a possibility.
And it wasn’t. Not for Rogan. Not for years yet.
He saw freedom in his immediate future and he intended to enjoy it.
Javier said, “I understand that you and Caleb went to school together?”
Rogan smiled at the older man. Time to trot out the family history, clarify the personal connections. “Yes, we did. UT in Austin. He introduced me to Victor Lukovic. Victor had come to the U.S. on a football scholarship. Now he plays football for the Dallas Cowboys. We hung out together for a while, the three of us—Caleb, Victor and me.”
Elena told her father, “Victor and Caleb’s wife, Irina, were raised together in Argovia—it’s a small country in the Balkans, on the Adriatic Sea.”
“Ah,” said Javier. “That’s right. I remember now.” He glanced across at Rogan again. “Caleb gave Irina a job as his housekeeper, so she could get a permit to work in the U.S. They fell in love and married.”
“That’s right.”
“And Victor is a linebacker. They call him the Balkan Bear.”
“The one and only,” Rogan said. “Since he and his family live in the Dallas area, we get together often.”
“So you all three graduated from UT the same year?”
“No. Caleb was a year ahead of Victor and me. And I left in my junior year, so I never did get my degree.”
Javier frowned. “What happened that you didn’t graduate?”
“My parents were killed in a freak boating accident. I went home and took over the family business.”
Javier’s daughter made a soft sound of distress. “Oh, Rogan. How awful for you….”
“How old were you?” Javier asked.
“Twenty-one.”
“So young to be in charge of your own company…”
He shook his head. “The death of my parents, that was bad. They should have had years and years ahead of them. But taking over the business? It was no hardship. It was something I wanted to do. I’d been working with my dad every summer for years before he died. I knew the business. And my plan had always been to go in with my dad eventually, to take over when he was ready to retire.”
“I lost my father when I was twenty,” said Javier. The dark circles under his eyes gave him a haunted look just then. “It’s not a good thing, for a man to lose the steadying hand of a father too soon. It can make him…bitter. Impatient. Angry.”
Rogan met Javier’s eyes without flinching. “I managed. I got through it. I don’t think I’m bitter.”
Javier shook his head and muttered regretfully, “I spoke of myself, not of you.”
“Ah,” Rogan said, and left it at that.
Elena was looking at her father now. “Papi,” she said softly, and touched his shoulder, a consoling sort of touch.
Javier gave her a gentle smile. And then he spoke to Rogan again. “And didn’t you tell me you had brothers and a sister?”
“Cormac and Niall are twenty-four and twenty-three respectively. Cormac works with me. We’re partners. I run the jobs. He runs the finances and acts as my second on-site when necessary. Niall is in law school. My baby sister, Brenda, is eighteen and headed off to college back east in the fall.”
“They’re all doing well, then?”
“Yes, they are.”
“Who cared for them, when you lost your mother and father?”
“I did.”
The older man regarded him for several long seconds. At last, he nodded. “You are an admirable man.”
Rogan didn’t feel all that admirable. “I did what I had to do.”
“No,” said Javier. “You did the right thing at a difficult time. In the end, family is what matters. And you thought of your family when many would have only cared for themselves. I respect that, greatly. I wish…” He looked away.
Elena leaned toward her father. Rogan thought she would say something to the older man—something comforting, maybe. But then she only put her hand on his arm.
Javier patted her hand and gave her another of those gentle smiles.
The waiter came with their food. After that, they spoke mostly of the various projects Javier’s company had in the works and of how both men viewed the transition should they reach an agreement.
Elena didn’t say much through the meal. She sipped the iced tea she’d ordered and laughed a couple of times, once at a wry joke Javier made, once at some remark of Rogan’s. Her laughter was low and rich. It sent a thrill through him, a kind of vibration that brought with it a feeling of promise.
Of anticipation.
As a rule, Rogan was a strictly disciplined man. He’d had to be, after his parents were gone. He made decisions and he stuck by them.
He’d made a decision about Elena the first moment he saw her: hands off. But when she laughed in that way of hers and when that dimple tucked itself in so temptingly beside her full mouth, well, he didn’t feel all that disciplined. He felt he stood on the brink of something heady and fine.
And all he wanted was a little shove, just enough to give himself permission to jump.
“Well?” Mercy said without even a hello. “You didn’t call me back.”
It was after five and Elena was at home, in her office at her condo, grading papers. She tucked the phone against her shoulder and set down her red marker. “You said you had Mommy and Me.”
“That was then. We got home two hours ago. But anyway. What did you think of Rogan Murdoch?”
“I liked him. There’s something…solid about him. And I think Dad likes him a lot.”
“But is Dad actually going to sell to him?”
“Nothing was said either way while I was with them—but yeah, that’s the feeling I get.”
“Wow.” Mercy made a low, disbelieving sound. “Really?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Dad. Retired. It’s hard to imagine.” Mercy’s voice held a note of sadness. “And I can’t quite get my mind around the idea of Cabrera Construction belonging to someone else. I mean, sometimes it seems as though our past, together, as a family…it’s just slowly fading away.”
Elena knew exactly what her sister was talking about. “I hear you. It’s depressing. But still. I can see it happening, see Dad selling, now I’ve met Rogan.”
“So what’s he look like?”
