Goddess Rising (66 page)

October—Same Time, Wednesday

Wyatt Petroleum Headquarters, Houston, Texas

R O B E R T   W Y A T T

The sun was
out in full force over Houston—like a hot, bright wash pressing up against the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of Robert’s corner suite of offices. He glanced at his watch for the third time in an hour, glad to see time had flown by.

“Sir, your daughter’s here,” the disembodied voice of his assistant said over the intercom on his massive maple desk.

Robert pressed the intercom’s button. “Great—let me just wrap this up, and I’ll be right out. You set up lunch in the penthouse, right?”

“Chef made all her favorites,” his assistant confirmed.

“Perfect, thanks.”

Travis leaned forward in the seat across from him. “Sam’s here?” he asked, looking like he’d drawn a pat hand from a stacked deck.

“You can hold your horses, Trav,” Mack replied from the seat next to him. “We’ve still got plenty to do before the boss leaves for the Middle East.”

Travis ignored him, looking at Robert, his gaze direct and confident. “May I join y’all for lunch?”

“No, you may not,” Robert answered succinctly, setting down the production reports they’d been reviewing. “I can count on one hand how many times I’ve gotten to see my daughter one-on-one since she left for school. She’s all mine today.”

Robert stood and glanced out at the shimmering expanse of the city below. He’d been pleasantly surprised when Sammy had agreed to have lunch with him—even more so when she said she’d wanted to speak privately. And now she was here in the office—another rarity since she’d gone to college.

Robert considered taking the afternoon off before his flight that night. Maybe take her to the Mercer Arboretum for a stroll. He wondered if she’d like that.

Travis stood up. “Then I’ll just pop out and say hi.”

Robert stifled a smirk as he watched him go.

“That boy’s been nursing a little crush on her ever since she’d showed him which end was up,” Mack chuckled.

Robert just shrugged. He figured it was harmless enough. The way she and Wes had been carrying on, he didn’t figure Travis would have much of a chance either way. He respected the guy’s gumption for trying, though. If Travis wasn’t a tenacious son of a gun, he wouldn’t be working for Robert, and that was a fact.

“You and Travis finish up prep for the trip, alright? You can fill me in on any of the additional details on the jet tonight.”

“You got it, Rob,” Mack told him, standing. “Just so you know—this deep-water drilling in the Gulf is already causing some ripples. If we’re successful in pushing this through the Hill, we’re going to be making some choice enemies out of the Middle Eastern players we’ll be meeting. They’ll want to find a way to get in on the action.”

Robert smiled grimly. “They can just get the hell in line. I didn’t make my bones shying away from trouble.”

“Just sayin’,” Mack replied with a shrug, opening the office door. “We don’t want to be diggin’ up more snakes than we can kill.”

“Let’s just get the drilling rights through D.C. first,” Robert suggested. “Now I’m going to enjoy lunch with my daughter.”

Sam was smiling at Travis when Mack and Robert stepped out of his office. She looked lovely in a pretty blue dress, her hair down in glossy ripples the color of midnight. As Robert approached, he thought he noticed she looked a touch paler than usual, and maybe a little thin. He figured she was working too hard, but he kept his opinion to himself while Mack greeted her.

“You look pretty as a picture, darlin’,” Mack told her sincerely as he hugged her.

“Thanks, Mack,” she answered. “You keeping Dad on the straight and narrow?” she asked with a little smile.

“Don’t get him all up about it, but Rob wouldn’t know what to do without me,” he replied blithely before slapping a broad hand on Travis’s shoulder. “We’ll both leave you to lunch. See you soon, Sammy.”

“You too, Mack.” Sam smiled. “Nice talking to you, Trav.”

“I’ll give you a call later?” Travis asked over his shoulder as he and Mack moved off toward their offices.

“Sure,” she said before turning toward Robert. “Hey, Daddy,” she said as she leaned in to kiss his cheek, just like she had when she was little.

“Hey, Sammy girl.” Robert offered his arm. “It’s good to see you back in the office.”

Sam shrugged a little. “Hard to find the time, between A&M and the ranch. You got lunch ready?”

“Upstairs,” Robert replied, pressing the button for his private elevator. The penthouse of Wyatt Towers served as his private residence as well as an entertainment area he used for the occasional business luncheon or cocktail party. Sam and Ry had their own rooms, though they were rarely occupied. Ry preferred staying at the ranch with Carey, running around and causing trouble, and Sam—well, he’d always hoped she’d spend more time there, but time would tell.

They stepped off the elevator into the spacious travertine foyer featuring a stunning floor-to-ceiling view of the city. Robert led her through the open space, a combination of architectural austerity and masculine comfort—his haven away from home, the place he’d lived in solitude for years after losing Samantha’s mother. They passed over finely woven Persian carpets collected on trips to the Middle East, densely packed bookshelves holding volumes purchased in shops from Scotland to Hokkaido and back again. The skylights illuminated various Cherokee artifacts and commissioned works of art.

“I thought we’d eat on the balcony,” Robert said as he led her toward the patio overlooking the city.

Samantha smiled. “Fall finally cooled Houston off enough to get away with that,” she agreed. “Might as well enjoy it.”

The chef had prepared a feast for the senses: delicate spinach, lightly sautéed with lemon and mizuna paired with succulent ten-ounce Wyatt Ranch Limousin ribeyes, and accompanied by Hannah’s homegrown red potatoes and rosemary that were sent up special with Robert when he’d returned to work earlier in the week.

“This is amazing,” Sam told the chef, making him beam with obvious pleasure. “You’ve really outdone yourself, Felix.”

“Hannah sends her love,” the chef told her before disappearing into the attached kitchen.

“I would have been happy with tacos,” she admitted as Robert seated her.

“Not every day I get to have lunch with my girl.”

“That’s true,” she agreed, unfolding her napkin. “It’s actually one of the reasons why I wanted to see you, Dad.”

Robert took a sip of water, waiting.

Her hands fluttered for a second before settling on her lap. He watched Sam take a little breath, like she was nervous, before meeting him square in the eye.

“I’ve been thinking a lot the past couple weeks—about our relationship,” Sam told him, her gaze direct and clear, and maybe a little sad. “I know we haven’t been close in a long time, and there are a lot of reasons for that, but the truth is, I felt like I lost both my parents when Mom died.”

Robert’s hand tightened imperceptibly on his water glass. It pained him to hear the truth, but she was right. She had lost him for a while. He hadn’t been much of a father to her. Not for many years.

“I worked really hard to keep a distance after that, and I came to resent you for it,” she continued, looking out into the expanse, her eyes tracking the horizon as the late fall breeze lifted her hair. She looked so much like her mother, it nearly took his breath away. “I’ve been thinking a great deal about what kind of person I want to be, and the truth is, I don’t want to be angry with you.” She met his eyes again. “And I definitely don’t want Ry to see us at odds all the time—the way we are now.”

It seemed to Robert that the tourniquet he held closely around his emotions loosened at her words. He’d never been a sentimental man, and was certainly not given to expressions of emotion, but his heart flooded with warmth to hear her words of conciliation. Robert had been butting up against a wall with her for the past couple years, and maybe she was right to have erected it in the first place, but now that she was finally taking down some of her defenses, maybe even forgiving him a little… he felt happier than he had in a long time. Robert reached across the table, clasping his daughter’s hand.

“You know there’s nothing more important to me than you and your brother, right? I know I don’t always say it the way it needs to be told, but I love you, Sammy. More than I can ever tell you.” He squeezed her fingers when he saw her eyes well. Sam looked up at the sky, quick to hide her feelings—a trait she’d inherited from him, for better or for worse. She nodded quickly, pulling her hand back before picking up her knife and fork and cutting into her steak.

“I’ve made another decision I wanted to tell you about,” she transitioned smoothly, back to business.

Robert waited.

“I’ve decided to double major in linguistics and behavioral psychology,” she said, surprising him.

“No chance of changing that to petrochemical engineering?” he asked, only half-teasing.

“Not a snowball’s chance in hell,” Sam answered frankly, though she flashed a good-natured grin.

“What are you planning to do with it?” Robert asked as he sliced into his ribeye, curious.

“I was thinking of military intelligence to start,” she replied. “It’s one of the reasons I’m here, actually.”

Robert lifted a brow in question.

“I have an appointment with a captain at the Kennedy Center here in Houston. It’s part of the Naval Intelligence Office.”

Robert couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d told him she was quitting college to become an acrobat, but he didn’t show it. “No kidding?”

Sam bit into her steak, sighing with pleasure before she continued. “I think with my propensity for languages and my interest in psychology, I could be a good interrogator one day, or at least very useful in military intelligence. I’m not a hundred percent certain, but I’m doing my due diligence now. Figured it’s time.”

Well, hot damn.
An interrogator. That suited Sammy. He liked it.

“What about the Rangers?” Robert asked idly, taking a sip of his iced tea.

His daughter shrugged lightly. “I’m still going out for the competition next year, but something else has happened.”

Robert lifted his brows. “Like what?”

“I realized the biggest reason I wanted to go after the Army Rangers was to piss you off, and if I want to be in the special forces by the time I graduate, I can always try for the Navy SEALs or Marine Corps Special Ops,” Sam admitted, though her expression looked a little ornery. “Either way, I could beat the pants off of your military record in my own way.”

“That you could, Sammy girl.” Robert felt a big grin stretch his face as he laughed outright. “That you could.”

Sam’s expression grew somber. She set down her cutlery and looked at him with a look of gravitas she’d had since she was little. “I want to bury the hatchet, Dad. I know it’ll take time, and I know you and I won’t always see eye to eye, but I want you to know I’m proud of being a Wyatt. I’m proud to be your daughter, even though you’ve done a bunch of wily b.s. like keeping tabs on me in school and paying off Sasser to do God only knows what. But now I need you to trust me to make my own decisions and to make the right ones, Dad.”

Surprise reverberated through Robert, though he didn’t show it. He briefly considered denying it, but his daughter was too damn smart to buy it, and she expected him to backpedal, if that knowing little smirk of hers was any indication.

“How did you know?” he asked instead.

Sam shot him a sidelong glance as she sipped her water. “I’m your daughter, Daddy. It’s exactly what I’d have done if it was Ryland.” She tapped her temple. “Great minds think alike…” She sliced into her steak. “Besides which, honest-to-God SEALs showing up to an ROTC program in Texas just out of the blue? Sasser’s got pull, but he’s an infantryman through and through. You overplayed your hand on that one,” she commented. “Had
you
written all over it.”

“Well, shoot.” Robert grinned. “And here I thought you’d never be the wiser.”

“I know you’re just trying to take care of me, and I guess part of me is grateful for that. But you taught me to stand on my own two feet.” Sam leaned forward, expression serious. “So don’t you think it’s about time you let me?”

Robert sat back, pride in his daughter warring with his desire to protect her from anything and everything that might ever harm her. But Sammy was right. It was time he let go of the reins a little; it was time to see what she could do.

“You’ll always be my little girl,” he reminded her. “That never changes.”

“Maybe, but you taught your little girl to skin her own buffalo,” she replied. “So I figure it’s best you leave me to it.”

Well, damn
. She reminded him so much of himself at her age.

Robert raised his glass in a toast. Sam lifted hers as well. “To your success,” he murmured.

Sam smiled as they clinked glasses. “To
our
success.”

October—Thursday Night

Bar Illegal, Austin, Texas

W E S L E Y