Page 51 of Heaven, Texas (Chicago Stars 2)

“I’m here representing the Telarosa Board of Education, Mr. Sawyer. I want to make certain you’ve considered the consequences that closing Rosatech is going to have on the children of this town.”

His eyes were dark and chill in his rawboned face. Propping his elbows on the desk, he pressed his fingers together and studied her over the tips. “In what capacity are you representing the board?”

“I’m the president.”

“I see. And is this the same Board of Education that kicked me out of school a month before I could graduate?”

His question stunned her and she had no idea what to say.

“Well, Mrs. Denton?”

His eyes had darkened with hostility, and she realized that, for once, the gossip was accurate. Way Sawyer believed he had been wronged by Telarosa, and he had returned to take his revenge. The old stories came back to her. She knew that Way had been illegitimate, a condition that had made both him and his mother Trudy outcasts. Trudy had cleaned houses for a while—she’d even cleaned for Hoyt’s mother—but eventually she’d become a prostitute.

Suzy crossed her hands in he

r lap. “Do you intend to punish all of the children just because you might have been mistreated here forty years ago?”

“Not quite forty years. And the memory’s still young.” He gave her a thin smile that didn’t make it past the corners of his mouth. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“If you move Rosatech, you’ll turn Telarosa into a ghost town.”

“The company isn’t its only source of income. There’s the tourist industry.”

She saw the cynical twist to his lips and stiffened as she realized that he was baiting her. “Both of us know tourism won’t ever support this town. Without Rosatech, Telarosa is going to die.”

“I’m a businessman, not a philanthropist, and my responsibility rests with making the company more profitable. Right now, it looks as if consolidating with a plant in San Antone is the best way to do that.”

Controlling her anger, she leaned forward slightly. “Would you let me take you on a tour of the schools next week?”

“And have all those little children run screaming in terror when they see me? I think I’ll pass.”

The mockery in his eyes told her that being the town’s pariah didn’t bother him all that much.

She looked down at her hands in her lap and then back at up him. “There’s nothing I can say to change your mind, is there?”

He stared at her for a long moment. She was conscious of muffled voices in the outer reception area, the soft tick of the wall clock, the sound of her own breathing. Some-thing she didn’t understand flickered across his face, and she felt a stab of foreboding. There was an almost imperceptible tension in his posture that threatened her.

“Maybe there is.” His chair squeaked as he leaned back, and the hard, unforgiving lines of his face reminded her of the rugged granite slopes found in this part of Texas. “We can discuss it over dinner at my house on Sunday evening. I’ll send a car for you at eight.”

No polite invitation, but a direct command, and phrased in the most insulting manner. She wanted to tell him that she’d eat dinner with the devil before she’d eat with him, but the stakes were too high, and as she stared into those grim, implacable eyes, she knew that she didn’t dare refuse.

Gathering up her purse, she stood. “Very well,” she said quietly.

He had already slipped his half glasses back on and returned his attention to his papers. As she left his office, he didn’t bother to say good-bye.

She was still fuming when she reached her car. What a despicable person! She had no experience dealing with someone like him. Hoyt had been open and sunny, the opposite of Way Sawyer. As she fumbled for her car keys, she wondered what he wanted from her.

She knew Luther Baines would be expecting a phone call from her as soon as she got home, and she didn’t know what she would say to him. She certainly couldn’t tell him that she had agreed to have dinner with Sawyer. She couldn’t tell anyone that, especially Bobby Tom. If he ever found out how Sawyer had intimidated her, he’d be furious, and too much was at stake for her to risk his interference. No matter how upsetting, she would have to handle this herself.

“I’d rather not, Bobby Tom.”

“Now don’t let those pink flamingos and that tractor tire flower garden throw you off, Gracie. Shirley’s real good with hair.”

Bobby Tom held open the door of Shirley’s Hollywood Hair, which was located in the garage of a small, one-story house on a dusty residential street. Since he didn’t have to be on the set until noon, he had announced he was using the morning to get her started on her make-over. He gave her a determined nudge inside the salon, and goose pimples broke out on her arms. Like every other public place in Texas, the beauty shop was air-conditioned to the temperature of a deep freeze.

Three walls of the small shop were painted Pepto-Bismol pink, while one wall was covered in black-and-gold-mirrored tiles. There were two beauty operators in the salon, one a trim brunette in a light blue smock, the other a blowsy blonde sporting one of the biggest beehives Gracie had ever seen. Her pudgy thighs were encased by purple stretch pants and a tight pink T-shirt clung to a huge pair of breasts. The T-shirt read GOD, I WISH THESE WERE BRAINS.

Gracie prayed that the Shirley, who was supposed to do her hair, would prove to be the trim brunette, but Bobby Tom was already walking over to the other beauty operator. “Hey there, doll face.”

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