Again she was discomfited. “Yes—fine, I mean.”
“Don’t let me keep you,” he said as he turned toward his computer screen.
“Keep?”
“Your coffee,” he reminded her.
“I don’t know what you take in yours,” she queried.
“A touch of sugar. But you don’t have to bring me coffee. I hired you for your brains, not to be my personal assistant.”
“I’m going to get more coffee anyway,” she replied, “and I never mind bringing back an extra. It’s not as though I’m stepping and fetching.”
After she left, Morgan ran one hand over his disheveled hair. He could imagine what she’d thought of his rumpled appearance. She, on the other hand, looked perfectly polished, dressed in a deceptively simple dress that he was certain cost more than most administrative employees could afford. Perhaps she had done well in her divorce settlement.
Then again, she had been making good money at Traxton. Rather extraordinary that she would leave them after ten years just to get away from her ex.
Houston, a sprawling giant, could almost guarantee there would be no chance meetings. Unless her ex-husband had also worked at Traxton. Even so, she could have found work in Houston’s Energy Corridor or downtown. Something more had sent her scuttling all the way to Rosewood.
Must have been some divorce. Even though she hadn’t divulged the details, it had clearly been a bad experience. A flash of familiar pain traced through his gut. He couldn’t understand how anyone could throw away a marriage. What he would give to have his late wife back...
Tessa’s footsteps were light on the pine floor, then virtually noiseless on the thick woven silk rug that padded the room. The decor hadn’t changed much since his father’s day, even his grandfather’s day. A massive mahogany desk dominated the space. And his leather chair was worn in just the way Morgan liked it.
A wall of built-in bookcases held everything from a dictionary to volumes of law regarding royalty rights for the oil. Most people didn’t know it was the transportation company that calculated and paid landowners their portion of the oil revenue. Harper had an entire department devoted to that duty.
“Dorothy said I should use china cups,” Tessa told him as she carefully set his coffee on the desk.
“My mother insisted on using the good dishes every day. Said if they were appropriate for company, they were appropriate for us, too.”
Tessa chuckled. “I’m afraid I’d have a collection of chips, cracks and pieces if I followed that policy.”
“We do. Every now and then we have to buy replacements. Dorothy keeps up with them.” Morgan mentally dismissed the less than stimulating subject, refocusing on work. “All of the state reports are up-to-date—barely. It’s the third week of the month and they’ll be due on the first.”
Tessa nodded, transitioning smoothly between the unrelated subjects. “Is the computer on my desk networked with yours?”
“Yes. I’ve written down your password. It’s in the top middle drawer. Familiarize yourself with the setup, then we can go over questions.”
“And the report you want me to study?”
“Front and center on top of your desk.”
“All right, then.”
* * *
Work had never intimidated her. But she had taken her advancements one rung at a time, building on what she learned in each position. She’d never vaulted to the top man’s office in one giant leap. But this wasn’t the time to become faint of heart.
Near the end of her first week, Tessa found the work challenging but she was learning everything she could about Harper. The morning disappeared one computer screen after another. Tessa didn’t realize it was lunchtime until a small hand tugged persistently on her sleeve. Poppy waited to be recognized.
Tessa smiled at the child’s serious expression. “Well, hello.” She noticed a stuffed dog in the child’s hand, remembering she had seen it on her first day. “And who’s this?”
“Freckles,” Poppy replied seriously. “He’s my best friend.”
If true, that was terribly sad. “He looks like a fine friend.”
“Dorothy says it’s time for lunch.”
Automatically, Tessa lifted her wrist, glancing at her watch. “So it is. Have you told your dad?”
“Daddy’s not here.”
Hiding her frown, Tessa wondered why he hadn’t let her know he was going out. Fielding phone calls would be more effective if she knew when he wasn’t available. A second frown settled between her eyebrows. The phone hadn’t rung all morning. Leaning forward, she checked the digital readout, which said all calls had been forwarded to the main office for the day. Morgan Harper was proving to be a difficult study. Evidently he felt he’d taken care of what was necessary. Accustomed to being her boss’s right hand, it was unsettling to see how self-sufficient this particular boss was.
“Are you coming?” Poppy questioned.
Sensing a touch of uncertainty in the child, Tessa grinned widely. “Can’t keep me away. Do you know what we’re having?”
“Fried catfish and chocolate pudding.”
“That’s quite a combination,” Tessa managed to reply without giving away her amusement. “What’s your favorite part?”
“Pudding,” Poppy replied without hesitation.
“Mine probably will be, too,” Tessa confided.
The kitchen was homey, warm, filled with the quiet current of voices. Dorothy and Alvin stood by the sink, shoulders leaned in, touching. Just a simple gesture, but it told of a deep connection.
“Can I do anything to help?” Tessa offered.
Dorothy turned her head. “Everything’s already done. It’s nothing fancy, not like what you’re used to in the city.”
Tessa laughed without mirth. “I practically live on coffee when I’m working, so you’re right, this isn’t what I’m used to.” She sniffed the enticing aroma of freshly cooked fish, but she still couldn’t work up an appetite.
Four place settings were on the table. Dorothy inclined her head in their direction. “When we eat in the kitchen we keep it casual.”
Tessa interpreted that to mean when Morgan didn’t join them. She wondered if he ever got lonely eating on his own. Silly thought, she chastised herself. Men who ran entire companies didn’t lack for company.
Fresh iced tea filled the glasses and a large bowl of crisp salad sat beside the platter of fish. Local catfish, Alvin had informed her.
“Store-bought rolls,” Dorothy muttered. “Means I’m getting old. Never used to buy them, always made my own.”
“I like bakeries,” Tessa confessed. She used to love buying pastries on weekend mornings to share with Karl. Seemed ridiculous that she had believed all was fine in those days.
Alvin dried his hands. “Dorothy makes the best bread in the county. Won the blue ribbon for that and her cinnamon rolls five years straight at the county fair. But the town bakery’s okay. They bake fresh every day.”
Dorothy looked a tad embarrassed at the praise. “Poppy likes their cookies. They make all kinds of fancy cartoon shapes.”
“But Dorothy’s taste goodest,” Poppy declared. “And she lets me help.”
“You’re probably the best part,” Tessa told her as they shared a smile.
The