Lazy Days

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Lazy Days Page 58

by Clay, Verna


  "I love you, too, Julie."

  For the next half hour the bride and groom and family members greeted guests. Ann was exchanging pleasantries with Sally Higginbotham, a vocalist in the wedding, when she heard a familiar voice that shifted her heartbeat into triple rhythm. She wanted to look in the direction of the voice, but kept her gaze riveted on Mrs. Higginbotham's red lipstick teeth. She smoothed a hand down her pale green chiffon-over-satin, form fitting dress, with satin bolero jacket, and hoped it didn't make her look too matronly. Sarah and Julie had assured her the color contrasted beautifully with her olive complexion and set off her hazel eyes. She hoped so.

  Jackson Martinez continued speaking, "Julie and Jacob. You're a fine looking couple. After you're back from your honeymoon and settled in, I'd like to invite you to the Triple T for dinner."

  Jacob responded, "We'd like that Jackson. By the way, congratulations are in order for you, too, now that you own the Triple T."

  "Thanks. Tommy always said he'd give me first dibs if he ever put it up for sale, and when he did, I didn't have to think twice."

  Mrs. Higginbotham moved on and Ann chanced a glance upward at Jackson. He was looking at her with a little smile. Her face flooded with color. He continued talking to Jacob while still looking at her. "I'll check back in about a month. Give you time to get settled. I'd like you to come too, Annie, if you're still in town."

  Ann smiled and nodded; afraid her voice would sound breathless if she spoke.

  "Sounds good," said Jacob.

  "It's a date," Julie agreed.

  Jackson leaned over and kissed Julie's cheek. "You done good, baby girl."

  "Thanks, Jackson."

  The tall cowboy stepped in front of Ann. "Hello, Annie," he said, low and deep.

  "Hello, Jackson. Thank you for coming to the wedding." Stupid thing to say, and damn, you do sound breathless.

  His little smile turned into a grin. "I wouldn't have missed it." For a second he just looked at her. "Hey, I like your hair that darker color."

  Self consciously, Ann lifted a hand to a soft curl on her shoulder. "Thank you."

  "Hello, my name is Pritzy Purvis." A beautiful young blond stepped up beside Jackson and possessively snuggled her hand under his elbow, interrupting the moment. She stuck her other hand out toward Ann."

  Ann accepted the woman's gesture. "I'm happy to meet you Pritzy."

  Pritzy said, "How does it feel being the mother of a grown man who has just gotten married?"

  "It feels wonderful. And now I have a grown daughter, too."

  There was an uneasy silence and then Jackson said, "Well, I guess we'll see you at the reception."

  Pritzy gave her a sugar-coated smile and then looked up at Jackson, turning it into a sexy one. They moved on and the pastor's plus-sized wife stepped into their position squeezing Ann in a bear hug that swallowed her in folds of taffeta.

  Stranded in Oasis (excerpt)

  Oasis Series (coming January 2014)

  Chapter One: Reassignment

  Veering off the U.S. 93 onto the off-ramp, Maximilian Rutherford III, ground his teeth and slammed his three quarters-of-a-million dollar RV to a halt at a stop sign with graffiti declaring, "hot as hell," and then turned onto a narrow, two lane road with dips that even an outrageously expensive RV couldn't disguise.

  The next sign he passed said, "Oasis 12 miles." Staring at distant bluffs encasing flat desert of scrub brush, a scattering of mesquite trees, and plenty of cacti, he once again spewed a string of profanities at his grandfather.

  Up until a week ago he'd considered his relationship with his paternal grandfather, Maximilian Rutherford I—someone he saw only during management meetings because of the old man's penchant for privacy—to be satisfactory.

  He'd always called his grandfather by his shortened first name—Max. The old gentleman had never been "Grandpa" or "Gramps" to any of his grandchildren, but that was to be expected from one who ran the multi-faceted, multi-billion dollar Rutherford Acquisitions empire. There simply was no time for family get-togethers when you were globetrotting and looking for your next company to buy, overhaul, and sale to the highest bidder.

  Max III, who was supposed to be a chip off the old "grandfather block," scanned the terrain before him. Being the second of June, the weather wasn't outrageously hot…yet. He hated hot weather. Grinding his jaw again, he replayed the unfortunate circumstances that had landed him in the pits of hell in the Arizona desert. Oasis, my ass.

  Ten days ago he had been happily—well, maybe not happily, but studiously—performing his job as the interim CEO of their latest acquisition, a company that developed and made computer chips. His job duties with Rutherford Acquisitions involved taking charge and reorganizing the acquired company for the purpose of making it attractive to buyers. It usually took one to two years before the failing corporation made enough of a turnaround to sell for a profit, and that was one reason his grandfather's latest order was so confusing.

  He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. Damn the old man! Max had flown all night from the West Coast to the East Coast and the headquarters of his grandfather's vast empire in Manhattan after he'd been summoned. His grandfather's call had come during the first meeting of a week of meetings that had been scheduled with IT moguls—men who were key to launching this latest acquisition back into the marketplace. It had taken Max weeks to set the meetings up and when he'd tried to explain that to his grandfather, the old man had just blown it off and insisted he reschedule because his presence was mandatory in New York.

  The minute Max had entered the office of Maximilian Rutherford I, he'd known his grandfather was up to something. Respectfully, he'd greeted his elder, accepted a shot of bourbon, and declined a cigar. While the old guy puffed away and talked about his latest success in the stock market, Max waited to hear what his gut feeling told him he wasn't going to like.

  He didn’t have to wait long.

  Max, Sr. set his cigar in his crystal ashtray, sipped his bourbon, leaned forward, and said, "I'm reassigning you."

  Frowning, Max had also leaned forward. "But sir, I'm about to close a deal that will skyrocket the value of the company in California."

  The old man made a dismissive motion with his hand. "Your stepbrother can handle it. I've already reassigned him to the project."

  Max shot halfway out of his seat. "What! Without even consulting me!"

  Unfazed by his grandson's shout, Max, Sr. said in his most commanding voice, "Sit down, Max."

  Max could feel his blood pressure rising as he sat back in his chair.

  Max, Sr. stood and walked to the bank of windows overlooking Manhattan sixty-three stories below. Without explanation, he said, "As tough and mean as I am, I'll not live forever. I've been reviewing my will with my attorney and before I make final decisions as to the disposition of my company and assets after my demise, I need to know the tenacity of my heirs."

  Those words gave Max pause. Was the old man dying of some disease?

  Max, Sr. turned from the windows and answered his grandson's unspoken question. "No. I don't have any dreaded ailment as far as I know. But I do have a driving ambition to know what my heirs are made of. My only child, God rest his soul, wasn't cut from the same cloth as you or I. He was a tree hugger who would have driven this company into bankruptcy had he lived and inherited my estate. He wanted to support every whiney cause that crossed his desk."

  Max, Sr. seemed lost in his memories and Max's wrath softened. The old man continued, "It was one of those causes that took his life. He drowned fording a river in the Amazon forest while heading up an expedition to save some rare bird." He shook his head.

  Max had heard the story a million times, but he didn't interrupt his grandfather. As much as the old man bitched about his son's "do-gooder" ways, it was obvious he'd loved his boy. Max waited for his own fate to be revealed. He wasn't like his father. He was tough as nails, so the reason for being pulled from his latest assignment, when he was so close to
success, irked and puzzled him.

  Max, Sr. turned back to the bank of windows. After a moment of silence, he said, "Don't take your next assignment lightly. It will determine whether I hand the reins of my company over to you after I'm gone, or give it to your step-brother, Bertram."

  At the mention of Bertram, Max's anger renewed itself. Two years older than Max, the man was an ass-and-a-half. Bertie could play the part of a loving grandson when in the presence of Max, Sr., but he was a thorn to Max. Max rued the day his mother had remarried to an oil magnate four years after Max II died. Bertie's father had later lost his wealth due to wrong decisions and died of a heart attack when Max was fifteen.

  Max, Sr. spoke again and his words sent an arrow of foreboding down Max's spine. "I'm sending you to Arizona for six months."

  "What the hell is in Arizona?"

  Max, Sr. turned from the window and studied his grandson. Quietly, he said, "The keys to your fate, boy."

  Max squinted and waited. He supposed he could deal with six months in Phoenix. He wondered what acquisition his grandfather had purchased there.

  His grandfather's next words shattered his vision of working from a high rise in the capital city.

  Max, Sr. walked back to his desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a paper. He handed it across the desk and Max reached for it. His grandfather said, "This is where you'll be staying in the town of Oasis, about fifty miles northwest of Phoenix."

  Max's frown increased as he accepted the page that had been printed off a website with the internet address of desertprincess.com. He furrowed his brow and read the page. Was this some kind of a joke? It was an advertisement for a trailer park.

  Spend your winters at Desert Princess Trailer and RV Park in beautiful Oasis, Arizona.

  Max lifted confused eyes to his grandfather's. "What are you telling me?" he asked.

  "I'm telling you that you're going to manage that trailer park for six months and it will decide your future with my company."

  Max, who oversaw billion dollar investments and hobnobbed with the most influential personalities in the world, couldn't wrap his mind around his grandfather's instructions. He simply looked from the printout with a picture of an assortment of trailers and RVs parked in rows amidst desert sand dotted with cacti, a few scraggly trees and scrub brush, back to his grandfather. The old man reached to push a button on his intercom. "Peggy, when's my next appointment and who is it with?"

  Peggy, Max's secretary since the creation of man, who looked to be that old, said in her no-nonsense voice, "You have a three-thirty with the governor of South Carolina."

  Max, Sr. stood. "Son, it's nice seeing you, but I've got some research to catch up on before meeting with the governor. He's looking for assistance with their transportation issues and I may have just the company to fit the bill."

  Max, Jr. couldn't make his legs move. Softly, he said, "Sir, you're joking, right? You're not really sending me to oversee a trailer park?" He even managed a chuckle.

  His grandfather, looking completely serious, replied, "What part of 'head off to Arizona' don't you understand?"

  Novels and Novellas by Verna Clay

  WESTERN ROMANCE

  Contemporary

  Romance on the Ranch Series

  Dream Kisses

  Honey Kisses

  Baby Kisses

  Candy Kisses

  Christmas Kisses

  Coming 2014!

  Oasis Series

  Stranded in Oasis (January 2014)

  Branded in Oasis (May 2014)

  Landed in Oasis (August 2014)

  Historic

  Unconventional Series

  Abby: Mail Order Bride

  Broken Angel

  Ryder's Salvation

  Finding Home Series

  Cry of the West: Hallie

  Rescue on the Rio: Lilah

  Missouri Challenge: Daisy

  FANTASY ROMANCE

  Shapeling Trilogy

  Roth: Book One: Protector

  Fawn: Book Two: Master

  Davide: Book Three: Prince

  11:11: Countdown to 2012

  The Theory of Everything

 

 

 


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