Evening Hours

“I think we covered everything yesterday,” Drew replied in a slightly irritated tone.

A flush replaced Edgar’s paleness as if he realized he’d goofed. “Sorry. Just wanted to make sure I covered all the basics.”

“I want to see you the minute you get back.”

“You’re the boss.”

“You got that right.”

The color in Edgar’s face deepened, but he didn’t reply. Drew wondered what he was thinking, but it didn’t matter. Edgar could roll with any punch he was dealt, which was to his credit.

Drew looked at his longtime employee, thinking Edgar appeared much older than his fifty-eight years with his thinning dark hair, his slightly stooped shoulders and tobacco-stained teeth from long years of smoking. Even though he no long indulged in those stank sticks, his teeth would never recover.

“How’s our girl?” Drew asked when Edgar still didn’t show any signs of leaving.

“Real good.” Edgar smiled, eliminating the sadness in his eyes, a sadness that was visible even through the thick lenses of his glasses. The same sadness was usually mirrored in Kaylee’s eyes.

“That was a hell of a party the chamber threw for her the other night,” Drew said. “She more than deserved it.”

Edgar’s smile grew. “You bet she did. I appreciate your coming. That meant a lot to her and to me.”

“What made you think I wouldn’t?”

“With your schedule, who knows?”

Drew snorted. “I’m not too busy for my godchild.”

“I’ll never be able to repay you for your kindness to her.”

“Yeah, you will. Just continue to be loyal to me, no matter what.”

Edgar looked disconcerted. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll never let you down.”

“Good. I’ll see you when you get back.”

Edgar nodded, then ambled out the door.

Drew pushed back in his chair and stared out the window of his top-floor complex in southwest Houston. He had purchased this high-rise office complex, which was within spitting distance of the Galleria, right after he made his first million, and the building had since tripled in value. He could’ve sold it and made several more million on that deal alone. But he had no intention of ever dumping this property.

Sitting atop this building and having his office cover the entire top floor made him feel important, made him forget his humble beginnings and the bitter fact that he had grown up with none of life’s amenities, thanks to a mother who whored for a living.

AIDS ended up killing her—her just deserts, he’d told himself without guilt. As for his father, he had no idea who he was, and he didn’t care. He’d been on his own since he was ten years old, and he’d done just fine.

He was a rich man. He could go, do and buy anything he wanted. And he wanted a lot. If someone told him he couldn’t have anything on his “wish list,” he got it somehow.

If the word no had been part of his vocabulary he wouldn’t own a thriving corporation or command the respect he did now. He might not have a pedigree, but he had money, and that went a long way in his society.

A confident chuckle erupted from his lips as a feeling of power surged through him. Yep, he was sitting atop the world, staring down at the poor blokes below.

“You must’ve gotten some good nooky last night.”

Drew grinned as he motioned for his closest business adviser to enter. Glen Yates was a big man, in stature and weight, with a bushy gray mustache that hid his upper lip. If Drew trusted anyone, which he didn’t, it would be Glen. Like Edgar, he was always at his beck and call and eager to please.

But then, he paid his lackeys well. Hence, they were loyal and behaved in a servile manner.

“As a matter of fact, I did,” Drew said at last, shoving his feet off the desk and swinging around in his chair.

Glen’s mustache grew with his grin. “Can’t beat it.”

“You ought to try it sometime.”

“Who says I don’t?”

Drew shrugged, suddenly tired of this inane conversation. He made it a point never to let anyone penetrate his hard shell and glimpse what lurked underneath. To do so would make him vulnerable, make him susceptible to emotions he didn’t want to feel. His motto was screw before getting screwed. He’d lived and prospered by that code for too long now to change.

“What’s on tap for today?” Glen asked, breaking the silence.

“I’ve sent Edgar after the files on the Magnolia Creosote Plant.”

“Ah, so you are going after them?”

“You don’t think that’s a smart move?” Drew didn’t really care what Glen thought; he’d already made up his mind. Yet it was advantageous to know what someone else was thinking. Different opinions often came in handy.

Glen pulled on his mustache. “I didn’t say that, boss. You told me yourself they’re pretty solvent.”

“Not so solvent they can withstand a smear campaign.”

Especially not from him. Gobbling up small, floundering companies was how he’d made his millions. The fact that he’d ruined their good names beforehand didn’t enter into the equation. He chalked that up to sound business practices.

Glen’s face crinkled in a grin. “That company would definitely be a feather in your cap, if you can get it, that is.”

“Do you doubt my ability?” Drew’s tone was hard.

“Absolutely not.”

“When Edgar gets back with the information, I want you two to get together and give me the bottom line particulars. We’ll proceed as usual. I’ll devise the plan, then give you the green light to go forward.”

“I have some info on the paper mill deal.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. I like those who try to make me happy.”

“The family is going at it tooth and nail.”

“Ah, now that is good news,” Drew said, his juices starting to flow as vigorously as they had this morning when he’d humped Jill. “I take it my offer has them divided.”

“Yep. They’re squabbling like hounds over a bone.”

“If they don’t take my dirt-cheap offer,” Drew said, “then I’m going for the jugular by putting the EPA on them for dumping waste. When I plan my exact strategy, I’ll keep their backbiting in mind,” he added, his anticipation growing with each second.