Texas Christmas. Nancy Robards Thompson

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      Chapter Three

      Two days later, Robert sat in his home office and sorted through a stack of mail. He deposited five invitations to parties he would normally have no intention of attending into a pile. But the thought of running into Pepper Merriweather made him rethink his standard no.

      “Shall I RSVP yes to these for you?” asked his sister Kate. She’d been working for him since she’d graduated from the University of Texas with an MBA eighteen months ago.

      And then he came to his senses. The last thing he needed was to go out searching for his Cinderella. Hadn’t his divorce taught him that?

      Rob answered Kate with a barely audible harrumph, which Kate seemed to intuitively understand. “Come on, Rob, I’ll watch Cody for you. You need to get out.”

      He shot her his best leveling stare. “I have too much work to do this week to waste my time at parties thrown by people I don’t even know.”

      Pepper might be there.

      All the better reason not to go.

      She shook her head. “If you went to these parties, you’d have the opportunity to meet them. Come on, you need a break. Get out and have some fun. Besides, the only reason anyone goes to these things is to work the circuit. There’s a lot of money at these shindigs. You’re missing out on opportunities for the Foundation.”

      She was right. But to him, working the shindig circuit, as Kate called it, ranked up there with shopping or an evening at the ballet. Simply put, he could think of a hundred other things he’d rather do—such as change the oil in his truck or wash Gabe, his Lab-like, Heinz 57 mixed breed. Or, most important, staying in with Cody, his five-year-old son and eating popcorn and watching Spider-Man—again.

      “I pay you to schmooze for the Foundation. If you think these parties are such a missed opportunity, why don’t you go in my place?” He turned away from the neat stacks of mail he’d created for Kate so she’d know what to do with them.

      Next he began opening the emails that had come in since he’d taken a break to eat lunch with Cody, who had come home from kindergarten early today claiming he didn’t feel well. He’d perked up once he saw his dad. Rob wondered if he should schedule a conference with his teacher. Being the only kid in his class who was in a wheelchair made things difficult. Kids could be so heartless. Downright mean. He didn’t want Cody falling into the trap of having his old man fight his battles for him. But he was only in kindergarten.

      Sometimes he sucked at being a single parent. But there was no questioning how much he loved his son.

      “The only reason they invite me is because they want to hit me up for whatever cause they’ve deemed worthy this week.”

      It was true. And Rob did give back generously to the community through the Macintyre Family Foundation, where the recipients of charitable gifts were hand selected and well researched to make sure they fell within the guidelines of the MFF mission statement: Family, Community and Education. He had a real problem with these so-called nonprofits that spent a boatload of money to throw parties in the name of charity.

      The truth was even though his corporation, Macintyre Enterprises, was worth more than a cool billion, the assets weren’t liquid. Rob’s money was tied up in oil rigs and other ventures that looked impressive on a balance sheet, but didn’t allow for a whole lot of impulsive financial movement.

      Hell, if he had the liquidity, there would be no need for his Foundation to beg for money for the most recent cause they’d taken on: partnering with Celebration Memorial Hospital to raise five million dollars to build a state-of-the-art pediatric wing onto the hospital. When Cody had been in the accident two years ago, he had to be airlifted to a hospital miles away for treatment. The boy was lucky to be alive. But that was one of the dark memories that Rob had sealed off, and he blinked it away to ensure it wouldn’t escape.

      Kate crossed her arms and gave an impatient huff. “These invitations are addressed to you, Rob, not me. I’m pretty sure they’re nontransferable.”

      “Mmm-hmm,” he grunted absently, opening and skimming an email about a project update that he’d been waiting for.

      Even if Cody’s wheelchair was a stark reminder of past mistakes, at least his boy was alive. That was all that mattered. More pressing was the fact that Cody would need at least one operation soon if there was ever going to be a chance that he’d walk again. Sadly, even with the Macintyre Family Foundation’s personal commitment to raising the money to build the pediatric surgical wing, the facility wouldn’t be ready for a while.

      If he had the damn money in hand, he’d pay for the wing himself so it could be built now, and he wouldn’t have to bother with parties and schmoozing and all the painful gyrations that went along with getting someone to do you a favor.

      “Rob? Are you listening to me?”

      “Not if you’re still haranguing me about the parties.”

      “It would be good for you to get out every once in a while,” she persisted.

      His thoughts drifted to the kiss he’d shared with Pepper.

      “How long are you going to punish yourself for something that wasn’t your СКАЧАТЬ