Call Me Irresistible (Wynette, Texas #5)(38)

Ted hated cat-and-mouse games. She knew because he leaned farther back in his chair, as unruffled as a man could be. "The most beautiful part of nowhere anybody's ever seen," he said.

And one they wanted to destroy with a hotel, condos, manicured fairways, and pristine greens.

"Don't forget there's a landing strip not twenty miles out of town." Kenny fingered his cell.

"But not much else to speak of," Spence said. "No upscale boutiques for the ladies. No nightclubs or fine dining."

Skeet scratched his jaw, his nails rasping over the graying stubble. "I don't see that's much of a disadvantage. All it means is people'll spend more money at your resort."

"When they're not coming into Wynette to get their fix of small-town Americana," Ted said. "The Roustabout, for example. This is the real thing-no phonied-up national franchise with mass-produced steer horns hanging on the wall. We all know how much rich people appreciate authenticity."

An interesting observation coming from a multimillionaire. It occurred to her that everybody at this table was filthy rich except her. Even Skeet Cooper must have a couple of million tucked away from all the prize money he'd earned caddying for Dallie.

Spence curled his hand over Meg's wrist. "Let's dance, Miz Meg. I need to work off my dinner."

She didn't want to dance with him, and she extracted her hand with the excuse of reaching for her napkin. "I don't understand exactly why you're so eager to build a resort. You're already the head of a big company. Why make your life more complicated?"

"Some things a man's destined to do." It sounded like a line from one of her father's worst movies. "You ever heard of a guy named Herb Kohler?"

"I don't think so."

"Kohler Company. Plumbing. My biggest rival."

She didn't pay much attention to bathroom fixtures, but even she'd heard of Kohler, and she nodded.

"Herb owns the American Club in Kohler, Wisconsin, along with four of the Midwest's best golf courses. Each room at the American Club is outfitted with the latest plumbing fixtures. There's even a plumbing museum. Every year the place is top ranked."



       
         
       
        

"Herb Kohler's an important man," Ted said with such a lack of guile that she nearly rolled her eyes. Was she the only person who saw through him? "He sure has made himself a legend in the golfing world."

And Spencer Skipjack wanted to outdo his rival. That's why building this resort was so important to him.

"It's too bad Herb didn't build his place somewhere people could play year-round," Dallie said. "Wisconsin's a damn cold state."

"The reason I was smart enough to choose Texas," Skipjack said. "I came down here a lot from Indiana when I was a kid to visit my mother's family. I've always felt at home in the Lone Star State. More Texan than Hoosier." He turned his attention back to Meg. "Wherever I build, you be sure and tell your father he's invited to play anytime as my guest."

"I'll do that." Her athletic father still loved basketball, and thanks to her mother, now rode horseback for pleasure, but she couldn't imagine him swinging a golf club.

She'd had separate phone conversations with both of her parents today, but instead of begging them to send money, she'd told them that she'd gotten a great job in hospitality at an important Texas country club. Although she didn't say she was the activities coordinator, neither did she correct her mother when she came to that conclusion and said how wonderful it was Meg had finally found a useful outlet for her natural creativity. Her dad was just happy she had a job.

She couldn't keep quiet about this any longer. "Have any of you thought about leaving that land alone? I mean, does the world really need another golf course eating up more of our natural resources?"

Ted's frown was almost imperceptible. "Recreational green spaces keep people healthy."

"Damn right they do," Spence said before Meg could bring up the golfers and their Bud Light. "Ted and I have talked a lot about that." He pushed back his chair. "Come on, Miz Meg. I like this song."

Spence might have her arm, but Meg could have sworn she felt Ted's invisible hand shoving her to the dance floor.

Spence was a decent dancer, and the song was up tempo, so things started out all right. But when a ballad came on, he pulled her so close his belt buckle pressed against her, not to mention something more objectionable. "I don't know what happened to make you fall on hard times." Spence nuzzled her ear. "But it looks like you could use somebody to watch out for you until you're back on your feet."