by Francis Ray
She smiled and sat up straighter, making her full breasts jut forward. Dillon was thankful he was sitting. His brain was definitely having a difficult time not thinking of Sam beneath him, hot and hungry for him. “There’s modification and specifications to be considered.”
“Then teach me,” she told him. “I want to be an asset, not a liability. My father gave his life for this company. I won’t let it fail without a fight.” Her voice trembled with earnest emotions, but no tears fell.
Dillon had to clench his hands to keep from taking her in his arms. He stood and gave her a tissue. “The first thing you have to learn is no tears.”
She balled the tissue in her hand. “Because it shows weakness?”
“Maybe in some people, but it just shows you have a soft heart.” He stared at her and watched surprise round her eyes. “Once your opponent knows that, you’ll be at his mercy. If you feel emotions getting the best of you, excuse yourself or think of a person you detest and tell them to back off.”
“You never let anyone walk over you, did you?”
“No.” He usually didn’t like to remember those days when some kid wanted to get in his face because his mother was single or later because of his rep as a hell-raising badass.
“It must be nice being that strong, yet you listen to and respect your mother.”
“She went through a lot for me,” he said quietly.
“And you probably still give her a hard time,” Samantha said, smiling.
White teeth flashed in his gorgeous face. Samantha almost sighed. She was flirting with hell’s fire again. “It keeps her young.”
They sat smiling at each other. It was Dillon who broke the contact first. “We need those accounts back.”
Samantha picked up a sheet on her desk and walked over to his. She could get used to this easy rapport, even the sparks of lust. “I was going to ask you first, but I thought I should call them and kind of feel them out about why they left Collins.”
Dillon took the list. “I’ll call.”
She reached for the list, inadvertently brushing her breast against his shoulder. She jumped back, her eyes huge.
Dillon cleared his throat and rolled his shoulder when he wanted to take Sam in his arms and kiss her until they both forgot to breathe and go from there. “I—I’ll make the call. If they ask you anything beyond the basics, you won’t know the answer. Plus, I’m not bragging, but if they’ve heard of my reputation as an expert on high-performance cars and my work with the vintage car racing circuit, it might help us get through.”
Sam reached for the phone on his desk, dialed, and handed him the receiver. “You’re on.”
Dillon took the phone, glad to see that his hand trembled only the tiniest bit. Sam got to him as no other woman ever had. “Frank Thomas, please. Dillon Montgomery with Collins Industry and Vintage Racing calling.…
“I understand,” he said moments later. “Please have him call me at 955-555-7777 at his earliest convenience. I have some exciting news to share with him. Thank you. Good-bye.” Hanging up, he said to a hovering Sam, “He’s out of town on a business trip, but his secretary said she’d relay the message.”
“When and if he calls, make lunch or dinner reservations. Somewhere reservations are difficult to obtain so he’ll be impressed and more inclined to come,” she suggested. “If he’s married, invite his wife.”
He lifted a brow. She straightened up from leaning against his desk. “I interviewed the president of an oil company in Houston who said social settings were the best place to learn about a person and get them to relax.”
“Your uncle must have read the article,” he said drolly.
She stiffened.
“If one tear falls, you’re not going on the business meeting with me.” His eyes narrowed.
Samantha was so stunned that he was allowing her to go on the business meeting, she blinked. “You’re taking me?”
“You’re my partner, aren’t you?”
Nodding, Samantha relaxed. If she was offended every time Dillon said something about her and her uncle, she’d be little else. She had another way to get back at him. “Grandfather’s funds haven’t been released yet, but I was thinking the Mansion on Turtle Creek would be the perfect place to have dinner. Your treat, of course. I’m sure you have connections to make it happen.”
“You think I can’t?”
She nudged the phone closer to him. “Can you?”
A challenge. He liked this Sam a lot better than the one who teared up at the drop of a hat. Dillon pulled his phone from the holder at his waist, activated it, and punched in a number. “Hey, Carson. I need reservations for four Friday night and Saturday night at seven at the Mansion. I’ll wait for your call.”
He grinned at her astonished face. “Some of my friends like their privacy. It’s nothing to buy out an upscale restaurant—the Mansion included—for the night.” He waited for her to be suitably impressed.
“But we can’t hold up reservations for both nights. It might be someone’s anniversary or something.”
Only Sam. “What did I tell you about your soft heart?” he asked. It was a wonder the world hadn’t left footprints on her back. He relented when he saw she was still worried.
“If Thomas calls back by noon tomorrow, we’ll give him his choice. If he doesn’t, I’m sure Mama wouldn’t mind not cooking Friday night. Roman can come to round out the fourth person. We’ll release Saturday. Anything else?”
“Yes, call your mother and let her know about dinner tomorrow night.” Sam went to her desk and took a seat.
It seemed Sam was a quick learner. He might regret teaching her anything, but he was smiling when he called his mother.
* * *
Marlene had denied Dillon few things in his life. She’d done without so he wouldn’t have to. She’d used reason when people said she should have used a belt or the back of her hand. She was considering denying him now.
“Roman and Sam are coming over for dinner tomorrow night,” Dillon said on the phone. “Nothing fancy. Around six, all right?”
Having a son who thought there wasn’t anything you couldn’t accomplish had its drawbacks at times. But it wasn’t so much the cooking as who one of the guests would be.
Roman Santiago. He disturbed her in ways she didn’t want to think about.
“Mama?”
“It’s fine, Dillon. You know your friends are always welcome, and if it will help you with Collins, so much the better. Six will be fine,” she said with more cheeriness than she felt.
“Everything all right at the garage?”
“Business couldn’t be better.” One thing Roman wouldn’t do was cause Dillon to worry about her. He’d had to do too much of that in his life. “All the bays are full and we have cars waiting.”
“Wish Collins was doing as well,” he said.
“You and Samantha will figure things out and have the company back in the black in time,” she told him. She had every confidence in her son.
“Roman is going to help make that happen.”
She could have done without that reference. “You sound very confident in him.”
“That’s because he used to work for Carson’s father.”
Carson Rowland had been Dillon’s freshman roommate in college. They’d roomed together every year afterward. Carson came from a very wealthy background. His father had two cars in the vintage racing circuit with a combined value of well over a million dollars. Carson and his close-knit family had been Dillon’s introduction into legitimate racing and an affluent lifestyle. They’d been as accepting of Dillon as they were of her.
“Used to?” she asked in spite of herself. She shouldn’t want to know anything about the man.
“He quit for personal reasons, but I happen to know that Carson’s father would hire Roman back at his seven-figure salary in a heartbeat,” Dillon said. “Keeping track of the money is key to growth and solvency.”
Marlene wanted to push for answers
in spite of herself. Had he been ill? “Yes, it is.”
“My cell is ringing. Bye, Mama.”
“Bye.” Marlene hung up the phone, determined that Roman would not disrupt her settled life. No man with a pretty face was going to do that again.
But as long as she breathed, she’d never regret Dillon’s birth. He was the best part of her.
She’d been scared when she’d learned she was pregnant and single, but she’d never thought of not keeping her baby. By then she’d learned A. J. was married and that he’d never loved her, only used her. It had been a sobering, heart-wrenching time.
Despite the gossip, the whispers when she walked by, she’d wanted her baby. Abe had stood by her, refusing to fire her as Evan had demanded. His reason was that her pregnancy and status as an unwed mother would tarnish the company’s image, especially since she was secretary to the president. She thought it had more to do with her rebuffing Evan’s advances.
Abe had ordered Evan from his office. She was staying and he didn’t want to hear another word.
Alone in the world, she’d been grateful for Abe’s support. He blamed himself for her situation. A. J. Reed had been a business associate of Abe’s. It was Abe who learned of the relationship and told her A. J. was married. The breakup had been nasty. Without Abe’s support, she wasn’t sure how she would have faced the world. Then Dillon was born, and once she’d held him in her arms, she’d vowed to be the best mother possible.
Dillon eased the loneliness, made getting up each morning a joy. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for him. That included dealing with a seducer like Roman.
No man was ever going to use her again.
Seven
Dillon had barely disconnected the call from Carson letting him know his reservations were confirmed when the phone on his desk rang. “Collins Industry, Dillon Montgomery speaking. How can I help you?”
“Mr. Montgomery, this is Frank Thomas with Tasco Automotive, returning your call.”
“Thanks, Mr. Thomas, for calling me back,” Dillon greeted him, pointing to the receiver. “I realize how extremely busy you must be.”
Sam rushed over and leaned down close to the receiver, jarring his concentration. The woman didn’t know how dangerous she was to his peace of mind, and he wasn’t about to tell her.
“I must say I was surprised to learn you now work with Collins,” Mr. Thomas said. “Evan has always been the account manager.”
“Since Abe’s passing, there’s been some restructuring,” Dillon told him casually.
“I’d heard about Abe’s passing, and sent my condolences,” Frank said. “He was a shrewd man and an honest one.”
“Thank you,” Dillon said. “His granddaughter and I are working together to contact old clients. I’ll be frank. We want your business back.”
“We’re ordering from another supplier,” Frank said. “I called out of respect for Abe, and because I’ve heard of you. I’m proud to say Tasco has a turbocharger on a car in the heritage vintage racing circuit. I’ve heard your name mentioned as a genius with motors.”
Sam rolled her eyes. Dillon grinned, then said, “I’ve heard good things about Tasco as well. We’d wondered if it would be possible to meet for dinner Friday night. I took the liberty of making dinner reservations at the Mansion on Turtle Creek for seven.”
“You and Evan?” Frank asked.
Dillon couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard a bit of distaste in the man’s voice. “No, Abe’s granddaughter and myself. I made reservations for four. You’re welcome to bring an associate or anyone you wish.”
He chuckled. “If I took anyone other than my wife there, she’d have my neck. We’ve been there a few times and it’s always great.”
“Abe’s granddaughter suggested it,” Dillon put in. “We’d like the opportunity to tell you about a new intercooler we’re working on.”
“You have me intrigued. I’ll see you Friday night at seven. Good-bye.”
“Good-bye.” Dillon hung up the phone. “We’re in.”
Sam squealed and threw her arms around Dillon’s neck. “We did it!”
Dillon felt the softness of her breasts against his chest. His lower body hardened immediately. He inhaled her perfume and wanted to explore every inch of her. “Sam…” Her name came out hoarse and ragged.
* * *
Samantha stiffened immediately, then jerked upright. Her face hot, she quickly returned to her seat. She might not have that much experience, but she knew desire when she heard it.
She couldn’t even think it was her he was reacting to. With her boobs in his face, any man would have reacted the same way. She moistened her lips and tried to get her trembling hands to still. She could be mortified or push on. “Whose car are we taking to Dallas?”
Dillon snorted. “No offense, but I don’t think we’d make much of an impression if we showed up in yours.”
“It gets me where I want to go and back.” She dared look at him. “Can’t ask for more than that.”
“How about looking good going and coming?” he shot back.
He certainly looked good, but that was the appeal of sin. It looked so good, you forgot about the consequences. She picked up another file. “What do you think Roman would like for lunch?”
“If I remember, he’s not picky about food. Why?”
“He said he forgets everything when he’s working,” she said. “He doesn’t look like the brown bag type. I thought I’d pick up lunch for us.”
Dillon leaned back carelessly, but he was alert. “Define ‘us.’”
“You, me, Roman,” she said. Evan wasn’t included.
Dillon was surprised she’d included him. But then, Sam had been full of them today. “You order, and I’ll go pick it up. You helped score a meeting with Tasco.”
“It was a fluke. I just thought of the most exclusive place in Dallas,” she said with a careless shrug.
“Regardless, it worked. You did good, Sam.”
“Thank you.” She smiled back, got caught in his eyes, and had to make herself look away. Dillon was much too tempting. It wasn’t going to get any easier working with him. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a choice. He could save Collins Industry. For the first time since she’d lost her grandfather, she had hope.
* * *
Thursday was one of those nonstop days that were a blessing and a curse to businesses. There were customers waiting when Marlene arrived, and as the day lengthened, more came in to have their car serviced or repaired. Of course, all of them wanted it done immediately. Even with nine bays and some of the best mechanics in the business, that wasn’t about to happen.
Early on, she’d insisted on a comfortable lounge with a prominent NO SMOKING sign, a small playroom for children, and a TV that was tuned to the home improvement shows instead of sports or talk shows. There was also a van that could take people to work or home. Those in need of a rental were given a 20 percent discount coupon to the only rental place in town.
Having a car in the shop, whether scheduled or a breakdown, could be stressful. She’d wanted her customers to have one less worry. The multiple service awards from the city’s Better Business Bureau as well as automotive organizations showed she had succeeded.
Dillon might have started the business to teach an unscrupulous man a lesson, but it had morphed into something so much more. She was an independent businesswoman, respected in the community. Whispers and pointing fingers no longer followed her everywhere she went. She planned to keep it that way.
“Marlene, you told me to remind you when it was five fifteen.”
Marlene looked up from her desk to see Gloria Parker, her secretary and bookkeeper. She was the only other woman employed there. In her mid-sixties, she was a tall, thin woman dressed in a denim skirt and shirt, and boots. She wore her gray hair in a long ponytail. She’d taken to the computer instantly and kept scrupulous records.
“Why the frown?” Gloria asked, coming farther into Marlene’s office.
“Just thinking.” Marlene reached for her purse, annoyed that, once again, Roman had slipped into her thoughts. “Thanks for the reminder. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Don’t forget you’re going to bring me a plate for lunch.”
Marlene smiled. Gloria loved to eat and never gained a pound. Marlene had to exercise. “You’ll have it.” Going past the older woman, Marlene headed for the parking lot in front of the business. She hurried over to her Volvo SUV and started home. This was a business dinner for Dillon and Samantha. She wouldn’t allow Roman to make it anything more.
* * *
Roman could usually take or leave women. They certainly didn’t occupy his usual orderly thoughts. He respected them, was intimate with them when the mutual mood struck, then promptly forgot them and went on with his life just as they did.
Following Dillon and Samantha around the side of Marlene’s house, he wondered if seeing her would give him the same clench in the gut, the instant desire to make her his. After considerable thought, he hoped not. He had a feeling that she would change all he thought he knew about women.
“Hey, Mama, we’re here,” Dillon greeted.
Marlene turned from standing in front of a large outdoor grill. She was a striking woman wearing a floral sundress that bared her smooth shoulders and made his hands itch to touch them. Roman felt the punch twenty feet away, felt the unwanted desire clutch at him. But there was something else he hadn’t felt in years: the need to protect as much as possess.
“Good evening, Ms. Montgomery,” Samantha greeted.
“It’s Marlene, remember?” She gave Samantha a hug and stepped back. “Welcome again.”
Roman was sure his welcome wouldn’t be as friendly. “Hello, Ms. Montgomery.”
“Hello, Mr. Santiago,” Marlene greeted with an enthusiasm that surprised him. She glanced between him and Dillon. “You two must be starved. We’re having taco hamburgers.”
“My favorite.” Dillon opened the grill, then looked back at his mother. “Isn’t this too much food?”
“I told the crew I was grilling.” She lifted her delicate shoulders.
“You’re a softy, like somebody else I know,” Dillon quipped.