Starlit Secrets, page 4
Even as the thought occurred to her, she winced. It wasn’t Tyler Delacourt she wanted to bring down or embarrass. It was his father. The baby picture might be a lead, but if it turned out to be linked to Tyler, would she use it just because he and Bryce shared the same last name? She honestly didn’t know.
And for one tiny moment she wasn’t sure she liked what that said about her or this path she was heading down.
* * *
After nursing a single beer for an hour at O’Reilly’s and giving the bar owner a good deal of grief about sending Maddie on her supposed mission of mercy, Tyler eventually went home. To his surprise, the apartment felt a whole lot emptier. Had that brief visit by Maddie counteracted years of solitude here, made him yearn for the female companionship he’d lost after Jen’s death? This apartment had always been a bachelor pad, a retreat. Even before he’d met Jen, he’d rarely brought a woman here, preferring to visit his dates at their homes. This place had been his sanctuary.
So why, suddenly, was he so restless in his own world? Was it because of the woman whose lips had been warm and yielding under his? Or was it simply because of the decision he’d been alternately wrestling with and avoiding for the past few days?
* * *
He was still holding the same internal debate in the morning. Because he’d tired of it, he grabbed up the newspaper and headed down the block to a restaurant that specialized in strong coffee and greasy food. Today he needed eggs, bacon and hash browns, not gourmet bran muffins or wholewheat pancakes. Maybe once he was fortified with a hearty breakfast, he’d be able to handle a meeting with his father. Maybe he’d even produce a compromise they could both live with.
At nine o’clock the place was still bustling with its own form of bluecollar power breakfast. The waitresses were sassy, the service quick. Tyler had a steaming plate of food in front of him before he could scan the frontpage headlines. He had company before he could taste the first forkful.
“Looks dangerous,” Maddie observed, staring at the eggs swimming in butter and the strips of crisp bacon.
Tyler thought she looked a whole lot more dangerous in her snug-fitting tank top and thigh-skimming skirt. Her hair looked as if she’d done little more than run her fingers through it. The effect was rumpled and sexy and had an effect on his pulse he didn’t like one bit.
“What brings you to a place like this if you don’t like the menu?” he asked.
“The coffee,” she said at once. “It’s lethal.”
He grinned at that. “It is indeed.” His gaze strayed over her formfitting outfit. “Going job hunting?”
She returned his gaze with an innocent expression. “You disapprove?”
“Darlin’, I could never disapprove of anything that shows your assets to such advantage, but it might just be a tad underdressed for the average office.”
“Maybe I’m not looking for an office job.”
“What, then? Or should I ask? Vice squad maybe?”
She frowned at him. “You do disapprove.”
Tyler wasn’t sure why he was making such an issue of it. What Maddie wore was none of his business. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that every man’s mouth had dropped open when she’d walked in. He’d instinctively wanted to wrap her in a blanket and bundle her off to someplace out of view.
No, he corrected, what he’d really wanted to do was pummel those men until they thought twice about staring, then take her somewhere private and strip away the scanty attire she was wearing. Bad ideas, both of them. “Just a little friendly job-hunting advice,” he said mildly. “First impressions count, and this isn’t freewheeling California or trendy New York. We’re in Texas, darlin’.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
To his surprise her eyes were bright with amusement as she sipped her coffee and watched him over the rim of the cup. He deliberately turned his attention to his food.
“So, what are your plans for the day?” she asked.
“As soon as I’ve eaten, I’m going to drop by the office.”
“Really?” She did her own slow survey of his jeans and dark-blue Tshirt. “A little underdressed for the executive suite, aren’t you?”
Tyler scowled. “Okay, touché. But unlike you, I already have a job, and I’m definitely well acquainted with the boss. I doubt he’ll fire me.”
Of course, as he’d told Daniel the day before, his father might very well grumble about his lack of attention to corporate image. Maybe that was why he’d deliberately chosen these particular clothes this morning, just to goad his father into remembering who he was: Tyler, not his clotheshorse brother Michael, who had standing appointments to have his suits custom tailored.
Maddie studied him, her expression thoughtful. “But you’d like him to, wouldn’t you?”
Tyler was startled by the observation. “Like him to do what? Fire me?”
“Yes.”
“Of course not.”
“Are you sure about that?” she probed. “You never really got into what it was that had you so down, but I’m guessing from a couple of offhand remarks you made that it has something to do with work. You apparently love working on the rig, yet you’re here. What’s that all about?”
“Command performance,” he said succinctly. “I’ll be back in the Gulf of Mexico in no time.”
“Really?”
One way or another, he would be, he decided right then. This constant push-pull for power between him and his father had to stop. Now was as good a time as any to make it happen.
“Really,” he said very firmly.
“Why do I have the feeling that you just came to a decision about something?” she asked.
“Because I did,” Tyler said, shoving his plate away and tossing down his napkin. He took one last swallow of coffee, then stood. “Thanks, Maddie Kent. Order something. Breakfast’s on me.”
“Why?”
He grinned. “Just because.”
“You’re a very enigmatic man, Tyler Delacourt.”
“I certainly hope so.” In fact, he’d always been the most tight-lipped of the Delacourts, the one who displayed a lot of flash and dazzle for the world but kept his innermost thoughts to himself.
Why, then, had Maddie Kent—a woman who’d known him for only a few days—been able to read him like a book? He had a feeling he’d better figure that out soon, before she zeroed in on things he’d never shared with anyone.
In the meantime he had his father to deal with. He arrived at Delacourt Oil twenty minutes later and went straight to his father’s office.
“You sure you want to go in there?” his father’s secretary asked. “You’ve been avoiding his calls. He is not amused.”
“All the more reason to get this over with,” Tyler said. “You might want to go to the coffee shop in case there’s fallout from the explosion.”
She winked at him. “I can take it. I’ve known the man since before you were born. He doesn’t scare me.”
“Then you’re the only one.”
Tyler drew in a deep breath and opened the door. His father was on the phone. He scowled at the interruption, but when he spotted Tyler, he muttered a curt goodbye to whoever was on the other end of the line.
“Where the devil have you been?” Bryce demanded.
“Home.”
“Then why haven’t you been answering your phone or returning my calls?”
“I think that should be obvious.”
“Not to me. Explain it.”
“I didn’t want to have this conversation,” Tyler said honestly. “I didn’t want you to bulldoze right over me, the way you usually do.”
“Since when have I ever been able to get you to do a blasted thing you didn’t want to do?” his father said with a hint of exasperation. “There’s not a one of my kids who pays a bit of attention to what I want. And you’re the worst of all.”
“Aren’t you forgetting about Michael? He would walk through fire for you. He loves this company every bit as much as you do.”
His father waved off the reminder. “Where is he now? We’re in the middle of a critical negotiation.”
“He’s on his honeymoon. For once in his life, he put himself first. Surely you’re not going to fault him for that?”
His father flushed guiltily. “No, of course not. He married a fine woman.” His expression brightened ever so slightly. “And those two boys they’ve adopted, they’re something. Could have been born Delacourts.
They’ll be a part of this company someday. Michael will see to that.”
“He probably will,” Tyler agreed.
“A man works his whole life to create something to leave to his children and what happens? Mine turn right around and throw the opportunity out the door.”
Tyler bit back a sigh. How many times had he heard this? A hundred?
More? “That’s not how it is,” he said mildly.
“You see Dylan anywhere around here? Or Trish?”
“No, but—”
“Jeb might as well not be here,” his father complained. “He’s taking on more and more private cases, instead of learning the ropes here at Delacourt. And that corporate spy case he pursued for us turned into a fiasco.”
Tyler chuckled at his father’s interpretation of that particular event. “Whose fault was that, Dad? There was no selling of Delacourt secrets. You set Jeb up because you wanted him to fall for Brianna.”
“That’s not the point.”
“What is, then?”
“That not a one of you show any gratitude at all for what I’ve built for you.”
“I repeat, Michael is here a thousand percent. Can’t you be satisfied with that? It’s no wonder he works himself to death. You take what he does for granted, and it’s never enough.”
“That’s absurd.”
Tyler leveled a look straight at his father. “Is it?”
“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point. You sound like your mother. She’s always on my case about showing more appreciation for the job he does.”
“It couldn’t hurt.”
“Well, once you’re back here full-time, you’ll pick up some of the slack, take a little of the pressure off Michael.”
“I’m not coming back,” Tyler responded, quietly but emphatically.
His father reacted as if he’d uttered blasphemy. “Why the hell not?”
Tyler gave a resigned sigh. “You know why not, Dad. How many times do we have to have this conversation? I tried to do it your way. I’ve worked in every department in this place. The job I love, the one I’m suited for, is on the rigs.”
“That’s Corrigan’s influence talking,” his father said impatiently. “I knew it was a mistake letting you go over there and work for him.”
“This has nothing to do with Daniel.”
“It has everything to do with him. If the man had an ounce of gratitude in him, he’d follow my wishes and send my son packing.”
Tyler grinned ruefully. “Yeah, I heard you’d told him I wasn’t coming back.”
“And he couldn’t wait to run to you, could he?”
“Gee, he seemed to think it might be my decision to make. Now there’s a crazy notion, isn’t it?”
“Don’t get sarcastic with me, boy. I’m still your father.”
“I know that.”
“Then give me a little credit. I know what’s best for you.”
“No, Dad, you don’t. You know what you want for me, not what I want.”
“If it’s money you’re after...”
“Don’t be absurd, Dad. This isn’t about money. I know what you pay your top executives. It’s more than I could make working eighty hours a week for Daniel, and that’s saying something.”
“Then I just don’t get it.”
“I like the physical work, the challenge, being outdoors. I’d suffocate being cooped up in here all day.”
“Dammit, Tyler, working those rigs is dangerous. There was a time when I was learning the ropes that I did it, too. Came damned near to getting killed in a fire on one of them. Your mother would never forgive me if anything happened to you.”
Tyler saw the ploy for exactly what it was, a pitiful attempt by his father to shift the blame for his own hardheadedness onto his wife by suggesting that she was the one who feared for Tyler’s safety.
“Then I’ll just have to see that nothing happens.” He met his father’s gaze evenly. “And if you want me to, I’ll explain my decision to Mother. I’ll assure her you did your absolute best to keep me right here in Houston.”
For just an instant his father looked so thoroughly bewildered and defeated that Tyler almost relented. Then he stiffened his spine and his resolve. This was the way it had to be.
“Dad, this is for the best. Someday I’ll be too old to work the rigs. If I’m lucky, there will be a nice desk job waiting for me then.”
“Don’t count on it.”
Tyler matched his father’s scowl. “Would you rather I went to another company?”
Red patches darkened his father’s cheeks at the suggestion. “Maybe that would be for the best. It would get you away from the influence of that hooligan.”
Tyler wasn’t sure which of them was the most shocked by the response. “If that’s the way you really feel—”
His father’s anger dissolved. “Blast it all, Tyler, that’s not what I want! You’re a Delacourt. What would people think if you turned up working for one of our competitors?”
“That you and I had a falling out,” Tyler said readily. “They wouldn’t be off the mark, either.”
“Well, I’m not going to be fodder for anyone’s gossip. If you insist on risking your life, then you’ll do it on one of my rigs. They’ve got the best safety record in the business—Corrigan’s seen to that. The man costs me an arm and a leg with all his precautions.”
“Do you begrudge him the money he spends so that you can boast about your safety record?”
“Of course not,” his father retorted impatiently. “Do you have to twist everything I say?”
Tyler laughed. “Just imagine what I’d do if you had me underfoot every day.”
Slowly a reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his father’s mouth. “I suppose there is a positive side to this ridiculous decision of yours. At least we won’t be butting heads on a regular basis.”
“Just holidays and special occasions,” Tyler suggested wryly.
“Better make it more often than that, or your mother will have my hide,” his father countered.
It was as near as Bryce Delacourt was likely to come to an admission of affection, and Tyler found it oddly moving. “We definitely can’t have that, can we?” he replied lightly. “Thanks for seeing it my way, Dad.”
“You didn’t give me much of a choice, did you? Go on, now, before Corrigan calls up and accuses me of stealing his best worker.”
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll stick around till the weekend, let Mother fuss over me a little. Daniel can manage without me a few more days.”
“That’ll make your mother happy,” his father agreed. “To tell you the truth, I won’t mind seeing you around the house a little more myself.”
His words surprised Tyler. It was the closest he’d ever come to admitting that he missed one of his children. Instead he chose to grumble about their desertion of the family business. For the first time Tyler realized that what his father might mean but couldn’t say, was that he hated the fact they’d drifted out of his life. Nor was he ever likely to admit that he might be the one who’d driven them away through his attempts to control them.
“Dad, you do know that we all love you, don’t you?” Tyler said. “That hasn’t changed just because we’ve chosen to go our own ways.”
For a fleeting instant he thought he detected the sheen of unshed tears in his father’s eyes, but before he could tell for sure, his father bent over the stack of paperwork on his desk.
“You be sure to stop by and see your mother,” he said. “I’ve got work to do.”
Tyler hesitated, wanting to say more but not knowing exactly how. He settled for pausing beside his father’s desk long enough to give his shoulder a squeeze before leaving the office. As he closed the door behind him, he thought he heard Bryce sigh.
“You’re still in one piece. Everything must have gone okay,” his father’s secretary said, surveying him intently.
Tyler nodded. “Surprisingly well,” he told her.
So why was he leaving with the terrible sense that he had let his father down in some way he might never fully understand?
Four
A few hours after her morning encounter with Tyler, Maddie picked a sidewalk café in the same block as Delacourt Oil to have lunch. With any luck at all, perhaps Tyler would pass by and she could snag his attention. If not, maybe some Delacourt employees would sit at a nearby table and she would be able to overhear some juicy bit of corporate gossip. It was a long shot, but she had to admit she was losing patience with the snail’s pace of her investigation. She’d been at it for two weeks, and had little to show for her efforts other than a vague feeling that Tyler had fathered an illegitimate child, something she would likely never use.
Used to the immediacy of daily reporting, Maddie concluded she was not cut out for the slow, tedious work of gathering material for an exposé. Nor was she certain just how long Griffin Carpenter would be willing to fund her fishing expedition. He hadn’t said, and she didn’t want to test him.
Hoping to come up with something—anything—she had spent most of the morning making calls to Baton Rouge trying to pick up any sort of lead on how Tyler spent his time there. She’d come up empty. The man didn’t even have a listed phone number, and the Delacourt Oil offices had firmly declined even to confirm that he worked there. It looked as if she was going to have to go to Louisiana herself if she wanted to pursue that angle of the story. Maybe her time would have been better spent at the library going through old articles on Delacourt Oil in the Houston papers. She vowed to get busy at that first thing tomorrow—maybe even after lunch today if her plan to hook up with Tyler failed.
