The teakwood theme he had personally chosen for the executive floor continued in here, though the sofa and chairs were caramel leather instead of fabric.
Linc stripped off the black suit coat he had worn to Miguel Hernandez’s funeral, draped it over the valet along the wall, sat down behind hisdesk, and went to work. He had a four o’clock conference call with the mayor of Ruidoso regarding a road construction project in New Mexico on Highway 48 north of the city. The job was just getting started. He didn’t want any glitches so he needed to be prepared.
He picked up the file Millie had set on his desk, but instead of flipping it open, his mind went back to his graveside encounter with Carly Drake. He hit the intercom button.
“Millie, I need you to set up a meeting with Carly Drake at Drake Trucking. Tomorrow would be best. Whatever time works in my schedule, but the sooner the better.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Millie said.
Linc turned back to the file, but his thoughts strayed again to the pretty little blue-eyed blonde, Joe Drake’s granddaughter. She wasn’t a slender woman, not overly buxom, either. She had more than enough curves to look feminine, but there was something solid about her that gave the impression of strength.
He remembered the first heart attack Joe had suffered. Linc had gone to the hospital to see him, been surprised at how frail the tough old man had looked. Lying in that hospital bed, Joe had stared at his mortality and faced it head on, the way he did everything else.
He had asked Linc a favor that day, as he had never done before, asked that if something happened to him, Linc would look after his granddaughter, make sure Carly was okay.
Joe didn’t give his trust lightly and Linc didn’t make promises he didn’t intend to keep. The day Joe had died, Carly Drake had become his responsibility.
He owed Joe Drake more than he could ever repay. This last small favor was the least he could do.
Chapter Two
Carly sat behind the metal desk in Grandpa Joe’s office, a plain twelve-by-fourteen-foot room off an open area out front where the scheduling, record-keeping, and customer service took place.
Attached to the building in a big metal warehouse, there was a truck service department that held replacement and repair parts: tires, batteries, oil, fluids, and anything else a big eighteen-wheeler might need, as well as a maintenance bay where the mechanics did the actual work on the rigs. A huge asphalt yard, surrounded by a chain-link fence, faced the road out in front.
Carly studied the computer screen on her desk, going over account records, scrolling down one column after another, trying to find enough money to pay the employees their two-week checks.
When she’d arrived in Texas, she’d had no idea the terrible financial straits Drake Trucking was in. Joe had been a successful businessman all his life. He’d run the company with a firm hand and an eye on every dollar.
But apparently his bad health had taken its toll. He’d been so busy with doctor visits and trips in and out of the hospital that the businesshad gone downhill. And though he had been on Medicare, there were still outstanding medical bills that had to be paid.
Having only been in Texas a week when Joe died, Carly hadn’t had nearly enough time to figure out what was going on and start trying to solve the problem. Not enough time to save Drake Trucking or her grandfather.
A familiar deep pang reminded her of the loss of the man who had raised her. She should have come back sooner. If she had been there, she could have relieved some of Joe’s stress. She could have made sure he was taking his meds, that he kept his medical appointments. Maybe he would have lived a few more years.
Carly shoved the guilt away. She didn’t have time for that now. She had responsibilities, people to worry about, a company to run.
Late in the afternoon, by holding off on some of the utility bills, some of the suppliers’ invoices, a bill from Joe’s attorney, Willard Speers, for settling Joe’s estate, and a lot of miscellaneous debts she didn’t yet understand, she managed to round up enough to make payroll and had all the checks written.
Tomorrow she would get on the phone and start making cold calls, see if she could stir up some business. She’d do whatever it took to make the company profitable again.
She had failed her grandfather before.
No matter how hard she had to work, Carly wasn’t going to fail him again.
A quick knock sounded and the door swung open. It was Donna Melendez, a Latina who had been Joe’s office manager for years. Donna was in her fifties, with long black hair turning silver and the kind of work ethic money alone couldn’t buy.
“I just got a call from Texas American. Lincoln Cain’s secretary wants to make an appointment.”
Carly thought of their meeting at the cemetery. Cain’s tall, broad-shouldered build and amazing face popped into her head, and a trickle of warmth spread through her.
Recognizing that warmth as attraction, she firmly tamped it down.She wasn’t interested in Cain or any other man. At least not now or anytime in the near future. “I saw him at the funeral. He said he wanted to talk to me.”
“Well, he certainly didn’t waste any time.”
“He didn’t look like a man who wastes time.”
Donna chuckled. “I put him down for twoP.M.I told his secretary I’d call her back if that was a problem.”
