an only child, she had no one else to look to for grandchildren. While he’d rather do most anything than disappoint her, he simply hadn’t been able to make that commitment. When a woman interfered with his job, he cut her loose.
Kaylee seemed much the same. A match made in heaven. A smile crossed Cutler’s lips. She had looked so soft, so delicate, so much a woman, and he desperately wanted to get to know her better. He sensed she felt the same way, although she had turned down his invitation to dinner.
He wasn’t giving up, though. He wouldn’t have tagged her as a woman who played coy, but he couldn’t rule that out. Not yet, anyway. Whatever obstacle held her back, he’d bet it had something to do with those sad eyes, and he wanted to overcome it.
The bottom line was he wanted her and he intended to have her.
His cell phone rang again. “Damn,” he muttered as he stood. Without looking at the caller ID, he said, “McFarland.”
“Son?”
“Hi, Dad, what’s up?”
“It’s your mother.”
It wasn’t so much what Trevor said, but the tone he used. Hair stood up on the back of Cutler’s neck. “What about her?”
“She’s sick. I need to call the doctor, only she won’t let me.”
Swallowing his panic, Cutler said, “Call the damn doctor. I’m on my way.”
Six
Drew Rush stared at the blonde’s creamy white rear exposed to his view.
“Cover yourself,” he said in a harsh tone.
Jill Jay rolled over and stared at him through wide, wary eyes. “You’re not coming back to bed?”
“Did you hear what I said?”
Her wariness turned to fear, and she bolted upright. “Uh, sorry.”
“If you do like you’re told, you never have to be sorry.” Though he never raised his voice, it sounded chilling even to his own ears. “How many times do I have to tell you that?” A cold smile accompanied that question.
Her lower lip shook. “No more. I promise.”
“I hope not. Get your clothes on and get out.”
She scrambled off the bed and within ten minutes was gone, leaving him to ready himself for a long and hopefully profitable day. While he’d had a good time with Jill, he didn’t care if he ever saw her again.
His stable was too full of women to ride the same horse more than once. Variety was what kept him young and pumped, despite his sixty-plus years. He didn’t feel old, and he never wanted to act it. He didn’t have to use Viagra, a fact that made him feel like a real stud since so many of his cronies talked about using the drug. They bragged about how wonderful it was, but Drew just saw it as a weakness that was abhorrent.
He had it made with women, just as he did in every other aspect of his life. He was one fortunate bastard who had no one to thank but himself.
Drew was still patting himself on the back when he entered his office some thirty minutes later. Edgar Benton was waiting for him.
“How long have you been here?”
Edgar’s normally pale face showed no reaction. “Not long. Just thought I’d hang around to see if you have some last-minute instructions.”
“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