Master of Fortune / Marrying the Lone Star Maverick. Katherine Garbera

Master of Fortune / Marrying the Lone Star Maverick - Katherine Garbera


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      “Sounds good.”

      He led the way out of the club. “Do you have a car?”

      “No. I take the underground mostly. Congestion charges and parking are outrageous,” she said.

      “That they are. There’s a congestion charge around my neighborhood. I have to pay to drive home.” Traffic was a major problem in some London areas, so a charge had been introduced to ease traffic flow during certain hours.

      “Not many days,” she said. “I hear you get home in the wee hours of the morning.”

      He chuckled. “That’s true. But if I kept respectable hours I’d have to pay.”

      “You do now with the job,” she said.

      “That’s true,” he said. “What about you?”

      “What do you mean?” she asked.

      “Is this job keeping you respectable?”

      She had no idea what Henry was after with his questions. The valet brought his car around and after she was seated in the Ferrari Enzo, Henry put the car in gear. He drove with confidence and skill, negotiating the traffic with ease. She couldn’t help but admire the way that he drove. She was beginning to believe there was little that Henry didn’t do well.

      “Of course it is.”

      “Did your last job, working for Mo Rollins’s group, do the same?”

      She had a sinking feeling that he’d checked her employment record. Had he found out about her affair? Bethann had suggested to her before she’d taken this job at Everest Records that she should work in another industry, but the record industry was all she knew.

      “I took that job really seriously, Henry. I was a good employee and supported Daniel in every way I could.”

      “But he still let you go,” Henry said.

      “I had a health issue,” she said. This was a nightmare, she thought. When she’d been in the throes of her affair with Daniel it had never occurred to her that someday she’d be answering questions about why she no longer worked for him.

      Henry braked to a stop as they neared Kensington High Street. She knew he planned to check out Roof Gardens, the eclectic nightclub owned by Richard Branson, tonight.

      “Babylon okay for dinner?” he asked.

      “Yes.” She’d never eaten at the trendy high-priced restaurant before. When she’d been with Daniel, even when they’d been dating, they had tended to stay more to economical places. Daniel only spent money on his clients.

      Henry pulled up to the valet stand and got out. Astrid climbed out on her side and wished for a moment she’d taken time to dress a bit differently for her day. She was already realizing that Henry was different. That didn’t mean he would treat her better than Daniel had. This was a job, she thought. Nothing more. The measure of the man she worked for was better than her previous boss. And she knew she was going to have to change and probably grow a bit to keep up with him. She shifted the strap of her large shoulder bag and hurried around to the sidewalk so she was next to him.

      There were a few paps—paparazzi—who took some photos of Henry. She stepped back so he could be photographed alone. He posed and talked to the photographers and signed a few autographs before reaching for her hand and drawing her up the path to the entrance.

      She knew that Henry hadn’t finished questioning her about her past and Daniel. She also decided if she played her cards right, she could keep him off the topic tonight.

      “Does that happen to you often?” she asked when they checked their coats downstairs.

      He smiled ruefully. “Yes. I’m used to it, though. My mum says that it’s part of our life being in the spotlight. I grew up around it. I don’t court them, but if they want a photo I give them one.”

      “Isn’t it intrusive?” she asked.

      He stopped and pulled her toward a quiet corner. “It’s my life. I don’t think about it. When I was a player, I didn’t like them because they were a distraction and some of the other players would let the paps keep them from concentrating on the game. But now, they are what keeps my lifestyle going forward,” he said.

      “You’re a very smart man,” she said, coming to the conclusion that the showman, the charming playboy that he projected to the world was just one of the many facets of the whole man.

      “Indeed. So that’s why I’m not going to let you distract me from the fact that you still haven’t told me everything about your last employer.”

       Three

      Astrid tossed her head to the side and gave him a look that told him he was going to have to be subtler if he wanted to find out about her past. He nodded and took her arm leading her to the maître d’ stand. They were seated shortly at an intimate table for two that had a nice view. He realized he didn’t want to look at anyone but Astrid.

      She was a mass of contradictions and she fascinated him.

      “I think the London music scene is really hot right now. So many little local acts are making it big, not just here but in the States.”

      “But are they ready for it?” Henry asked.

      “I’m not sure they are. You’ve grown up in the spotlight and you know how different it is from the paps in the States. I think that some of the groups aren’t really ready to handle the fame that they achieve so quickly. And the American market can be fickle.”

      “Yes, they can. I’ve been trying to caution Steph that making it big there will mean a meteoric rise, but it could be followed by quite a crash.”

      “It’s good that you’ve taken the time to talk to her. I can help with that, as well. I listened to her music earlier today and the demo that Roger dropped off. I also think I know some venues that will suit the style of music you’re looking for.”

      “And what kind is that?”

      “Something with a hook, of course, that is catchy and that people will remember. But I think you’re also looking for music that has some heart to it.”

      He nodded. She did indeed know what he was looking for. That made him uncomfortable. He liked to play at being an easygoing guy that everyone knew and who in turn knew everyone, but in reality he kept himself distant. The only woman he could really claim to know well was his mother. And she was, by anyone’s definition, eccentric.

      But Astrid was different. She was calm and quiet at times. Like now.

      “How long did you work for the Mo Rollins Group and Daniel Martin?” he asked. Mo Rollins was a legendary producer who had established his own label after leaving Sony-BMG. Daniel was one of his up and coming protégé.

      “Only eighteen months, but I had worked as one of the assistants to Mo’s executive assistant for more than three years before that.”

      “Did you like it?” he asked. It made no sense that she’d leave that job and then come work for him. If she wanted to work in the music industry, then the job had been ideally suited for her. Henry told himself that he wasn’t asking her because he was curious about the woman. He needed to know about her past because she was part of his team and he needed to know every nuance of his team if they were going to be a success.

      “I loved it,” she said, putting down her wineglass. She leaned across the table and put her hand over his. She had neatly painted nails and her hand was very soft against the back of his. Being a rugby player he’d always had calloused or bruised hands, but hers were soft and cool.

      “I know you want to understand why I left such a high-profile job. There’s a lot to it…. It was a highly personal health issue and I just don’t—” She broke off, tears filling her eyes.

      Henry


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