer camps?” he asked. “
Is
it too late?”

“It is for the one at Rice University. It's been full for months.” Sabrina rested her elbow on the table and her chin on her hand. “The problem is, neither of us knows anyone with kids her age. Well, that's not completely true. Ada has a couple of nieces about her age, but we can't impose on her too much. Anastasia likes to read and there are always movies, but that's a solitary way for someone to spend the summer. I'd like to see her get out and make some friends. Then she wouldn't feel so alone.”

“It might improve her disposition, too,” he grumbled. He consoled himself with the fact that it was going to get better, and at least her comebacks showed that she was a fast thinker and incredibly bright.

“I could check the local parks program,” Sabrina said, typing on her keyboard. “Maybe there's an art school or something.”

She focused on the computer. Cal watched as her gaze narrowed. She sat cross-legged in the kitchen chair, which she
rarely did at the office. Her hair had dried and fluffed up some, with a couple of wisps brushing against her cheek.

He raised his hand toward her face, as if to tuck the curls behind her ear, then pulled back. The gesture was too personal, which was odd, because he'd hugged her before and hadn't thought twice about it.

She wrinkled her nose. “Swimming, maybe? Lessons if she doesn't know how. It's too hot for tennis. Some kind of club.” She pressed more keys.

How long had she been pretty, he wondered. He remembered when she'd first hired on. He'd thought she was presentable, but nothing even close to his type. At the time, that had been a blessing. The last thing he'd wanted was to be attracted to his personal assistant. But she was pretty now. Had she changed or had he? Was it just the circumstances, their being thrown together in a way that hadn't happened before?

Pretty was all right, he told himself. She could be pretty, and he could even think about wanting her. Sex was completely safe. It was the liking that got him into trouble, and that was part of the problem. While he'd just figured out that Sabrina was pretty, he'd always liked her. So what the hell was he going to do about that now?

 

“I think she's darling,” Ada said three days later, then took a sip of her coffee. “So sweet and well mannered. Do you know she actually came into the kitchen and asked if she could help me with dinner last night? You tell Cal he got lucky with that young lady. My nieces are great and I love them, but they have no manners at all.”

They were sitting in Sabrina's office, on the sofa that faced the window. Sabrina set her cup on the glass coffee table and stared at her secretary.

“We
are
talking about the same girl, right? About five six, dark hair and eyes, glasses, Cal's new daughter?”

Ada dismissed her with a wave. “Don't you dare say anything bad about her. She's a charmer. I adore her. She can come and stay with me anytime. I don't care if my nieces are spending the night with me or not. I'd love to take her out and spoil her with shopping and movies.” The older woman smiled. “You just want to hug her.”

Sabrina's phone buzzed. “You around?” Cal asked.

She stood up and crossed to her desk. “Right here. Want me to come up?”

“Please.”

“Be right there.” She released the button. “Sorry, Ada, the boss calls.”

“No problem.” Her secretary started for the door. “Tell Cal what I said. I'm happy to babysit or whatever. Anastasia is a wonderful girl.”

Sabrina was still shaking her head when she walked into Cal's office.

“I'm brilliant,” he said, handing her a file.

She glanced at the tab and raised her eyebrows. “This is about the joint venture. Did you get a meeting finalized?”

He grinned. “For next month, in Hong Kong. If you're very good, I'll let you come and we can go back to your favorite Chinese restaurant.”

“The one we ate at last year when I won our stock bet?” she asked.

He glared at her. “That would be the one, yes. Put it on the calendar.”

“Okay.” She made a note in the file. “I was just talking to Ada about Anastasia's visit.”

Cal leaned back in his chair and loosened his tie. It was late in the afternoon, and he'd long since rolled up his shirt-sleeves to the elbows. Now he opened his collar and tossed his tie onto the desk.

“How bad was she?” he asked.

“According to Ada, your daughter is sweet, well mannered and a charmer.”

Cal stared at her. “This is my daughter we're talking about? Anastasia? The same one who called me a sperm donor?”

“That would be her. Apparently she knows how to be polite, she simply chooses not to be around us.”

“Great. I feel so special.”

Sabrina leaned toward him. “Cal, you know she's testing you. She's still scared about being here and not sure you're going to keep her.”