Texas Christmas

Then, just as naturally as they’d come together, they slowly released each other, staying forehead to forehead while the magic lingered.

“That was nice,” he whispered. “You taste good, like that truffle you shared with me on the plane.” He reached out and ran the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip.

He gave her one more wistful kiss, this one featherlight, before saying, “I’ll walk you to the door.”

Caught in the twilight between longing and lucidity, she couldn’t find her tongue, but she was able to force her legs to carry her out of the truck and around to the back of the vehicle where he helped her with her luggage.

When they were standing at the door she could still taste him on her swollen lips.

“You have my card. If you ever need rescuing, you know where to find me.”

Chapter Three

Two days later, Robert sat in his home office and sorted through a stack of mail. He deposited five invitations to parties he would normally have no intention of attending into a pile. But the thought of running into Pepper Merriweather made him rethink his standard no.

“Shall I RSVP yes to these for you?” asked his sister Kate. She’d been working for him since she’d graduated from the University of Texas with an MBA eighteen months ago.

And then he came to his senses. The last thing he needed was to go out searching for his Cinderella. Hadn’t his divorce taught him that?

Rob answered Kate with a barely audible harrumph, which Kate seemed to intuitively understand. “Come on, Rob, I’ll watch Cody for you. You need to get out.”

He shot her his best leveling stare. “I have too much work to do this week to waste my time at parties thrown by people I don’t even know.”

Pepper might be there.

All the better reason not to go.

She shook her head. “If you went to these parties, you’d have the opportunity to meet them. Come on, you need a break. Get out and have some fun. Besides, the only reason anyone goes to these things is to work the circuit. There’s a lot of money at these shindigs. You’re missing out on opportunities for the Foundation.”

She was right. But to him, working the shindig circuit, as Kate called it, ranked up there with shopping or an evening at the ballet. Simply put, he could think of a hundred other things he’d rather do—such as change the oil in his truck or wash Gabe, his Lab-like, Heinz 57 mixed breed. Or, most important, staying in with Cody, his five-year-old son and eating popcorn and watching Spider-Man—again.

“I pay you to schmooze for the Foundation. If you think these parties are such a missed opportunity, why don’t you go in my place?” He turned away from the neat stacks of mail he’d created for Kate so she’d know what to do with them.

Next he began opening the emails that had come in since he’d taken a break to eat lunch with Cody, who had come home from kindergarten early today claiming he didn’t feel well. He’d perked up once he saw his dad. Rob wondered if he should schedule a conference with his teacher. Being the only kid in his class who was in a wheelchair made things difficult. Kids could be so heartless. Downright mean. He didn’t want Cody falling into the trap of having his old man fight his battles for him. But he was only in kindergarten.

Sometimes he sucked at being a single parent. But there was no questioning how much he loved his son.

“The only reason they invite me is because they want to hit me up for whatever cause they’ve deemed worthy this week.”

It was true. And Rob did give back generously to the community through the Macintyre Family Foundation, where the recipients of charitable gifts were hand selected and well researched to make sure they fell within the guidelines of the MFF mission statement: Family, Community and Education. He had a real problem with these so-called nonprofits that spent a boatload of money to throw parties in the name of charity.

The truth was even though his corporation, Macintyre Enterprises, was worth more than a cool billion, the assets weren’t liquid. Rob’s money was tied up in oil rigs and other ventures that looked impressive on a balance sheet, but didn’t allow for a whole lot of impulsive financial movement.

Hell, if he had the liquidity, there would be no need for his Foundation to beg for money for the most recent cause they’d taken on: partnering with Celebration Memorial Hospital to raise five million dollars to build a state-of-the-art pediatric wing onto the hospital. When Cody had been in the accident two years ago, he had to be airlifted to a hospital miles away for treatment. The boy was lucky to be alive. But that was one of the dark memories that Rob had sealed off, and he blinked it away to ensure it wouldn’t escape.

Kate crossed her arms and gave an impatient huff. “These invitations are addressed to you, Rob, not me. I’m pretty sure they’re nontransferable.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he grunted absently, opening and skimming an email about a project update that he’d been waiting for.

Even if Cody’s wheelchair was a stark reminder of past mistakes, at least his boy was alive. That was all that mattered. More pressing was the fact that Cody would need at least one operation soon if there was ever going to be a chance that he’d walk again. Sadly, even with the Macintyre Family Foundation’s personal commitment to raising the money to build the pediatric surgical wing, the facility wouldn’t be ready for a while.

If he had the damn money in hand, he’d pay for the wing himself so it could be built now, and he wouldn’t have to bother with parties and schmoozing and all the painful gyrations that went along with getting someone to do you a favor.

“Rob? Are you listening to me?”

“Not if you’re still haranguing me about the parties.”

“It would be good for you to get out every once in a while,” she persisted.

His thoughts drifted to the kiss he’d shared with Pepper.

“How long are you going to punish yourself for something that wasn’t your fault?”

He squinted at the computer screen, pointedly ignoring her, hoping Kate would take the hint and not go where this conversation seemed to be heading.

The door to his past was closed. Period. He would not revisit the events he’d permanently sealed behind it.

Instead, he allowed himself to revisit the memory of the kiss. It was a harmless memory. A good memory. Something that made him smile, no matter how fleeting and unsubstantial it was. But it was just a memory. He could relive it, but he wasn’t going to try to recreate it. They each had their own set of weighty baggage. So they were both better off leaving each other alone.

Spending time with his son was something real and concrete. Something he wanted to do. It certainly wasn’t punishment. No, punishment would be spending the evening with people who would cross him off their guest list the second his net worth fell off the Forbes Rich Roster.

Much in the same way the Dallas social set had exiled Pepper and her family. She was the perfect example of how society would chew you up and spit you out once you’d fallen from grace. At one time she’d been at the top of everyone’s guest list, too. Now she was the poster child for social pariahs. And as far as everyone knew, she’d had nothing to do with her family’s fall from grace.

If he had a soft spot for spoiled debutantes, he might feel sorry for her. Although he did have to admit, she was nothing like what he might’ve imagined if he’d been inclined to follow the local players. She’d handled the drunk guy with grace and dignity. But then again, at three o’clock in the morning in the middle of an empty airport, who wanted to take on a guy who was three times her size? Things might’ve been different if she’d had her entourage in tow.

Then again, maybe her entourage had ditched her, too—

“But you are still going with me to the Raven Chair Affair next week?” Kate said. “Yes?”

Rob let his body fall back into his chair, away from his keyboard, and exhaled audibly. Scrubbing the heels of his palms over his eyes, he purposely softened his tone. “May I choose the ‘bamboos under the fingernails’ option instead?”

Kate rolled her eyes. “No, you may not. Raven Chairez could give the Foundation a lot of money. Somehow, I don’t think I’m the one who could sweet-talk her.” Kate raised her eyebrows at him in a knowing way. “You need to start practicing your manners. Now.”

Raven Chairez was a piece of work. She was too old to still be throwing around her daddy’s money. Even worse was the way she threw fits when his money didn’t buy her exactly what she wanted. The only reason Rob knew this much about her was because Kate had briefed him about her. It struck him that if Pepper Merriweather was the poster child of the social pariah, then Raven Chairez was the picture of everything Rob hated about Dallas society. Plain and simple, she reminded him of his ex-wife. And when Kate had informed him that she’d heard through the grapevine that Raven Chairez was fixated on him—that he was a conquest she fully intended to make—Rob had made a point of avoiding all social situations where she might have the opportunity to corner him. Now, she was dangling the carrot of a potential hefty donation to the pediatric surgical wing.

One of the best ways to clinch that donation was by attending her Raven Chair Affair annual gala. Of course he would attend. But that didn’t mean he had to pass up this opportunity to make his sister sweat.

“Please promise me when you hire your new assistant, you won’t give her as hard a time as you give me over engagements like this.”

“Are you kidding? That’s special treatment I reserve only for you. Speaking of the new assistant, when are we beginning the interviews?”

They’d started the Foundation right after Kate had graduated with her master’s. She had been the one who had built it into what it was today, laying the groundwork for partnering with Celebration Memorial to build the pediatric surgical wing. In the process, she’d also taken on the additional duties of caretaker for Cody and himself after he’d gone through a string of personal assistants who didn’t work out.

With his divorce and Cody’s accident, Rob had been under a lot of stress, and Kate had come to both his and her nephew’s rescue.

It was time for his sister not only to separate the dual roles she’d been playing but to have a much deserved and long-overdue promotion within the Foundation. Rob had the unanimous support of the Foundation board, and it was a surprise Kate didn’t know was coming.

“I’ve lined up several people for you to interview,” she said. “But I’m not sure I’ve found the right person yet. So I’m still looking. In fact, I had lunch with Agnes Sherwood the other day. I asked her and a handful of other women of discerning taste to keep their ears open and let me know if they hear of someone good who is looking.”