Sinclair Justice (Texas Rangers #2)(63)



By the time she finished, Emm saw she’d come close to convincing all the men. Clara and Eugenie had softened a bit.

She’d done her best . . . Emm collected her equipment. Hiding her own sigh of relief, for never had a presentation unnerved her the way this one had, Emm nodded regally. “Thank you for your time.” She turned toward the door.

All the men murmured polite thanks, and Clara, Eugenie, and Elaine echoed them, if artificially.

But Ross protested, “But you’re not leaving, are you? I wanted to include you in the festivities—” He gently caught her arm.

“I have a prior luncheon engagement,” Emm said, taking a step toward the door so he’d be forced to release her arm. She couldn’t bear his touch right that moment, not in this room where she so obviously didn’t belong. Elaine Gottlieb, however, family member or not, obviously did . . . and she’d been invited to this private financial gathering, which spoke volumes to Emm of Elaine’s position in the family.

Emm exited, trying hard not to run, but Ross followed her into the hallway.

“I’ll come by your hotel tonight, if I can. We need to talk.” Ross reached for her hand, but Emm pretended not to notice as she grasped the front door lever.

Biting back tears behind a perky smile, Emm bubbled over her shoulder, “Sure, I’ll look forward to it!” This was the first and last time she’d lie to him. He’d find her long gone....

“Emm, my mom and aunt don’t realize how cold and arrogant they can be. Once you get to know them . . .”

“I’m sure. I have my own share of family members like that. No problem. Thanks for listening to my presentation.” Safely outside the house now, Emm became the professional again. It was best to end all contact with him as it began: just business.” More calmly, she said, “After I complete my recommendation to the office that the buildings merit restoration, I’ll e-mail you a copy and forward you the signed original for your records. You want me to send it here or the office?”

“Here.”

She nodded, hefted her laptop strap over her shoulder, and started down the steps, letting momentum and the tap of her heels drown out his soft, “Wait.” He hovered on the steps, but his father bypassed him and caught up with Emm before she was able to open her car door.

For her ears alone, he murmured, “I’m sorry for my wife’s and sister-in-law’s attitude, but they’re accustomed to getting what they want, and they’re very protective of Ross.”

Emm smiled at him perfunctorily. “That was apparent. I’m sorry if I spoiled your reunion  , but I had to give my honest, professional opinion or I’d be negligent in my new job.”

He nodded. “I understand that. Tell me, are you any relation to Edgar Rothschild?”

“He’s my grandfather.”

“I saw the box of cigars you gave Ross. You have exquisite taste.” He eyed her up and down approvingly. “If we decide to continue with the redevelopment, would you be willing to talk with us about leading it?”

Emm knew only the need to escape before she burst into tears. He was being very kind, but this final leave-taking would be much easier if he’d been as cold as his wife. It was easy to see where Ross got his empathy. She managed, “I can’t operate as your developer as long as I’m employed by the Parks Service, but that’s very kind of you.”

She opened her car door, nodding at him in thanks a final time. As she got into her BMW and carefully maneuvered between the other expensive vehicles, she knew he still stood there watching her, so she waved and drove off very sedately.

She grabbed her sunglasses out of her bag. Later, she wouldn’t even recall the trip into town. It was the sun, bright and intrusive, she told herself, that brought tears to her eyes. They blurred her vision so much that she swerved off the road once and had to pull over to grab a tissue. Back on the road again, she glanced at the clock. She should reach Curt’s hotel right on time for their luncheon appointment.

But as she drove carefully back into town, much slower than was her wont, she couldn’t totally quell the tears as she envisioned Ross and his new bride in his mansion. Elaine obviously had much more money and class than some poor little relation of the Rothschild dynasty. Elaine would be a better mistress of the growing ranch, and Ross’s aunt and mom obviously liked her.

Besides, Emm didn’t want to stay in Amarillo. Not really. Too dry, too desolate, too hot, too cold at night. Too . . . She tried to focus on the bright day, but as the long, winding road led her away from Ross’s door this time, the lovely sunshine illuminated only a very dull future.





Inside the study, Ross glared at everyone present but focused the bulk of his ire on the three women. Even his mother had the grace to shift under his fury, but she burst out, “She has no right to stop us from utilizing our own property—”

“She has every right. That’s her job. And she has a PhD in historic preservation. Her initial analysis was spot-on, if you read the detailed survey. She knows what’s she’s doing.”

“If she’s not in collusion with the engineer . . .” Eugenie’s insult faded away as Ross’s fury turned in her direction.

“Very well; if we can’t agree on the proper way to proceed with the development of these buildings, I have a solution.” Ross went to his desk and pulled out the checkbook attached to his oil and gas accounts. His father entered just as Ross started writing a check.

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