man. One who was everything the magazine poll said he should be and more. A grin tugged at her lips as she opened the drawer labeled H and flipped through the folders. One who needed rescuing by a woman like her.
Amy Wells, Colby agent-in-training.
“GOOD MORNING, Edgar,” Victoria Colby-Camp said when her call was transferred to her impatient client. Edgar Winterborne had requested a rush on the background check of his prospective son-in-law, Texas oil tycoon John Robert Calhoun, IV.
“I hope you have good news for me, Victoria,” he said urgently. “There’s a lot riding on this deal.”
His one and only daughter’s future, Victoria silently filled in for him. Edgar Winterborne was about to pull off the merger of the century. Winterborne Industries of Illinois and Calhoun Oil of Texas were on the verge of becoming the Cal-Borne Alliance. The two families had been sworn enemies since before the Civil War. But the differences in the two went far deeper than North versus South, they were about money. The almighty dollar. Whoever had the most was in control.
And Edgar Winterborne’s somewhat spoiled daughter, as well as the Calhoun heir, were caught slap in the middle of it all.
“You can rest easy, Edgar,” Victoria told him. “John Calhoun is as clean as they come. His business dealings as well as his personal ones are as honest as they are impressive. If the man has a single skeleton in his closet, it’s not to be found.” That was one thing Victoria would stake her agency’s reputation on, thoroughness. The investigation into the Calhoun family had revealed many things: wealth, power and a strong hand in politics, but not one aspect leaned even remotely toward the negative. The Calhouns were a fine family, as were the Winterbornes. Victoria simply didn’t understand the motivation for the current no-holds-barred merger. Why couldn’t they just get along and do what had to be done within the business of refining oil without involving blood?
“This is very important to me,” Edgar interjected solemnly. “As much as I want this deal to happen, I want my daughter to be safe and happy.”
“I’m certain you do,” Victoria allowed for lack of anything else to say. Arranged marriages just weren’t heard of anymore. Certainly not in the United States of America. That either of the participants would be willing still amazed her. Then again, money could be a powerful motivator. She sincerely hoped it would prove to be about more than the money. Marriages fell apart everyday with partners who considered themselves to be in love. What hope could there be for a couple who hadn’t even met? She prayed they would work those details out before children were brought into the picture.
A child didn’t need that kind of uncertainty. Victoria knew that all too well. Children needed love, nurturing and support. Anything less left a permanent mark. She had been robbed of the opportunity to protect and nurture her own son. But he was back now and she intended to make up for every moment they had missed.
“I’ll be happy to have a copy of the report delivered to your home this afternoon,” she said, interrupting Edgar’s rambling about the price of crude and how it would take a strong American alliance to end this country’s dependence on foreign oil.
“That would be splendid. We’re planning on spending a few days down in Texas starting this evening,” he told her. “I’d like to take a look at that report before we leave.”
“I’ll have it delivered straight away then,” Victoria offered. “I’m sure Regina is looking forward to the trip.” Regina was Edgar’s daughter, the one whose life was about to change vastly. From all reports the young woman was quite a handful. She’d dropped out of three different colleges before completing her education. Her father had bailed her out of numerous financial scrapes and unsavory liaisons with ex-boyfriends. Victoria wasn’t certain for whom she felt the most sympathy, Regina Winterborne or John Calhoun, her prospective groom.
“I appreciate that, Victoria,” Edgar said. “I can always count on the Colby Agency.”
And that was the bottom line as far as Victoria was concerned. The Colby Agency always came through. “Thank you, Edgar. Have a pleasant trip to Texas.” With that the call ended and Victoria pressed the buzzer for Mildred. “Ask Amy to step into my office, please.”
“Will do,” Mildred returned pleasantly.
Victoria’s brow furrowed with worry as she waited for Amy’s arrival. Mildred had been her secretary since the Colby Agency’s inception. She did not want to lose her, but Victoria had a feeling that as Mildred’s relationship progressed with her current beau, Dr. Austin Ballard, that possibility became more and more likely. Dr. Ballard had already retired and turned his pharmaceuticals company over to his daughter Jennifer. His one desire now was to enjoy each day and to travel—with the new love in his life, Victoria feared selfishly. She considered asking Ethan Delaney, one of her top investigators, to talk to Jennifer. After all, she was his wife. He’d rescued both Jennifer and her father from the evil that had threatened them not so long ago. It was at Ethan and Jennifer’s wedding that Mildred had met Dr. Ballard. Maybe, Victoria reflected, she’d have a little chat with Ethan later today.
Just then Amy Wells entered the room, her smile bright, her expression eager. As always her appearance was professional yet very hip. She wore a pair of hip-hugger khakis and a slim-fitting navy sweater that just met the wide leather belt accentuating the low-riding slacks as well as her slender hips. Her long dark hair looked silky, the straight style quite youthful. But it was her brown eyes that shone above all else. Amy was bright and always, always polite.
Though Victoria considered Amy an asset to the agency, somehow she just couldn’t see her as Mildred’s replacement should that necessity arise. It wasn’t for lack of ability, Victoria knew. Amy’s heart just didn’t appear to be in the world of clerical duties. Though she always did an outstanding job, whether she was filing or interacting with the clientele, still, something was missing.
Inspiration, Victoria decided. Amy was not inspired by her work and that troubled Victoria. They would have to talk. Soon.
“How are you today, Amy?” she said, forcing away the lines of concern with a heartfelt smile.
“Fine, Victoria. How can I help you?”
Victoria studied her for one moment more before she relayed her needs. There was a hopefulness about her that gave Victoria pause. Maybe they should have that talk now. But, she remembered, Edgar Winterborne needed the report right away—in time to review it before leaving for Texas.
Her usual keen focus fractured, Victoria shuffled the pages of the report together and slid them into a large white envelope. After penning Edgar’s name and address on the front, she pressed the clasp into place and offered the closed envelope to Amy.
“Mr. Winterborne is waiting for this report. I’d like you to hand-carry it to his residence. Deliver it personally to him.”
Amy nodded. “Sure. Anything else?”
Again that hopeful flicker of something just beneath the surface. Concern drew a new line between Victoria’s eyebrows. “Is there something we need to discuss, Amy?” Despite the shortness of time, she simply couldn’t send her away without asking.
A mask of uncertainty instantly claimed the young woman’s features. “Everything’s fine, ma’am,” she said hesitantly. “Was there anything else you needed?”
Confident there was more, but, considering the shortness of time, willing to let it go, Victoria nodded. “That’s all.” She watched Amy hurry away. It was past time she got to the bottom of this. With the possibility of Mildred taking an extended leave or worse, Victoria couldn’t afford to have Amy unhappy. She was the only person at the agency who knew the many secrets of how Mildred accomplished her numerous and varied tasks. No way could Victoria risk losing them both, and she certainly couldn’t stand in the way of true love.
The blessing—or curse depending upon the way one looked at it—of true love without fail found her investigators one by one. No matter how they tried to evade it, it always homed in on its target. Case in point, Trevor Sloan.