Texas Love Song

“Right.” Setha scanned the photo again. “So is it my brother’s take on it that you hate?”

“Not at all.” He was already shaking his head. “It’s just obvious that he’s going against what he really wants and tryin’ to please Avra at the same time. That was his first mistake.”

A tiny frown worked its way between Setha’s long, arched brows. “What is it you think he really wants?”

Khouri motioned toward the photo. “May I?” Taking the artwork, he used two other glossies to crop the photo in question.

Setha watched with bland interest. “A woman in a bikini standing over a caption that reads ‘Buy Melendez.’” She smirked. “You’re serious?”

Khouri regarded her more intently. “Machine Melendez is a male-dominated company selling a male-dominated product.”

Setha’s laughter was a bit less humor filled then. “Women do buy the occasional alternator, Mr. Ross.”

“Khouri.”

Dammit, she thought, did he have to make her want to moan when she was trying to make a valid point?

“Can I get you anything?” he offered, easily noticing her strained expression.

Setha only shook her head to decline.

“Your point’s well taken,” Khouri continued, “and in Samson’s defense, what makes him so good at promoting Melendez is that he speaks to the majority of his clientele and he speaks in their language.”

“Chauvinism. Sexism.”

“Good guesses.” Khouri grinned when she gave him a playful wave. “It is what it is. But if Melendez wants advertising in the Review we’re gonna have to come up with something that speaks to all Melendez clientele.”

“Equally?” Setha’s tone was hopeful.

Khouri pushed aside the photos. “We’re not miracle workers, Ms. Melendez.”

“Setha, please.”

“Setha.”

A shiver kissed her skin beneath the material of her white French-cuffed shirt. Thinning her lips, she steeled herself against reacting to it. “So do you know what your sister wants for this campaign?”

“That’s easy.” Khouri took the photos and turned them facedown. “Nothing. She doesn’t think we should even be doing business with your family’s company.”

Once again that morning, Setha broke into full-bodied laughter.

* * *

Avra set the lock on her office door and then took a seat on the edge of her desk. Facing her view of downtown Houston, she dialed out and waited for the connection.

“Avra!” a cheerful feminine voice greeted.

“Off the record, Gwen.”

“Heffa,” Gwen Bennett huffed in the most affectionate tone. “So what’s up?”

Avra trailed fingers through the short, glossy, onyx-colored curls covering her head. “Did you hear about Wade Cornelius?”

“Yeah…” Gwen’s sigh came through the line. “The man was a legend. I’m pretty sure the Houston Journal’s got some sort of memorial planned for him in the op-ed section later in the week.”

“And that’s all?”

“Well, that’s what—”

Avra rolled her eyes. She could practically see the veteran reporter’s internal antennae going up.

“What’s up, Av?”

“You knew he was my mentor, Gwen.”

“Yeah…” Gwen sighed again, that time realizing how hard the man’s death must have hit her friend. “I’m sorry if I sounded crass, I—”

“Have you heard anything else about his death?” Avra moved off her desk and closer to the windows. “All it said on the news was that he’d been—been found… Do you know whether the authorities suspect some foul play?”

“Honestly, Av, I haven’t heard a thing. Is this…something you want me to dig around in?”

Avra hedged instead of offering a prompt reply.

“I promise not to print anything without talking to you first. But, Av, if it turns out that foul play did account for the death, you know it’ll be news.”

“I know.” Avra turned her back on the view and worried the hemline of her silver ruffled blouse. “Look, just do whatever you can to find out whatever you can and keep it quiet for as long as you can, all right?”

“Avra…honey, don’t take this wrong but do you think I will find something?”

Avra began to wear a path before the floor-to-ceiling windows in the office. “I can’t say one way or another. I mean, Mr. C was no spring chicken—high blood pressure, diabetes…so who knows? But it’s nagging at me. Whether anything’s up or not, the cops’ll hide it for as long as they can, and I’m not patient enough to wait on them to share the news.”

“Understood. All right then, girl. I’ll be in touch.”

The call ended and Avra cradled her forehead in her palm.

* * *

After a lengthy discussion, Setha and Khouri broke for a brainstorming session. Seated on opposite sides of the office, they scribbled ideas for possible Machine Melendez ads.

At least, Setha scribbled. Khouri stared. It was all he could do to get through the first hour of their discussion that morning. It would have probably been a chore for him to keep his full attention on business anyway.

It went without saying that Setha Melendez was a beauty. It was no surprise that she was tall coming from a family of giants—same as him, Khouri thought. What was a surprise was the sweet, husky voice that cracked every now and then in the most adorable way. Unlike her brothers who’d inherited their complexion from their father, Setha’s skin was a flawless dark chocolate, courtesy of her mother.

Then, there was everything else. Her curves. The blue-black waves of hair bound in the tight glossy ball atop her head. Then there were the midnight-colored eyes that could drown a man and the mouth that promised heaven.

While the physical surprises abounded and delighted, they didn’t take his mind off the fact that she’d sought refuge in his car just two nights prior. Of all the mysteries he intended to solve about her, that was the one he most wanted answers to.

“Lunch?” he proposed when she looked up to find him watching her.

“Oh…thank you, but no.” She scooted to the edge of the sofa. “I’m supposed to have a late lunch with my staff.”

“Well, then.” Khouri left his place behind the desk and went to meet her in the center of the room. “Guess we’ll have lots to talk about.” He smiled toward the pad she’d been scribbling on.

She eased it into her tote and nodded. “I’ll clear time with my staff so we can schedule meetings and put this thing to bed.” She coughed, the phrase having left her mouth before her brain could process it.

Khouri held his laughter, knowing he’d only embarrass her more than she already was. “May I take you to your car?” he asked, bringing his hand to the small of her back but not touching her there.

Setha raised a hand, shaking her head as she did so. “I’ve already taken up enough of your time.”

“Hold on.” He went back to his desk, leaning across it and grabbing the phone. “Hey,” he greeted softly when Marta answered. “Call down to security and tell them to have somebody down there to show Ms. Melendez to her car.”

“I appreciate that,” Setha said when he rejoined her in the middle of the room. “But I can get myself to the car just fine.”

“I know that, but this is for Sam’s benefit.” Khouri’s sleek brows rose in acknowledgment of her curiosity. “I’m sure he didn’t much like sending his baby sister into the lion’s den. Having sisters myself, I know I wouldn’t care for it much, either.” Bright eyes scanned her body quickly yet intensely. “Least I can do is have security give you an escort.”

“Well, thank you.” She almost whispered the words.

“You’re welcome. I’ll call you.” His voice was just as soft.

Setha walked out less than half a minute later and Khouri ordered himself to stop at his office door—not to follow her down the hall. He watched even after she had disappeared into one of the elevators.

“Put your tongue back in your mouth, baby,” Marta said when she walked past.

Khouri rolled his eyes and returned to his office. Marta’s laughter followed.

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