Winning Sara's Heart

Ray shook his head. “Sonny, you’re almost forty. You should be thinking of settling down, thinking about my future.”

He turned to his dad. “Your future?”

“Hell, yes,” he said with a gruff laugh. “You’re my only kid, and I want to be a grandpa before I’m too old to enjoy it.”

E. J. brushed that off quickly. “Don’t even go down that road.”

“You’re quite a catch, Sonny. Even that dang magazine listed you as one of the most eligible men in the state last year.”

“Sure, and so was that singer with the shaved head and a lobster tattoo,” he muttered.

“It was a scorpion,” Ray said.

“Whatever.”

“I’m glad you’re doing this,” his dad said.

He glanced back at Ray. “Doing what?”

“The deal with LynTech, you getting back on track with Ford after the fiasco of the leaks.”

Ray hadn’t given him any feedback when he told him he was thinking of scaling down his holdings or when he’d told him about the mess last week. “Why?”

“If you have less work to do, maybe you’ll have more time to start looking around for someone to have those grandkids with.”

“What part of ‘that’s not going to happen’ don’t you understand?”

Ray frowned. “Never say never, Sonny. You’ve got a few months before you’re forty.”

E. J. laughed at that. “And you’ve got a few months before you’re sixty-five.”

“So?”

He crossed to the dressing room and disappeared inside to get his leather jacket, then came back into the bedroom. “So? Why don’t you get married again? You’re still quite a catch.”

Ray shook his head. “Don’t have no desire to do that. Your mother was the one woman who—”

“Could rope your heart,” E. J. finished for him as he put his wallet in his pocket and crossed back to the bed to get his suitcase. “I know.”

“She sure did,” Ray said.

He’d heard that since he was five and his mother had died. That was it for Ray. There had been women now and then over the years, but as Ray said, “None worth bringing home.” He faced Ray and nodded to the door. “I’m leaving.”

“I’m walking you out.”

The two men went together through the sprawling main house, their boot heels clicking in unison on the terra-cotta floors of the heavily beamed, adobe-walled rooms.

“You want me to come with you?” Ray asked as they crossed the great room, which was done in a southwestern decor and took up the center of the house and cut toward the back of the building.

“No, just take care of things here, and don’t volunteer me for anything else.”

“There was one other thing,” Ray said as they got to the side exit, the one that led across a stone patio to a helicopter pad beyond a breadth of rolling lawn. “But it can wait.”

E. J. didn’t open the door, even though he could hear the throaty vibration of the helicopter ready to take him to Houston. He turned to look at his father. He didn’t remember much about his mother, except her voice when she sang to music, but Ray had been the rock in his life. They’d been in the oil fields together, worked side by side, and when he’d “struck it rich,” Ray had been there. But over the years, he’d learned to never let a casual “one other thing” pass unchallenged.

“Spill it,” E. J. said.

“You gotta go, Sonny. You said you didn’t want to be late for the meeting this morning.”

“Don’t call me Sonny,” he said tightly. “And I’m not going until you tell me everything.”

Ray shrugged. “I sort of told them you might be able to get some of your friends to come to the ball.”

E. J. rolled his eyes and sighed with exasperation. “Dad, for the love of—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ray said quickly. “I can make some calls and ask them to—”

“No,” he said quickly.

“But they’ll expect—”

“No! Just tell me that’s it, that you didn’t offer me for anything else.”

“Just that you’ll participate in a few things.”

This was going from bad to worse. “Like what?”

“An auction they’re going to have.”

“And?”

“That’s it. Everything.”

“Nothing else?”

Ray spread both hands palms-up to his son. “I swear.”

E. J. shook his head. “No more volunteering me for anything. Got it?”

“Got it,” Ray said.

“Okay, I’ll be back in a few days. If anything comes up—” he paused, looking his dad right in the eye “—anything, you call me.”

“Absolutely,” Ray said with a nod, then held out his hand. “Can you leave the key to the SUV? My truck’s acting up and I need to do a few things while you’re gone.”

“Sure, but get the spare key from the drawer in my dressing room. I can’t find the original anywhere.”

“Okay. Have a good trip, Sonny,” Ray said.