Lone Star Millionaire (5 page)

The girl watched Cal warily, as if deciding whether or not to trust him. He took another step toward her. Sabrina wanted to warn him to take things slowly. After all, if she was having this much trouble absorbing what was happening, Anastasia would be suffering with the same problem.

But she couldn't get it together enough to speak. She was too stunned by Anastasia's appearance and this tiny house that smelled of neglect and poverty.

Cal reached out to touch his daughter's cheek. She spun away and glared at him. “You're not my father,” she spat. “You're just the bastard who knocked up my mother. Go to hell.”

With that, she raced for the bedroom and slammed the door behind her. Sabrina flinched at the sound. Cal looked as if he'd been sucker punched. Only Mrs. Sellis didn't react.

“I told you she was difficult. So, about the check. I think eight thousand ought to cover it.”

“If you think—” Cal began, then visibly took control of himself.

“Excuse us,” Sabrina said, then moved close to him, took his arm and pulled him into the kitchen. “Cal, look at me.”

“That woman,” he growled. “She's been starving her. That kid hasn't eaten in days. Longer. Don't try to tell me she's got an eating disorder. This isn't about trying to be thin enough. We're talking about neglect and possibly emotional abuse. I can't believe—”

He stopped talking and ran his hand through his hair. “Dammit, Sabrina, did you hear what my own kid said to me?”

“I know, but you can't take it personally. She's scared. She doesn't know you from a rock, and here you are, ready to take her away.”

“Anything would be better than this place.”

“She doesn't know that. This is all she knows right now. Okay, it's horrible and she hates it, but at least it's familiar.” She gazed at her boss. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to get my kid out of here.”

She thought for a moment. “Why don't you talk with Mrs. Sellis and I'll collect Anastasia. I think I'm less of an emotional button for her right now. As far as how she was treated, you can call Jack when we're in Houston and let him take care of it.”

Cal swore, then pulled Sabrina close and rested his chin on her head. “Thanks. I wouldn't be able to get through this without you. I'd want to tear that old lady apart, limb by limb.”

Sabrina ignored the fluttering in her chest and the heat from Cal's body. “You wouldn't like prison, Cal. I don't think you'd do well there.”

“Probably not.” He took a step back, then shrugged. “She's going to come around, isn't she?”

She knew he meant his daughter. “She's been through a lot and it's going to take some time, but sure, she'll come around. You're going to be a great dad.”

She spoke with more confidence than she felt. While she didn't doubt Cal's abilities, she was concerned about Anastasia. She'd suffered tremendously, and she'd had to do it alone. That kind of experience could leave a person scarred for life.

She and Cal went back into the living room. Mrs. Sellis watched them, her dark eyes glowing with greed. Sabrina ignored her and crossed to the closed door. She hesitated, almost afraid of what she would find on the other side, then drew a breath and turned the handle.

The bedroom was tiny, dark and even more dirty than the living room. Sabrina didn't want to think about what might be living under the bed. Clothes were scattered all over. There were dirty plates, glasses, torn magazines and dirt everywhere. Anastasia lay curled up on the bed, with her back to the door. Her shoulders shook, but she didn't make a sound.

Sabrina stared at her and tried to decide the best way to handle the situation. Her instinct was to offer the girl comfort, but her gut told her that was wrong. Right now Anastasia was scared and angry. Compassion would be viewed as weakness. She decided to go for logic.

“Boy, were you stupid,” she said, her tone conversational.

That got the hoped-for response. The girl stopped crying.

“Talk about blowing a perfect setup. Look at this place. It's disgusting. I know you hate it here.”

“No, I don't” came the defiant response.

“Oh, so that's why you ran away a couple of times. And now this basically nice guy shows up, a guy who is, by the way, your father. He just found out about you and he wants to take care of you. Instead of saying thanks or even hi, you call him a bastard and run out of the room. Like I said, not really bright. I guess you want to go to that state home, huh?”

Anastasia rolled over and glared at her. “No, I don't. I won't go there. I swear, I'll die first.”

Sabrina shrugged. “You want to stay with Mrs. Sellis?”

Anastasia wiped the tears from her face. The moisture smeared the dirt there. “She hates me. She only wants the money the government sends.” Full lips trembled. “I want to go home.”

Sabrina's chest tightened. She knew exactly what the girl meant. She wanted her old life back—the one where her adoptive parents were still alive and she was allowed to live in blissful ignorance about the tragedies of life.

“I know,” Sabrina told her. “Unfortunately, no one can
make that happen. But living with your dad might not be so bad. You could at least try it.”

Anastasia glared at her. “Who are you? His wife?”

It was the second time that day she'd been asked the question. “No, I work for him.”

“Oh, the secretary.” The dismissal was clear.

“No, the personal assistant. I'm the one who makes his life run smoothly. If you're smart, you'll realize I'll have the same power over your life. I'm not so bad, kid. I have two sisters and a brother, all three younger than me, so I'm on to you. You can't scam me. I know this isn't going to mean anything now, but I'm more than willing to be your friend.” She held up her hand. “Don't say something you're going to regret later.”

Anastasia just glared.

Sabrina smiled brightly. “So what's it going to be? You want to throw a tantrum or two and stay here? I think Mrs. Sellis is serious about sending you away. Or you can take a chance on your dad and come along. Houston is kinda hot in the summer, but it's nice.” She looked around the room. “Nicer than here. With a little luck you might be happy there.”

“If I was lucky, I would still have my parents.” Anastasia sat up. “Why does he care about what happens to me?”

Sabrina assumed the “he” in question was Cal. “Because he's your father. He wants to take responsibility for you. Foolishly, I'll bet he even wants to care about you.”

The girl's mouth twisted as if there was no way she was going to believe that.

“It's up to you. You coming or not?”

Anastasia drew in a deep breath, then rose to her feet. “I guess.”

They were standing pretty close. Sabrina noted the dull cast of her skin and the unwashed smell of her body. This kid needed someone to care about her, and she was willing to bet
Cal was the man for the job. It wasn't going to be easy, but it would be worth it in the end.

She motioned to the room. “Do you have a suitcase?”

Anastasia stared at her as if she'd grown another head. “I'm not going to bring anything from here. I want to forget I ever saw this place.” She headed for the door, then changed her mind. “Wait.” She bent down, drew a tattered shoe box out from under the bed, then clutched it to her chest. “I'm ready.”

Sabrina stared at her dirty face and thought her heart was going to break. She knew better than to ask about a doll or other toy. Anastasia wouldn't have any. Obviously taking clothes would be a waste of time. They would all have to be thrown out, anyway. She swallowed the lump forming at the back of her throat and led the way to the door.

They entered the living room. Mrs. Sellis stood holding a check and looking stunned.

“Let's go,” Cal said, and motioned for them to leave.

Sabrina touched Anastasia's thin arm. “Do you want a minute to say goodbye?”

Anastasia didn't even glance at the woman who had taken care of her for the past year. Instead she marched outside without once looking back. “Is that it?” she asked, pointing to the rental car.

“Yes.”

She walked toward it, then climbed into the back seat and slammed the door shut. She sat still, staring straight ahead.

“My lawyer will be in touch,” Cal told Mrs. Sellis.

“You tell him to call me and I'll sign whatever you say.” The woman smiled. “She's a fine girl. You're going to be happy you took her.”

Cal let the screen door slam into place. He put his hand on the small of Sabrina's back and ushered her toward the car.

“A fine girl?” she questioned. “So how big was the check?”

“Ten.”

“Thousand?” She went on without waiting for a response. “She doesn't deserve anything but a trip from social services. No wonder she suddenly thinks Anastasia is a prize.”

“Anastasia is my daughter, and the old woman
has
custody of her. It would have taken time to get custody if she didn't hand it over. And I wasn't going to leave Anastasia there another minute.”

They paused by the car door. Cal glanced at her. “She called me a bastard.”

“She was upset.”

“She's only twelve. How does she know language like that?”

“Cal, they say words like that on television.”

“I guess. It's just…”

“She's not what you were expecting.”

“There's an understatement,” he muttered.

“You're the one who said she'd been through a lot,” Sabrina said, reminding him of his words.

He grunted in response, indicating he wanted to change the subject. She wasn't going to let him get away with that.

“Either you understand or you don't,” she said. “You had to know this was going to be difficult. If you're not up to taking responsibility for her, decide now. She's not a puppy you can return to the breeder if it doesn't work out. She's a human being, with feelings and hopes and dreams. Right now she's an ill-tempered bratty girl who has not only lost her parents but lived with that woman for the past year. It's going to take a lot of time and love to help her heal. It may never happen. Are you prepared to take that chance?”

Cal stared back at the small house, at the weed-filled lawn and the crooked screen door. “You don't think much of me, do you?”

“Actually I think a lot of you. However, I'm not sure you're prepared to deal with this reality.”

He wanted to tell her she was wrong, but he knew better. Everything Sabrina said was the truth. He had thought Anastasia would be different. At least cleaner. But that wasn't her fault. Was he willing to be responsible?

“She's my child,” he said. “If I'd known about her, I would have taken care of her when she was born. I'm still willing to make sure she's all right. I don't expect it to be perfect.”

“Or even easy.”

He glanced at the sullen child in the car. “It's not going to be easy. I've already figured that part out.”

He walked around to open Sabrina's door, then returned to the driver's side and stepped into the car.

“Did Sabrina tell you I live in Houston?” he asked as he fastened his seat belt.

Anastasia didn't acknowledge he'd spoken. He checked in the rearview mirror. Her gaze remained fixed straight ahead.

“We'll be flying there. Have you ever been on a plane?”

She shrugged faintly. “No, but it's no big deal. Even dorks can fly.”

He swallowed the flash of irritation and the sharp retort that followed. “I know this is hard,” he said, gentling his voice. “I just found out about you yesterday, so we're both kind of in shock. I want—” He paused, not sure what he did want. “I want you to be happy with me. It will take some time for us to get to know each other, but that won't be so bad.”

She didn't respond.

He glanced at Sabrina, who gave him an encouraging smile. “I'm sorry about your adoptive parents,” he told his daughter.

She raised her head and glared at him. Even in the reflection of the rearview mirror, he felt the intensity in her gaze.

“They're not my adoptive parents,” she said loudly. “They're my real parents. Get it? Real. As in the only parents I've ever had and the only ones I want. I don't want you.
You're not my father, you're some, some sperm donor. I don't want to be here. I don't want to go to Houston. I don't want to talk to you or anyone, so just leave me alone.”

Cal turned in his seat in time to see her fold in on herself. She wrapped her arms around her chest and rocked back and forth. Sobs caught in her throat like hiccups.

He was furious at what she'd said, surprisingly hurt by her assessment of his value in her life, uncomfortable and confused by her tears. So far, parenting was a bitch.

Sabrina reached out and touched Anastasia's head. The girl jerked back. “Leave me alone,” she muttered.

His assistant shrugged. “You're not going to take her back to that woman, so let's just drive to the airport. We can figure this all out later.”

Cal started the engine. They drove in silence. Eventually Anastasia's tears slowed. She curled up on the seat, and by the time they'd traveled about ten miles down the interstate, she was asleep.

He looked at Sabrina. “Thank you,” he said.

“For what?”

“For just being with me. I couldn't have done this without you.”

She smiled. “That's why you pay me the big bucks, boss.”

He knew she was more than an employee. Their relationship had always been largely undefined. Sometimes strictly business, sometimes more like friends. He didn't care what people called it as long as she stayed right where she was.

T
he flight to Houston was going to take about three hours, and they'd already been in the air for nearly two. Cal leaned back in his seat and tried to relax, but he couldn't. Again and again his attention strayed to the seat across the aisle where Anastasia lay curled up, asleep.

“You can't solve all the world's problems today,” Sabrina said, repeating a phrase he often used on her.

“I hate it when you throw my words back in my face,” he muttered. “And I know it's true. I can't. But what about her?”

The first-class section of the aircraft had two seats on either side of the aisle. Sabrina had taken the single seat across from the two together, but Anastasia had wanted to switch. Obviously she wasn't interested in sitting next to her father.

Cal tried not to take her actions personally. The kid had known about him only a few days, and they'd been in each other's company for less than five hours. She was alone and
scared, and the past year of her life had been hell. It made sense that she would do her best to protect herself against what she saw as threats to her safety. But telling himself was one thing, while believing it was another.

He looked at the child he'd fathered, at her dirty hair and thin face. He wondered what Anastasia thought of her first plane trip, of the amenities of first class. Then he reminded himself she had nothing to compare any of it to. At least he knew she'd enjoyed the food. She'd gobbled her dinner with a haste that had made him wince.

“What are you thinking?” Sabrina asked.

He forced himself to relax a little. “I was wondering how long it had been since the kid had eaten.”

“She was enthusiastic about her meal,” Sabrina agreed.

She glanced down at her list and crossed off another item. Since the meal service had ended, Sabrina had been making arrangements and ordering things for his daughter. He was, Cal realized, pitifully unprepared for the arrival of a child into his life. Just thinking about the professional but impersonal decorations in the guest room made him wince.

“No,” Sabrina said quietly. “You're not allowed to think that you made a mistake.”

“I wasn't thinking that.”

“Something close.” She laid her hand on top of his forearm. “You're not to blame for Anastasia being so unhappy, nor are the circumstances of her life your responsibility. You never knew about her. If you had, you would have done something. As soon as you found out, you took measures to get her.”

Her touch comforted him. He looked at his daughter. “She's not exactly what I imagined.”

“Remember what you told Jack. That she's been through a terrible year. No one would thrive living with Mrs. Sellis. Add the loss of her parents and you have a recipe for disaster.”

“Are you saying there's nothing to be done? That she'll never come around?”

Sabrina shook her head. “Of course not. But she's going to need a lot of time and love. If there isn't some progress in the first couple of months, counseling might not be a bad idea.”

Cal grunted. Counseling he could handle, but the love part… What was that? To the best of his knowledge, his parents had never loved him or Tracey. He knew he'd never really loved anyone, and none of the women in his life had ever felt that emotion for him. Love. Maybe it was all a fantasy.

It was his fault. He'd pictured the meeting between him and his daughter as something of a cross between a television sitcom and the musical
Annie.
The thought of his daughter being someone like Anastasia had never occurred to him. Of course he probably wasn't what she wanted, either.

He looked at his daughter. Curled up in the wide seat, she seemed so small and painfully thin. “I don't know what to do with her. I don't know what to say.”

“Say that. Tell her you're just as confused as she is. When a child loses his or her parents, everything in the world changes. One minute you're secure and innocent in your belief that life as you know it will go on forever. The next minute, that innocence is ripped away. It's a painful process. Kids aren't sure they can ever risk trusting anyone again. What if they do and that person goes away?” She tapped her pen against the paper resting on her tray and shrugged. “You can get over the pain, but I doubt anyone who has been through that ever forgets.”

“How old were you when you lost your parents?”

“Fourteen. So a couple of years older than Anastasia. I also had the advantage of my brother and sisters around me. Gram stepped right in to take care of us, so we never had to move.
That was something, but it wasn't enough. That was the hardest thing I've ever been through. Your daughter had it much harder than I did. Try to remember that.”

“The next time she calls me a bastard?”

“Maybe it will help.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Cal studied Sabrina's face. So familiar, so comforting. He'd grown used to asking her advice and listening to her words. She was his sounding board, his trusted adviser, his friend and sometimes his conscience.

“All right, little lady,” he drawled, knowing she hated to be called that. “I'll take what you said into consideration.”

“Toad.” She removed her hand from his arm.

“It occurs to me,” he began, “that you're the one with the expertise in this area.”

She turned toward him and shook her head. “Don't even think about it,” she warned. “I mean it, Cal. For one thing, Anastasia isn't a mess to be tidied. For another, she's your daughter and you have to take the time to get to know her, not to mention letting her get to know you. That's important. I know it will be hard, but you have to struggle through this on your own.”

He resisted the urge to whine that he didn't want to. Mostly because he knew she was right. “I don't know how to do this.”

“I'll help,” she promised. Her eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “I know it's none of my business and you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but what was it like for you, when you were growing up?”

He shrugged. “Different from what you remember, I'm sure. We had a big house in River Oaks,” he said, naming the exclusive area of Houston. “My father traveled a lot. My mother had charities and luncheons all the time. There was a staff, although we never kept anyone for too long. For reasons I'll never understand, my mother always hired young, attrac
tive women to work in the house. My father didn't believe the rules of fidelity applied to him, so he took advantage of the ‘landscaping,' as he used to call them. Mother would find out and fire the women. Anyone lasting three months was considered a family retainer.”

Sabrina's blue eyes darkened. “Cal, that's horrible. You knew about your father and what he was doing?”

“Sure. He bragged about it. Kept telling me that I was just like him.” Cal stiffened in his seat, then had to consciously force himself to relax. “I swore I would be different. That's why I only date one woman at a time. No commitment, but complete monogamy.”

She angled toward him and rested the side of her head against the seat back. “I shouldn't have asked.”

“It's not a problem. You probably need to know this. In case I get weird with Anastasia or something. My parents were never much interested in us unless they needed to parade us out, or wanted to be seen at a sporting event or recital. I was the serious kid, did well in school, that kind of thing. Tracey was born wild. She's four years older, and I think I was about ten the first time she ran away. By the time she was fifteen, she'd already had an abortion. She didn't get into drugs much, but she loves her liquor.”

“I'm sorry,” she said.

“Nothing to be sorry for. I survived. Look at where the company is now. We're earning four times what we did when my father was still alive.”

“But that doesn't make up for the past.”

She saw too much. In an effort to distract her, or maybe because he needed the connection, he took her free hand in his.

Her skin was smooth, her nails short and neatly filed. She didn't resist the contact, nor did she encourage him by responding. He was, he knew, getting close to a line he'd never
crossed with her. For one thing, he refused to be his father, who had been forever after the hired help. For another, he respected Sabrina too much to play games with her.

But this wasn't a game. Maybe it was Anastasia. Maybe it was that they'd been working together for so long. Whatever the reason, lately he'd been feeling that he needed Sabrina. Thank the Lord she was happy in her work. He would never get through this without her.

“Think there's a class in parenting I can take?” he asked.

She laughed. “Sure, but it's going to be about dealing with newborns. Most people learn to be a parent while their offspring learn to be kids. You're jumping in the middle. Give yourself a break, Cal, and don't expect perfection the first time.”

“I don't expect anything close to that. I just don't want to screw up too badly.”

“I promise to point out any gross errors.”

“I bet you can't wait. You always get a kick out of telling me I'm wrong.”

“I know.” She sighed. “One would think I would get tired of that, what with you giving me so many opportunities.”

The insult sunk in and he squeezed her fingers. Not enough to hurt, but enough to get her attention. “You, little lady, are being disrespectful.”

“You, Mr. John Wayne wannabe, earned it.”

Her smile was contagious. Cal felt some of his tension ease. He'd never failed at anything in his life. There was no reason to think he couldn't have a good relationship with his daughter.

Sabrina freed her hand and tucked her short hair behind her ear. In the soft overhead light, she looked younger than thirty. While she wasn't his type, she was pretty enough. Her mind was razor sharp and a constant challenge. She was funny, sensitive and easy to be with.

“So why aren't you married?” he asked.

Sabrina stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“You've been working for me for over six years and I've never once heard you mention having a man in your life. Why?”

“I don't have time.”

“That's a crock. You have evenings and weekends off, not to mention four weeks of vacation a year.”

“Cal! Be serious. I'm usually with you until you leave for your dinner date, which means seven or seven-thirty. A lot of times, I still have more work to do. We travel constantly. More weekends than not I'm in the office, or following you around some event. As for vacation, last year I took two long weekends to visit my family. According to Ada, I've accrued about ninety-seven vacation days.”

Had he really been working her that much? “You could have said something.”

“I'm not complaining, I'm stating facts. The truth is, I haven't minded. I knew what the job would be like when I took it. For the past few years, career has been more important to me. When that changes, I'll do something about it.”

“Just don't take those ninety-seven days all at once. Everything would fall apart.” And he would miss her. Cal pushed that thought away.

“I won't, I promise.”

“So there's no one who's caught your eye? No young executive or engineer in the company?”

She covered her face with her hands, then let her arms drop back to her sides. “Do not even think about fixing me up with one of your executives. I told you, it hasn't been important to me.”

He studied her for a minute, then snapped his fingers. “Someone broke your heart,” he announced, pleased he'd figured out the mystery. On the heels of pleasure came concern. “Who was he?”

She glared at him. “I'm not even going to ask how you
figured that out. Okay, yes, there was this guy, but it was a long time ago and it's not really important.”

He leaned toward her. “Tell Uncle Cal everything.”

She took a deep breath. “I was in college and I fell for this guy. He was very popular and handsome. You know the cliché. I couldn't figure out why he would want to date me, but he did. Anyway, we were together nearly two years. I thought we were going to get married. He thought he would use me to get his grades up high enough to get into a great law school. And he did. He left for Harvard and never once got in touch with me again.”

She told the story easily, as if it didn't matter. Enough time had passed that maybe it didn't. But Cal thought he saw tension in her body.

“Do you still miss him?”

She looked at him as if he were insane. “Of course not. He was a jerk.”

“But he broke your heart.”

“Let's just say he made it difficult for me to trust easily.”

He wanted to ask her if she trusted him. Not that it mattered, he told himself. They had a relationship based on the fact that she was his employee, nothing more.

“Don't worry about me,” she said. “For now, this works.”

He didn't like the sound of that. “And when it doesn't work?”

She raised her eyebrows. “You didn't expect me to stick around forever, did you?”

Actually, he'd never thought about her leaving. “So you're going to leave me for a man. That's just like a woman.”

“It's just like a man to say ‘just like a woman' when he's trying to get his way.” She gave him a quick smile. “Don't worry, Cal. I have no plans to leave anytime soon. I'll be around to help you with your daughter.”

He'd nearly forgotten. Cal turned and looked at the sleeping girl. She was much quieter when she was asleep and
he found he liked that. It gave him time to think and try to figure out what on earth he was supposed to do with her now that he had her.

 

“You can't leave,” Cal said, his voice low but frantic.

Sabrina raised her eyes toward the heavens and planted her hands on her hips. “I can't stay here forever. Face it, you're going to be alone with your daughter eventually. Why not get it over with now? In time it will get easier.”