The Tycoon (50 page)

Shannon felt a mild relief. She didn’t want cold water thrown on her good mood. She left her chair, walked over and pressed her cheek against her grandmother’s. “Thanks, Grammy. You’re the best grandma I ever had.”

Grammy Evelyn gave a little old lady chuckle. “I believe I’m the
only
grandma you’ve ever had.”

Indeed. Shannon’s mother’s mother had been out of the picture since Shannon was a child and she didn’t even know why. “I believe you’re right, Grammy.” They both laughed.

“You just be careful,” Grammy Evelyn said again. “Don’t let him mistreat you just because he’s a Lockhart.”

****

The Town Car picked her up again on Thursday afternoon and delivered her to Lockhart Tower. She and Drake piled into his Aston Martin and roared off to San Antonio, where they slept in an historic old hotel near the Alamo.

The next morning, along with hundreds of other tourists, they inched through the most famous historical monument in Texas. Drake had visited it several times. At every exhibit, he stopped and expounded on the display and the related event. Until then, she hadn’t known he

liked history and knew a lot about it.

He seemed more relaxed than she had known him to be up to now. She loved every minute of seeing him as she suspected few people did. But as he told historical facts and stories, that feeling of inadequacy flickered anew within her, reminding her that he was so much better educated than she was and had always lived in a different world.

After the Alamo tour, they browsed in the gift shop where she bought a collector’s spoon for Grammy Evelyn. Then they moved on to the Mexican market where she bought trinkets for her friends. He showed no interest in picking up souvenirs and she suddenly wondered about his friends. She had seen no sign of them and heard little about them.

They ambled along the Riverwalk, ate delicious Mexican food. When a strolling Mariachi band stopped and played a romantic Mexican ballad at their table, Drake reached across and covered her hand with his.

He had obtained premium tickets to a music concert in Austin conducted by Texas Country musicians. Tomorrow they would drive to Austin.

****

Late Friday afternoon, Betty Lockhart was scurrying around like a mad woman. She and Barron were leaving at noon tomorrow. She still had a million things to do. She was in Macy’s at the cosmetic counter when her cell phone warbled a George Strait song. She dug it out of her purse and keyed in to the call.

“Hi, Betty, remember me?” a female voice said.

Betty had heard that voice. Her brow tightened as she scrolled through her memory, but came up blank. “Um, no I don’t think I do.”

“It’s Tammy.”

“Tammy?”

“Tammy McMillan.” She laughed. “Or I should say it’s Harper now.”

Betty could have been blown over by a feather. To hear from Donna Schoonover out of the blue was one thing, but to hear from Drake’s former fiancé of fifteen years ago was a monumental shock. “Oh, my God. Tammy. How are you?”

“Fine. I’m living in Fort Worth now and I heard you’re living here, too.”

“Well, my goodness. How did you find me?”

“I joined the Riverside golf club and I saw your name on the roster. I talked to someone who knows you and she gave me your cell number. It’s really a small world.”

“It certainly is. I can’t believe you’re here now. The last I heard, you had moved to Arizona.” Betty deliberately omitted a comment about Tammy’s husband.

“That’s one of those long stories. Listen, I thought we might get together for lunch. Or dinner or something. We might even go for a golf game someday when the weather’s pretty.”

“I’d love that, darling.”

Old times bombarded Betty. The McMillans owned the ranch adjoining the Double-Barrel. Betty had known them most of her life. Once the McMillans and Lockharts had been good friends. For six years, they had anticipated they would join families until Tammy broke her engagement with Drake and married a pro golfer from Arizona. Betty had never known the whole truth of the breakup. To this day, Drake refused to discuss it.

“Where are you folks these days?” Betty asked.

“Still in Scottsdale. Still playing golf.” Tammy laughed again.

Tammy’s father had always been as much a Texas redneck as Bill Junior. Betty couldn’t imagine him playing golf any more than she could Bill Junior. Betty distinctly remembered that

the McMillans had moved to Arizona to be near their only daughter and her children. “My, my. And you’re here now?”

Tammy laughed again. “I know, right? Ironic, isn’t it?”

“Ma’am, did you want to purchase this mascara?” the cosmetic clerk she had been dealing with asked.

“Oh, excuse me, darling,” she said to the clerk and handed over her credit card. “I’m in Macy’s,” she said to Tammy, so I can’t really talk. And I’m leaving town tomorrow, but I’d love to visit with you for hours. Are you busy this evening?”

“Not really.”

“Come to my house then. I’ll cook dinner. I haven’t cooked in weeks. But I warn you, it’ll be something simple.”

“Sounds good to me. Give me your address.”

Soon Betty was speeding toward home, her thoughts churning.
Tammy McMillan. My God. What are the odds?

After Tammy and Drake’s breakup, the friendship between the two families became too awkward to continue. Then, not long after Tammy moved to Arizona, the McMillans leased out their ranch and followed her.

Still, someday Tammy would inherit the MCM Ranch, lock, stock and barrel, and its half a dozen producing gas wells. The MCM wasn’t as big a spread as the Double-Barrel, but it was big enough and rich enough to make Tammy a wealthy woman.

When Drake and Tammy were engaged, Betty had thought them a perfect match—long-acquainted, both from old Texas families, both with small-town upbringing and deep roots in the cattle ranching business. Both beautiful people. Betty had expected them to spawn beautiful babies who would fill her hours and life with joy.

As she pulled into her garage and parked, she was so glad she hadn’t called Donna Schoonover back. If she was going to broker a make-up date between Drake and any woman, that woman should be Tammy McMillan.

Chapter 30

For Shannon, the latest chapter in the fairy tale ended on Sunday. The black Town Car appeared at Lockhart Tower to pick her up and take her back to Camden. She climbed into the backseat, closed her eyes and tried to nap in the cushy comfort.

But she couldn’t sleep. Keeping her in a state of semi-consciousness was the fact that precisely what she feared
would
happen
had
happened. For four days, she had left the real estate office totally in Terry’s care, hadn’t even discussed it, had scarcely thought about it. She had even shoved the deal on her five-acre corner to the back of her mind.
Just sex
had flown out the window and all she could do was dwell on Drake’s every word and action.

Her cranky alter ego beat a drum in the back of her mind that said this could not end well for Shannon Piper. Somehow, she had to get control of her emotions.

The first thing she would do to get herself back on track toward good sense would be to decline his sending a car for her. He was trying to do something good for her, but she felt like a “kept woman.” She didn’t like having it pull up in front of Grammy Evelyn’s house. Everyone on the Camden square could see it and see her get into it and out of it. No doubt they were already talking.

****

After the Town Car disappeared from his sight, Drake lingered a few minutes in the parking garage, dreading going upstairs to his empty condo. Gloom weighted his shoulders like a heavy cape. He hadn’t wanted Shannon to leave. And that was crazy. He had to get back to work and so did she. He had a planned trip to Honolulu coming up next weekend to watch a couple of his favorite golfers play in the Sony Open. Consequently, he had two weeks’ worth of work to do in a few days.

Upstairs, unmotivated to work, he dragged a bottle of Perrier out of the fridge and sauntered over to the window wall. The weather was nice today, but another cold front was expected tomorrow.

The weather had been great while he and Shannon were in San Antonio and Austin, too. He couldn’t believe she was over thirty years old and had never seen the Alamo. Or strolled the Riverwalk. He had done all of those things many times as a younger man. After Tammy had dumped him, he had spent many a weekend partying in the bars on the Riverwalk.

These days he hardly ever frequented tourist attractions, but he was happy he had chosen to entertain Shannon in that way. A sense of pure joy had filled him at her fascination with the Alamo and its rich history. He thought about how she had loved the Mariachi band in one of the Mexican cafes on the Riverwalk. And she had loved the Robert Earle Keen concert. who was, by anybody’s standards, a Texas music legend.

Now Drake knew what it was about Shannon that drew him. The way he saw her was exactly who she was. No phoniness, no airs, no ulterior motives. She was just Shannon. Beautiful, smart, fun, a quick wit laced with a touch of cynicism and a fascination for everything around her. He liked her more every time he saw her, liked being with her, liked making her happy. And making love to her drenched him with unadulterated bliss.

Whoa!
When had
just sex
turned into making love?

****

When Shannon arrived at home, her grandmother was absorbed in one of her TV shows, her fingers working away on crocheting a baby afghan. Shannon was glad she was busy because

she was exhausted. After a brief chat, she went to her room and fell into bed.

Monday morning, she awoke with cramps, a relief considering how often she’d had sex in the past month. She didn’t dare complain, lest the gods of retribution decide she deserved a comeuppance, such as a leaky condom or a miscalculation. She was eager to get to her office and learn what had gone on in her short absence. Maybe one of her team had written a deal that needed her review and signature. Maybe the owner of the five-acre parcel had made a decision. Though still worn out and having no energy, she pushed herself out of bed.

She dressed and made her entrance into the kitchen. Her grandmother had oatmeal and hot tea waiting for her. An Asian friend of Grammy Evelyn’s brought her oolong tea from the Asian market in the Metroplex and Shannon loved it.

Before leaving town on Thursday, she had again called on Christa and her two sons to look in on Grammy Evelyn every day, but she suspected that yesterday, Grammy had hitched a ride to church with Colleen and Gavin. “How was church?” she asked as she scooped hot oatmeal into a bowl.

“Oh, I thought we’d never get away after the service. Gavin had to shake hands and visit with everyone he saw. He’s decided to go ahead and announce for the legislature from this district. He’s going to be a Democrat.”

“Wow. How’d he come to that decision?” Shannon carried her oatmeal and tea to the table.

Her grandmother followed her and sat down opposite her. “He says Democrats outnumber Republicans two to one in this county. So the odds are better that he can win if he’s a Democrat.”

Shannon sipped the soothing tea. Nothing was better for her cramps than hot tea. She had no comment on her brother-in-law’s political career.

“Colleen said a popular judge from Waco is running against him in the primary,” her grandmother said. “I doubt Gavin will have much of a chance at winning. My Lord, he doesn’t stand for anything.”