The Texan's Baby (Texas Rodeo Barons)

“Anything for the boss,” he replied, taking a seat across the desk from her. “How’s your dad?”

“Doing well,” she replied, picking up her tea and trying to look relaxed. Mark Baker didn’t like her. She knew that. It didn’t help that he was the football all-star guy with the thousand-watt smile and a near-perfect GPA. She’d worked hard to find perfection and never really found it, so seeing it across the desk from her was plenty intimidating. “I had dinner out at the ranch last night. He’s not used to taking a backseat for this long, but we talk every night about what’s coming up. No surprises that way.”

Translation: you’re not just dealing with me here.

They spent twenty minutes going over the latest figures, changes to the operational budget that made her head spin, and when her eyes were starting to glaze over, he tapped his reports together, put them to the side and pulled out another file.

“I thought you should see this,” he said, handing over a sheet.

She picked it from his fingers and stared down at numbers and a graph. “Our stock?” She looked up at him. “We knew it would take a hit when Dad was hurt. Yes, the stock price went down but less than we expected by a couple of percentage points.”

“The press release was a good idea,” he conceded. “And as much as it pains me to admit it, having someone with the last name Baron step into Brock’s place was a good move.”

“So what’s your issue?” she asked, her stomach growling. She’d had a bowl of oatmeal and fruit that Chris had insisted she eat before leaving for the office, and already she was hungry again. With a bit of a start, she realized that this was the first morning in several weeks now that she hadn’t been sick at all.

“Look at it again,” he instructed.

“What am I looking for?” She felt stupid asking it. “I see that our stock price has rebounded a bit since the accident. That’s good, right?”

He took the paper back and clicked on his pen, circled a spot, and handed it back.

“Trading activity?”

“Someone’s buying up stock, and getting it at a pretty good price. Normally that would be a good thing, but something twigs me the wrong way about it. Considering our position right now, and the fact that after your dad’s accident, people were selling off their stock...this is too big a volume to be coincidence.”

“Are you sure?”

He gave her a long, cool stare. “No, I’m not sure. But it was enough of a jump to raise a red flag for me.”

“Why would someone do that?”

He sighed. “Because we’re vulnerable? Because they have insider information? I can’t know for sure. If it’s a publicly traded company, they have a while before they have to divulge their purchase to their stockholders.”

She forgot about his smugness for a moment. “What are you really thinking, Mark?”

“I’m thinking someone wants a piece of Baron Energies. And they’re hoping that their purchase of our stock will go unnoticed because we’re not focused at the moment.”

But he was focused. For all his faults, Lizzie knew one thing. Mark Baker was very, very good at his job.

“Thanks for bringing it to my attention.”

“That’s my job,” he answered. “And I’ll stay on top of it, keep running the numbers, see what I can find out. Maybe it’s nothing, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“What can I do?” She swallowed her pride and met his gaze. “What should I do?”

He frowned. “Lizzie, you know I didn’t support the idea of you sitting in the driver’s seat.”

“I know you don’t like me....”

“It’s not that at all.” His blue eyes met hers directly. “This was the reason. You’re great at the human resources area, a whiz with manpower. You’re good with the press. You’re a great face for the company—a young, successful, independent woman from a strong family. But this side of things? This isn’t your strong suit and we both know it.”

Ouch. His assessment stung even if she secretly believed he was correct. “That’s why I’m surrounded by people who are all brilliant in their areas of expertise. That’s why I trust them.”

He smiled a little. “Right. I got the message.”

“And I got yours, Mark. I know we’re not besties or anything, but I’d like to think we both have the best interests of Baron at heart.”

“Me, too. Do you want me to talk to your father about this?”