Mary Wilson - Winning Sara's Heart

Mary must have sensed Sara’s presence, because her eyes opened, then she held a finger to her lips. She got to her feet and smoothed her navy dress. “Nap time,” she whispered, crossing to Sara and smiling. “We don’t want to shorten it in any way. Hayley just wore herself out, but she had a good time, I think.”

Sara looked at her daughter, a tiny child for three, with blond hair, slightly flushed cheeks and dressed in pink overalls. “I bet she did.”

Mary glanced at a helper Sara had met before, a sixteen-year-old girl, who wore black jeans and a black top with Whatever splashed in gold across the front. Even her hair was black and caught in two pigtails. She was helping at the center during her summer break from school, and was a daughter of one of LynTech’s executives. “Mallory, keep an eye on things?” Mary asked in a hushed voice. The girl nodded and sat down where Mary had been.

“Come on into the office where we can talk,” Mary whispered, then turned and led the way to the back of the room and down a short hallway. “We can talk in here,” Mary said as she closed the door to Lindsey Holden’s office and crossed to a desk that was over-flowing with papers.

She sat down and motioned for Sara to do the same. “What a mess,” she said, looking at the papers that littered the desk. “This charity ball is nothing but work,” she said.

“It sounds very grand,” Sara said. She’d heard all about the fund-raising event sponsored by the center through LynTech, to benefit the new pediatric wing at the hospital and the center itself. “And it should bring in a lot of money.”

“Hopefully,” Mary said with a sigh. “It’s growing to gigantic proportions, though. The mayor will be there, a senator might show up. EJS Corporation offered the use of an estate on the outskirts of the city, and get this, the main house has an actual ballroom in it. We got very lucky and Marigold Events is donating their party-planning services for it. It’s the premier party-planning company anywhere, from what I’ve heard, and Marigold Stewart herself is heading the staff.”

“Marigold?”

“That’s her real name, from what I can find out.” She sat forward. “The reason I’m telling you all this is because we’ve been thinking that you could really be of use to all of us if you’d be a liaison of sorts between Marigold and the center.”

“I thought I was going to be working here.”

“Oh, you will be. All that means is, Marigold will contact you instead of me or Mrs. Holden, or Mrs. Gallagher, the other LynTech CEO’s wife who also works at the Center. You might have to make a few trips out to the Sommers estate, maybe check out a few things, but other than that, you can do everything from here until the actual ball.” She motioned to the office they were in. “Everyone uses this room, so you can, too.”

She’d never planned more than Hayley’s birthday parties, but she’d give it a shot. “Okay, just tell me what to do.”

Mary pushed a stack of papers toward her. “Start here, and if you have any questions, holler.”

Sara looked at the papers and saw floor plans and lists of everything from donations to attendees. The mayor was right at the top of it, and under it was E. J. Sommers. “This E. J. Sommers owns this place?”

“He sure does. And he’ll be there. We have a promise of his appearance.”

“He’s important?” she asked.

“Important? Oh, I forgot, you’re not from Texas. The man’s a legend, dragged himself up by his bootstraps and made tons of money on some oil thing. He apparently does things his way and has fun doing it…with any number of women.”

“Let’s hope he’s not married,” Sara muttered as bitterness rose in her throat.

“Oh, no, he’s not married. He’s been tied to Heather McCain, the daughter of a big political family in the state, for a while. You know the type, tall, pretty, rich? Maybe she’ll bid on him at the ball.”

“Bid on him?”

Mary leaned forward and tugged a sheet out of the stack. “A bachelor auction.” She tapped the paper with her fingertip. “You know, pay for spending the evening with an eligible man? He’s agreed to do it, and we’re hoping he brings in a lot of money.”

Sara picked up the paper and saw a minimum bid of two thousand dollars next to the man’s name. “Well, I hope he’s worth whatever he brings in,” she said.

“From what I’ve heard, he is,” Mary said with a grin.

“I HOPE THIS IS WORTH IT,” Zane Holden, one of the two CEOs at LynTech, said as he sat forward and eyed E. J. on the far side of the huge conference table. “After all this work, it had better be everything Jack and Matt think it can be. We’re here on good faith, all of us, and I hope that’s the way you feel.”

E. J. sat very still, waiting, knowing that whatever he said probably wouldn’t fully satisfy Zane Holden. His mind was blurring from long hours of discussions that seemed to be going in circles. Between Ray’s surprises and the hardball negotiations in this room, he was tired, but now he was back in the fray and in it for the duration. He had never been a patient man and he wanted this deal nailed down today or tomorrow.

Finally he said, “Of course, that’s a given. We’re all here on good faith.”

Jackson Ford, sitting by Zane, had seemed vaguely distracted today, but even so, when he spoke, he hit the mark. “Okay,” he said, his dark eyes narrowing as he ran his fingers through his deep-brown hair. “Let’s just agree that we all want what’s best and that we want this settled as quickly as possible. The figures are there. The rules haven’t changed.” He looked right at E. J. “The ball’s in your court, so what are you going to do?”

Martin shifted in his seat next to E. J., but didn’t say a thing. He wouldn’t until he was asked to, even though E. J. knew he was itching to get in the middle of the fray. “I need a break,” he said, and stood.

“Good idea,” Zane said, and stood, too. The others started to get to their feet, and Rita, a woman who seemed to be the right arm to more than one of the executives at LynTech, closed her notebook and said, “Drinks are over there,” motioning to a built-in bar by the windows.

As she turned to speak to Zane, E. J. saw Martin head for the bar and pour himself a drink. E. J. flexed his shoulders, then left his paperwork on the polished conference table. He saw Ford say something quietly to Zane before he ducked out, then Robert Lewis, a spry-looking man, probably in his sixties, in a neat navy suit that was in direct contrast to his almost white hair, came around the table to where E.J was standing. Lewis, the founder of LynTech, was there as an adviser.

“I’m pleased that you showed up here today in person, instead of sending a hired hand.” He glanced at Martin, who was by the bar talking to one of Lyn-Tech’s accountants. “No offense to anyone, but it’s always better to do business directly, rather than going through too many people.”

E. J. looked back at Robert. “I’m glad you’re here, too. You had the original vision for this company and I like the way you did business, being up front about everything.”

Robert nodded. “In that vein, I’m interested in why you’re selling off a piece of your company.”

Damn, he liked this guy. No games, no oblique comments. Too bad Ray wasn’t as straightforward. “I’m doing it because I want to, sir. My life’s too complicated and this will simplify it.”

“An excellent reason,” he murmured.

E. J. inclined his head slightly. “I thought so.” He glanced around, then said, “I need to stretch my legs. I’ll be back in…” He looked at his watch. “Half an hour.”

Robert said, “Make it an hour. We all need a break.”

E. J. nodded, then turned to find Martin next to him again. “We’ve got an hour.”

“Good, we can go over—”

“No, I should have said, I have an hour. I need to get some fresh air and think.”

“But, if you—”

“Martin, relax. I’ll be back. Give me at least half an hour, then we’ll talk before this gets back in gear.”

Someone came up behind him and touched his shoulder. He turned to find a woman he hadn’t seen before. She was a very delicate-looking blonde, very pregnant and pale, but her smile was radiant. “Mr. Sommers. I’m Lindsey Holden. Zane’s wife?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I’m going home now, but I wanted to thank you so much for offering your estate for our ball. It was beyond generous, and it’s greatly appreciated.”

He felt a bit embarrassed by her effusive thanks. “No problem,” he said, a real lie, but he wasn’t going to tell her about Ray’s manipulations. “I hope the event raises a lot of money.”

“I’m sure it will,” she said. “I heard you say you were going to take a break, and I was thinking, since you have a few minutes, why don’t you go down to the center on the main floor and just take a look at it? The party planner is due in this morning, and you could talk to her or to Mary Garner.”

That was the last thing he wanted to do, but he didn’t have the heart to say that to her. “Maybe, if I have time.”

She gave him a weak smile. “Good, good.”

Zane was there, putting an arm around his wife. “She’ll talk your ear off about the center,” he said with an indulgent smile. “But now she needs to get home and rest.”

He nodded to E. J., then with his arm around his wife, Zane took Lindsey out of the conference room. Before anyone else could grab his attention, E. J. left, leaving his jacket in the room. He went out into the hallway, glanced in both directions, then started for the elevators. Once inside the car, he rode down to the main floor and intended to go directly outside and walk for a while.

But when the door opened, he saw a group of children coming into the building, maybe fifteen of them, chattering and laughing, with two women riding herd on them. He hesitated, then turned to his right, heading for a hallway that he hoped led to a rear exit and away from the kids. Despite what he’d told Lindsey Holden, he had no intention of being around kids during this break.

He found a back door marked Parking Garage, pushed it back and felt it hit something with a solid thud. He heard a gasp, the sound of things dropping, then he eased the door back cautiously. This time it swung open freely, and he was looking out at a girl in jeans and a pink T-shirt, going down on her knees on the cement floor. Blond hair fell around her shoulders, hiding her face, and pieces of colored paper, crumpled and stained with paint, seemed to be everywhere, spilling out of a torn green trash bag.

He hurried toward her, reached for her upper arm and tried to help her back to her feet. “Sorry. I didn’t know anyone was out here.”

Then she was on her feet, turning, pushing pale blond hair off her face with her free hand, and her aquamarine eyes met his as her husky voice uttered, “You?”

The moment seemed to freeze in time. Him. The stranger from the restaurant. Holding her by the arm, not more than two feet away, staring at her with as much surprise in his hazel eyes as she knew was in hers. “You?” she repeated, suddenly focused on his hold on her arm. She turned, easing out of the contact, and as he drew his hand back, she could have sworn there was the shadow of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Me,” he drawled.

She’d thought about seeing him again, but it had always been a meeting in the restaurant, him coming in, her walking over and very politely apologizing to him, then telling him his key was in the tip jar. That was as far as her imagination had taken her. She’d never thought he’d knock her down with a door, or that she’d be staring at him, tongue-tied. Nervous, she crouched and began to pick up the papers, trying to stuff them back into the ruined plastic sack, but they came out the torn side as quickly as she pushed them into the bag.