Good To Be Bad. Debbi Rawlins
time he did smile, albeit briefly. “Nothing at the moment. I assume you know the history of the corporation?”
Karrie nodded. She’d written tomes on the very subject. Sanax was bought from the heirs of a private owner about seven years ago, and had gone public under the new management. The previous owner had had more money than financial sense. He’d used company profits to buy up all kinds of land on speculation. A small percentage of it had paid off but the rest was just sitting there while branch managers all over the world investigated the profit potential. “So this land is still in limbo.”
“That’s correct, although the preliminary findings haven’t been encouraging. It is in the middle of the desert.”
“So was Laughlin once,” she said.
“Which is one of the reasons I want this land assessed.”
Her gaze strayed out the window as she enjoyed a brief daydream about having her own corner office with this awesome view. If she played her cards right, this could be her chance to shine. She looked back at him and found annoyance in his eyes. “I have a few questions,” she said. “First, may I ask why the Nevada office isn’t handling this?”
“I have them busy on another matter.”
“Fine,” she said, knowing from his tone that the subject was closed. “My understanding is that the office there is having problems with Clark County over water rights.”
He nodded, frowning. “Very touchy.”
“If we do decide to let the University have their dig, we could parlay that into an excellent PR opportunity. If played well, those water-rights issues may take a sudden turn.”
Sandhill’s eyes lit up. “I can see that we made a wise choice having you head up the project. Look into it and report back directly to me.”
“Yes, sir.” She rose when she realized his attention had already shifted to something else on his desk.
“Ms. Albright?”
She paused halfway to the door and looked at him. It dawned on her that his perpetual frown didn’t mean he was unhappy, just that he was deep in thought. She filed that tidbit away for further study.
“My secretary will make your travel arrangements. Tell her you’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
Karrie lost the smile. “Pardon me, sir, you want me to physically go to Las Vegas?”
This time his frown wasn’t pensive. “Is that a problem?”
“I believe I can handle the entire investigation from here. I’ll simply coordinate with the Nevada branch, and have the report for you in—”
Impatience drew his bushy eyebrows together.
“Sir, I’m in the middle of a project for the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade and—”
“That can wait,” Sandhill said. “This matter can’t. We have to get back to the University with our answer as soon as possible.”
She took a deep breath and swallowed several arguments that were on the tip of her tongue.
“Ms. Albright, I’m giving you the chance to put your best foot forward. If we do support the dig, I don’t simply want a press release. I want you in front of the news cameras extolling our generosity.”
“Ah, I see, sir.” God, she did not want to go back to Las Vegas. Not even for a single day. “And I do appreciate the opportunity.”
“I’ll expect to hear from you next week. In the meantime, show the community we at Sanax are team players.”
She barely held her tongue at his flip use of we. “I’ll update my supervisor and plan on leaving tomorrow.”
By way of dismissal, he picked up a file folder and opened it. “Gerda will let our people in Vegas know you’re going out there.”
A funny feeling niggled at her. “Who’s my contact at the University?”
He didn’t look up but glanced at the memo. “Dr. Philips. Dr. Rob Philips.”
R.P.
Karrie couldn’t move. She simply stared at the top of Sandhill’s graying head, her stomach doing flip-flops as the words of Madam Zora came back to haunt her.
ROB GOT OUT OF HIS CAR and looked down at his shoes. Great time to check and see if they matched. The Sanax representative was to meet him in five minutes. He hoped she wasn’t late. A dozen midterm exams waited grading in his office.
He hated this part of his job. Having to schmooze with corporations for either endowments or land use. The only thing worse was dealing with academic bureaucracy. But he played the games so that he could have freedom in the field. He’d learned the hard way to carefully choose his battles.
Having been a child prodigy had its drawbacks. He’d entered college too young, graduated too young and earned his Ph.D. at the age most people were figuring out their majors. Along the way social and tactical skills had lagged. He’d had his share of butting heads with the Dean and board members because he lacked the diplomacy and the patience that presumably came with age.
He wove through the parking lot of Joe’s Crab Shack, thinking again how peculiar it was that the rep had requested they meet at a restaurant. Probably figured he owed her dinner after having to come all the way from New York. Little did she know he’d do a lot more than spring for a meal to gain access to this particular site. Hell, he’d get down on his hands and knees and suck up big time if he had to.
Already having forgotten her name, he patted his pocket for the piece of paper the department secretary had given him. But, because he’d done something vile in a past life, it wasn’t there. He was cursed with a total lack of memory when it came to names. Modern ones, that is. He could list all the Greek gods from Atlas to Zeus without blinking. But anyone from this lifetime, and he was hopeless. It didn’t seem to matter that he’d repeated the name of the cursed woman over and over before leaving for the restaurant. All he could remember were initials. K.A.
He got inside the cool restaurant, and despite his fervent wishes the hostess informed him the Sanax watchdog hadn’t arrived yet, so he followed dutifully to their reserved table and ordered a glass of wine while he waited.
The place was starting to fill up and he hoped he wouldn’t see any of his students. Even though he didn’t get out much he seemed to run into someone from one of his classes every place he went. Which was one reason he didn’t circulate often. Young women appeared to be getting increasingly bold each year.
Although the restaurant area wasn’t too crowded yet, the bar was lined with happy-hour patrons, some of them standing for lack of stools. His gaze immediately was drawn to a redhead sitting at the end of the bar. Really more auburn, her curly hair was tied at her nape and hung halfway down her back.
Even in a khaki skirt she had a great backside, curvy and lush just as it should be. What he could see of her legs made his pulse quicken. Slender yet rounded with just the right amount of muscle.
A man walked up and said something to her and when she turned her head to respond, Rob thought there was something vaguely familiar about her. The slightly upturned nose, high cheekbones, the long graceful neck… She wasn’t one of his students. He was sure he’d remember. Even in his Thursday lectures where attendance often reached a hundred and fifty she would’ve stood out.
Anyway, she was too old to be a student. Probably in her mid to late twenties. Which automatically didn’t rule out the possibility except she was dressed in business attire. So where the hell could he have seen her before?
“Here you go.” The waitress set down his wine and smiled. “Did you want to order, or are you still waiting on someone?”
“Still waiting, thanks.”
“How about an appetizer in the meantime? The crab and artichoke dip is excellent. We also