Texas Love Song. AlTonya Washington

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Texas Love Song - AlTonya Washington


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in fact ruthless to say the least.

      She wasn’t involved in the business to the same extent as her brothers, but Setha was aware of her father’s tactics. Strong-arming landowners to obtain property for the latest, greatest Melendez facility…there were other stories—ones that put strong-arming landowners in the lightweight category.

      Machine Melendez was a monster company with a history of monstrous deeds to account for its greatness. It was the brainchild of Mexican immigrant Danilo Melendez. The parts and services giant had boasted profits in the billions for the past fifteen years and multimillion-dollar balance sheets during the twenty-five prior years.

      Even with the economic downturn, Machine Melendez managed to come out smelling distinctly roselike. Danilo Melendez was a savvy businessman who saw the benefit in a diverse industry. Machine Melendez was not only a parts-and-services dynamo. There were holdings in the hospitality, finance and medical industries.

      For all the accolades, however, rumors of corruption remained. Such were often the grumblings of jealous competitors. There were occasions still where many seemed to hold merit.

      One of the more outrageous claimed Danilo Melendez had ties to a drug cartel out of Mexico City and that he’d served as a money launderer for the organization. It had been stated that in addition to the monetary benefit, Dan’s laundering efforts were repaid in cheap labor from undocumented workers.

      None of it could be proven, of course. No one rode the waves of the American dream the way Melendez had without covering any misdeeds with a host of admirable efforts…and friends.

      Danilo Melendez boasted as many high-powered connections as he did business deals. Whatever negative attention the man may have attracted from the authorities, it wasn’t enough to have any formal investigations launched.

      Dan’s friends were everywhere. Even in the most humble of communities. The man was well-known for sharing his very considerable wealth. Charity galas, hefty donations to public housing beautification and security efforts, child care initiatives—Machine Melendez was well loved by the people.

      That was where Setha came in. Whatever her father’s true reputation, she was proud of the charitable efforts of the company and her job to promote them. The head of Melendez Corporate Charities, she took her responsibilities seriously but let her staff receive the accolades and act as the face of the organization. She had no problems taking a backseat. Her image wasn’t important. After all, in the Melendez family, if one was despised, they all were.

      Spite was certainly what Avra Ross had to feel for Samson, Setha mused while scanning the purely sexist ads again. She wondered if Khouri Ross had seen them and what his impressions were. Though they’d never met, his reputation had preceded him.

      He was the only son of a respected publisher. She knew Basil Ross made few moves without consulting his right hand. Word had it Khouri Ross was exceptionally good at everything he did.

      Setha browsed the glossy shots and wondered whether he was truly a cooler head or one of the alpha male varieties she knew so well.

      * * *

      “What the hell are you doin’?” Khouri caught his sister’s arm and tugged her back from the door just as her hand folded over the lever. “You can’t just go bustin’ in on the man like that.”

      “Well, what’s the problem?” Avra propped fists to her slender hips and frowned. “Obviously somethin’s up with him.”

      “And it’s probably somethin’ he doesn’t want to discuss with his kids.”

      Avra blinked. “You think it’s about a woman?”

      “Jesus, Av.” Khouri grimaced over her bewilderment. “Some folks do mix a little pleasure into their lives from time to time, you know? The man deserves that, doesn’t he?”

      Avra waited a beat and then nodded. “Yeah…yeah he does.” Their mother had died over a decade earlier and, by all accounts, Basil hadn’t looked at another woman since.

      “Anyway, I don’t think this is about a woman.” Khouri’s gaze was fixed on his father’s office door then.

      The admission fueled Avra’s determination again. “Well, let’s go find out what’s goin’ on.”

      “Wait, Av, that’s not the way.”

      His hushed words stopped her easily. The tone never failed to deter Avra from whatever course of action she’d chosen. No one could argue that Khouri Ross had a sixth sense for selecting the right course of action. His batting average was so impressive in that regard that few saw the benefit of making a move until Khouri voiced his opinion. Avra simply slapped her hands to her sides and waited.

      Doris Shipman was returning to her office then. “Hey, darlins!” she called.

      Khouri slanted his sister a wink. “Hey, Miss Doris, you’re just all over the place this mornin’.”

      “Honey, you said it!” Doris waved one hand above her head. “I’m startin’ to feel like a chicken with my head cut off.”

      “Well, you’re by far the prettiest chicken I’ve ever seen.”

      Doris waved her hand again, giggling like a high school girl instead of a great-grandmother. “Don’t you even start that flattery, Khouri. I’m too busy to be swoonin’ over compliments today.”

      Khouri didn’t let up and Doris clearly didn’t mind all that much. Avra leaned against the doorway of Doris’s office and observed the scene. She pitied the woman who tried to ignore her brother. It’d be interesting to bet on how long one could resist should he put the full force of his charm to work then.

      “We’re sorry to be barging in on you here, Miss Doris, when you’re so busy,” Khouri was saying once talk of the new grandbaby and the fishing trip Mr. Shipman took to Lake Jackson had ended. “We just wanted to check in on Dad. After the way he raced out of the meeting…we thought there might be something we could help him with.”

      The expression dimmed on Doris’s light honey-toned face, losing some of the illumination it held when talk had surrounded her family. “Oh, dear…” She fidgeted with her pearl necklace and glanced toward Basil’s door. “It’s not about business.”

      “Is he all right, Miss D?” Khouri moved closer to Doris, cupping her elbow lightly.

      Again, Doris angled her head to check Basil’s door. Satisfied by the level of privacy, she patted Khouri’s chest. “He’s gotten bad news about a friend, a colleague, almost like a brother really.”

      “No,” Avra breathed, bolting from the doorway then.

      “Av!”

      Avra was already walking into her father’s office without so much as a knock to announce herself. Basil didn’t seem bothered by the intrusion. He barely turned his head toward the door when it opened.

      “Daddy?” Avra rushed around the desk, falling to her knees before Basil’s chair. Her large, coffee-brown gaze searched his face almost half a minute. “Is it Mr. C, Daddy?” she asked, referring to her father’s oldest friend, Wade Cornelius.

      Basil nodded, cupping Avra’s face when she gasped. “Shh…” He gestured sweetly and pulled her close as her eyes pooled with water. “Shh…”

      “What happened, Daddy?” Her voice was muffled in his shirt as they embraced.

      “They…they say they found him dead.”

      Khouri stepped deeper into the large sunken office in the uppermost corner of the building.

      “Found him?” Avra squeezed her father’s shoulder. “How? When— Do they suspect—?”

      “Shh, baby, shh… They don’t know much more than that just yet.” He kissed her forehead and patted the small of her back. “I need a little more time to myself, sugar, all right?”

      “Let’s


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