The Last Man In Texas. Jan Freed

      “It’s paying the bills right now that I’m worried about.”

      “Like I’m not?” His headache shrieked a painful echo. Yelling, bad. You’d think he’d learn.

      He uncurled the fists at his sides and tried again. “I did what I had to do to bump the agency up to the next level. Malloy Marketing wouldn’t have made the first review cut if SkyHawk Airlines’ management had toured the old headquarters. They would’ve pegged the agency as small potatoes and handed their launch budget to some fat Idaho spud.” Poised to offer service to thirteen major cities throughout the U.S., the new airline carrier would be a highly visible and profitable account for its agency of record.

      “Maybe. We’ll never know for sure, will we?”

      The pain in his chest caught up with his headache and grew agonizing. Failure, very bad.

      “Oh, well. What’s done is done.” She straightened her spine and set her jaw. “I’ll need to review the balance sheet and client billing statements as soon as possible.”

      Panic clawed at his control.

      “If we focus on cost-efficiency and revise our growth strategy, we’ll be okay.”

      He couldn’t think.

      “Cameron?”

      He couldn’t breathe.

      “Hey, are you all right?”

      “No!” Cameron roared, heaving off his unbearable fear and guilt.

      He stalked forward to Lizzy’s chair, leaned down and braced a hand on each upholstered arm. “What’s this we business, huh? I don’t see your name on the letterhead, or the bank loan papers, or the building lease agreement, or the payroll checks. It’s my ass on the signature line. My company you’re talking about, not cold facts and figures on a page. So listen up, Lizzy, because here’s our game plan and I’ll only say it once.

      “You’ll keep hiding from the real world in your nice safe office, converting real marketing problems into theoretical marketing strategies that other people will keep presenting and implementing. You’ll let me keep handling the agency finances, just like always, without your interference. And you’ll keep the company’s financial status to yourself, because even a hint of trouble would be bad for employee and client morale, wouldn’t it? Especially since Malloy Marketing won’t fail. I repeat, this company will not fail.”

      The thud in his ears was loud and frantic, dominating all other sensory input. Gradually his heartbeat slowed. The vise squeezing his lungs loosened. He inhaled deeply and detected the scent of lemons. Good Lord!

      Cameron stared down at Lizzy in bemusement as her quick warm breaths fanned his skin.

      Her uptilted face was in classic kissing position. Automatically he lowered his gaze to her mouth. Small, plump and pretty. Familiar…and yet not. Sampling those cupid-bow lips would be as natural as taking a sip of Heineken.

      And as foreign as swallowing a taste of mam.

      “I believe I grasp your meaning, Cameron. You can move aside, now.”

      His gaze jerked up to meet wounded Betty Boop eyes. Every malicious word he’d uttered replayed in his head.

      He didn’t budge. “Lizzy…God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean all that stuff. You know I didn’t.”

      “Oh, I think you did. It might’ve taken me ten years to figure out, but by George, I’ve finally ‘got’ it.” Her expression hardened. “This is your company, not ours. You’ll let me share credit for the agency’s awards, but not responsibility for its problems. I shouldn’t overstep my bounds, or even leave my office except at your invitation. Because you’re the high concept front man, right?”

      Damn. “You’re twisting my—”

      “I’m only the back office details person.” She overrode his protest, G.I. Jane on a roll. “I’m handy with textbook theories, but have no useful practical experience. I couldn’t possibly help you in the real business world. Isn’t that right, boss?”

      “No! You’re way off base. I’ve been under a lot of pressure, and I took it out on you. That was my temper talking, not me. C’mon, Lizzy, you know how I get. I’m not proud of lashing out when I get mad, but that’s the way I am.”

      “No, Cameron. That’s the way you choose to be.”

      The icy contempt in her voice chilled his blood. He suppressed a shiver of premonition. “Okay, you’re right. I should never have blown up in your face. I’m sorry, okay? Tell me what I can do to make you forgive me.”

      “Move out of my way.”

      He loosened his grip on the chair arms.

      “I need to go type my letter of resignation.”

      His elbows straightened and locked.

      “What’s the matter, Cameron? Are those instructions too detailed for you? Well, here’s a high concept.” She raised her palms and flattened them against his chest, “I quit!” she yelled, and gave him a mighty shove.

      He staggered backward and hit the edge of his desk, his rump coming down hard.

      She erupted from the chair and crossed the carpet so fast a trail of static snapped in her wake.

      Dazed, he blinked at the empty doorway, wondering how the situation had escalated so completely out of his control. He’d had many lively debates with his vice president since founding Malloy Marketing, but never a true fight. An ugly fight, complete with insults and bruised feelings.

      His fault. His goddamn temper’s fault. All his life it had spoken before his brain could counsel caution. All his life he’d been forgiven due to a face and abilities he’d been born with, that made others seem to think he was special. A regular Golden Boy. And now, one of Austin’s ten most eligible bachelors to boot.

      He raised the heels of both palms to his eye sockets and pressed. Yeah, he was a born winner, all right. Everyone thought so. He’d managed for years to scam them all.

      All but the one person whose opinion he trusted and respected most.

      Lowering his hands, Cameron conceded he’d pushed the boundaries of his friendship with Lizzy to the breaking point. Wounded pride had demanded her dramatic response. She hadn’t actually quit, of course. They were a team. A one-two punch. His creative campaigns and her marketing plans had knocked many an agency out of the competition for choice accounts.

      Despite his mean-spirited reference to “my company,” she knew he appreciated her contributions. Hell, her salary almost matched his, solid proof of how important she was in the food chain. Still, she obviously wanted him to grovel a bit longer.

      Cameron slid off the desk, smoothed his trousers and straightened his tie. No problem.

      He’d hurt her, and for that, no penance was too harsh. He would give her the pound of flesh she deserved, even though they both knew she had no intention of resigning. Not to be cruel or anything, but…please. Malloy Marketing was her whole life.

      Without it, what would she do?

      CHAPTER TWO

      SHE’D GO TO NEW YORK, that’s what she’d do. Madison Avenue, here I come!

      Elizabeth marched down the long hallway, her vision blurred, her heartbeat loud in her ears.

      Ten years she’d given to that man and his company. Ten years of blood, sweat and tears to help him fulfill his dream. And for what?

      Had he thanked her for offering to help bail him out of this—or any previous crisis?

      No.

      Had he appreciated her arriving early and staying late day after day, year after year?

      Not