set. As the three of them filled their plates Thurman asked his daughter, “How was your first day on the job, honey? Think you’re gonna like it?”
Reaching for her glass of soda, Savanna groaned, albeit good-naturedly. “I don’t know whether like is the right word. Maybe you should have asked if I was going to be able to endure it.”
Gloria looked at her stepdaughter with concern. “Was it that bad? I was hoping this was going to be an interesting job for you.”
Savanna shrugged as Joe McCann’s face floated in front of her eyes. “Well, I suppose you could call it interesting. Tense, but interesting.”
“What about your new boss, is he a nice man?” Gloria questioned.
Unconsciously Savanna drew in a deep breath then let it out slowly. Throughout the day she hadn’t been able to forget that her boss was sitting only a few feet away from her. Every few minutes she’d found herself forgetting her work and glancing over at him.
To make matters worse, each time Savanna had looked, Joe McCann had lifted his head and their eyes had clashed. Exchanging glances with the man had been unsettling, to say the least. It was as if arcs of electricity had passed between them and she didn’t know why. Her boss hadn’t so much as given her a smile!
Yet she’d been home for several hours and still couldn’t get her mind off him. It was crazy! A part of her dreaded the morning and seeing him again, while the other part was eager to be back in his company.
Savanna grimaced. “If he’s nice, he keeps it well hidden. At best, I’d describe him as sober.”
“Look, baby,” her father said as he sliced into the juicy beef, “if the man is that bad, you don’t have to work for him. I can give you enough money to tide you over until you find something better.”
Savanna had stopped taking financial help from her father a long time ago, but he never ceased offering, anyway.
“Thanks, Dad,” she told Thurman, “but I have no intentions of quitting. In fact, the drilling business is far more interesting than I thought it would be. So far today, I’ve learned it takes all sorts of people to drill for gas or oil. Geologist, seismologist, construction crews, truck drivers, drillers, tool pushers, rigworkers, roustabout crews and especially some rich financier to back it all. I think it will be a good learning experience to find out just what these people do to get petroleum out of the ground.”
“Well, perhaps your boss simply had a bad day. It might be that tomorrow he’ll loosen up and you’ll be able to enjoy your job,” Gloria put in hopefully.
Joe McCann loosen up? Savanna had held hopes for that this morning. But after spending a whole day with him? Well, she was still trying to figure out just exactly what it would take to put a smile on the man’s face.
“I don’t know, Gloria,” Savanna said doubtfully. “I have a feeling every day is a bad day for Mr. McCann.”
Across the table Thurman chuckled. “If anybody can loosen him up, it’ll be you, Savanna. He’ll think a hurricane has hit his office before you get through with him.”
Savanna laughed along with her father. She might as well. It was too late to fret now. She’d stayed at McCann’s this morning in spite of the shaky start she’d gotten off to with her stern-faced boss, and in doing so, she’d committed herself to the job. Savanna had never backed out of a commitment for any reason and she wasn’t about to now. She only hoped Joe McCann didn’t make her regret it.
Chapter Four
McCann Drilling was located on the west edge of Oklahoma City and several miles from Savanna’s apartment.
The next morning Savanna made doubly sure she had plenty of time to drive to work and, if necessary, change a flat. In fact, she got to McCann’s so early she discovered the door to the office building still locked and Joe nowhere in sight.
Deciding she didn’t want to sit in her Volkswagen until he arrived, she climbed out of the car and walked over to a high chain-link fence. It started at one end of the office building and stretched far into the distance. Behind the fence, more than a hundred yards away, several men were already at work loading a mammoth piece of iron derrick onto a long flatbed trailer.
The work yard appeared to cover at least five acres of land. Savanna knew practically nothing about the petroleum industry, yet in spite of her ignorance, one thing stood out loud and clear. McCann Drilling wasn’t busy.
A long line of blue-and-white transport trucks were sitting idle, mountains of drilling pipe lay stacked on its sides, while pieces of derrick were piled end upon end of each other, lying in useless wait. The rows of huge motors, which she guessed were used as power to turn the drilling pipe as it worked its way into the ground, were all quiet. How long had it been this way? she wondered.
“I see you made it safely to work on time this morning, Ms. Starr.”
At the sound of Joe’s voice, she turned away from the link fence to see him walking down the sidewalk toward her. As her eyes drank in the sight of him, her heart began to thud like a bass drum.
He was dressed all in blue denim this morning. The jeans were obviously worn and faded to a lighter shade than the shirt and clung to his long, muscled legs like an old familiar glove. Like yesterday, the sleeves on his shirt were rolled back against his forearms. A thin gold watch circled his left wrist, but other than that he wore no jewelry.
Savanna had never worked for a man who dressed as if he were part cowboy. But then, she’d never really lived in the Midwest before, either. Maybe the men here were different. Or maybe Joe McCann had his own ideas about business clothes. Whatever the reason, she found it very hard not to think of him as a man, when every inch of him looked tough and masculine. Right down to the laced boots on his feet.
Once he finally reached her, she smiled and said, “Fortunately, I didn’t have a breakdown this morning.”
“That’s good. I didn’t want to have to go after you in one of the gin trucks.”
Was he actually teasing her? Savanna quickly studied his face, then felt strangely disappointed when she found nothing there. Not even the merest hint of a smile.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to plead my ignorance. I don’t know what a gin truck is.”
Joe pointed to a truck the workmen were using to hoist up a piece of derrick. “The one that looks like a big wrecker.”
She nodded that she understood, then glanced back over to him. “I’ve been standing here trying to figure out what most of this stuff is,” she said, waving her hand out toward the work yard. “You have so much of everything. McCann Drilling must be a big operation.”
The corners of his mouth twisted wryly. “It’s not Exxon or Texaco by any means.”
“Lucky for you.”
Frowning, he looked at her. “What do you mean, lucky for me?”
She laughed at his nonplussed expression and Joe was struck by the freshness of her face, the vibrancy of her voice. She was wearing a sundress printed with large black-eyed Susans. It had a full skirt and two little straps over each shoulder. It wasn’t a dress he considered fitting for a secretary,
