Daddy Lessons. Stella Bagwell
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you later. ’Bye!”
Savanna hung up the phone, then began searching for an empty drawer to store her purse.
“I take it that was my daughter on the phone?”
Savanna glanced over at him. “It was. She was very pleased that you’re allowing her to go.”
Leaning back in his chair, he regarded his new secretary with a speculative look. “The two of you seemed awfully chatty.”
Savanna’s brown eyes glided over his face. Was that surprise she heard in his voice, or disbelief? And why did it matter to her what he was thinking, anyway?
“I wouldn’t call it chatty. Just getting acquainted.”
His features suddenly growing thoughtful, Joe tapped a pen against the graph spread in front of him. “That’s strange. Megan wasn’t interested in getting to know Edie. In fact, they didn’t get on together at all.”
“Well, I’m sure you know how it is sometimes. Some people just rub each other the wrong way.”
Without even knowing it, his eyes left her face to travel slowly down her body. “And how do I rub you, Ms. Starr?”
Stunned by his question, Savanna unconsciously took a step toward him. “I beg your pardon?”
What in the hell had come over him? Joe wondered wildly. He didn’t talk to women that way! In fact, he didn’t talk to women at all, unless it was necessary.
Clearing his throat he said, “I—that didn’t come out right. What I mean is—do you think we’ll be able to get along? To work together?”
From the sound of his voice, Savanna could have sworn their working together had been the last thing on his mind. But she could be wrong. After all, it would be crazy to think Joe McCann was thinking of her in that sort of way. The man didn’t even appear to like her very much.
Releasing a pent-up breath, she said, “I’m a flexible person, Mr. McCann. I’m sure we can get along without too much friction between us.”
“That’s good,” he told her with a short nod of his head. The last thing he needed between him and this delicious-looking blonde was friction of any sort.
Feeling suddenly awkward, Savanna said, “If that’s all, then I’ll get back to work.”
Before he could say anything, the telephone rang. As he reached for it, he said, “I’ll answer it this time. You go ahead and do whatever you need to do.”
Relieved, Savanna went back to her desk and began organizing her things. As she did, she noticed her hands were still grimy from changing the flat tire she’d had on her way to work.
She found a rest room at the end of the same corridor she’d used to enter the office. As she scrubbed her hands clean, she looked at her image in the mirror hanging over the lavatory. There was a tiny smudge of grease along her cheekbone and she quickly wiped it away with a corner of a brown paper towel.
Maybe Joe McCann had taken the black spot for a beauty mark, Savanna thought, then laughed to herself at that idea. She doubted her new boss had even noticed the dab of grease on her face. He’d been too busy chewing her up and spitting her out for being late.
Well, he might come on like a bear, but deep down she didn’t think he really was so tough. She could deal with him, Savanna promised herself. Before her job here was finished, Megan wouldn’t have to beg her father to walk a few blocks to the local library and Joe McCann might even learn how to loosen up and smile.
Chapter Three
Joe’s home was in a quiet, residential area that had been established years ago before the city had grown to such mammoth proportions. The house itself was red brick and situated on a large cul-de-sac. He’d lived in it with his parents from the time he was five years old. When his father died several years back, his mother had moved to Florida to retire near her sister. Since then he’d lived alone. Until last week, when Megan had moved in with him.
Tonight as he parked in the driveway and walked to the entrance, the tight ache between his shoulders reminded him how little rest he’d been getting lately. Hopefully he’d be able to eat supper and spend a quiet evening before work tomorrow.
The minute Joe stepped through the front door he was greeted with the loud blare of Megan’s rock music. Tossing his briefcase full of reports into an armchair, he walked down the hallway and knocked on her door.
“Come in,” Megan called loudly.
Joe pushed open the door to see his daughter lying on her stomach across the end of the bed, her elbows propped on either side of an open book.
He stepped into the room, then stared around him in disbelief. “What the he—heck has been going on in here?” Joe demanded.
Megan’s head of thick brown curls bobbed wildly as she jerked her head around toward her father. “What do you mean? Nothing has been going on.”
Joe went over to the stereo system and jabbed a finger on the Off button. “I’m talking about these clothes!”
Joe pointed at the countless number of garments strewn over the bed, the floor and part of the dresser.
Unconcerned, Megan pushed herself to a sitting position, then with a negligent wave of her hand she said, “Oh, I’ve just been trying a few things on.”
A few things? It looked to him as if there were enough things on the floor alone to stock a whole boutique. “And none of them could find their way back into the closet. Is that it?” he asked.
Megan giggled at her father’s grim expression. “Oh, Daddy, you’re so funny. It’s just clothes. They’re not hurting anything. I’ll pick them up before I go to bed,” she promised.
Deciding it might be best to relent for now and wait to see if she kept her promise, Joe nodded toward the book she’d been so engrossed in when he’d come into the room. “Is that one of the books you got at the library today?”
She gave him a sweet smile. “Thanks, Daddy, for letting me go. The library was great! I found all sorts of stuff I want to read.”
He tilted his head in an attempt to read the title printed on the spine of the book. “You didn’t, uh—get anything with…”
“Sex, murder or corruption?” she finished for him, then, giggling, she shook her head. “No. I can get plenty of that stuff on TV.”
Joe could hardly argue that point and he realized how different things were now than when he’d been Megan’s age. Savanna Starr thought he didn’t remember being a child, but he did.
Unlike Megan, his parents had lived together. But they’d never gotten along. Joe knew his father was a big reason for that. Joseph McCann had been a tough man, who’d liked his liquor and the expensive gamble of wildcatting. Joe could still hear his parents’ shouting matches and how alone and miserable they’d made him feel.
There’d been times he’d looked at Megan and felt guilty because he hadn’t been able to hold his marriage to her mother together. But now when those thoughts assaulted him, he deliberately remembered back to his own childhood, and he knew that giving Deirdre the divorce she’d wanted had been the right thing to do.
“Have you eaten yet?” he asked his daughter.
With a cheerful smile she jumped up from the bed and looped her arm through his. “Yes. But I’ll come fix your plate for you. Ophelia showed me how to heat everything up in case you were late.”
Out in the kitchen Megan made a big production of heating the casserole and preparing him a glass of iced tea. When everything was ready she carried it over to him on a plastic tray, then plopped down on a chair next to him.
Joe took a bite of the food, then glanced at his daughter. Her chin was in her hand and she was studying him as if she couldn’t quite