One More Taste (One and Only Texas #2)(8)
Knox snorted through his nose at the thought. What a pile of crap. Ty Briscoe had spent thirty-five years shunning his only brother and his brother’s family. And that equestrian center he’d so generously footed the bill for had been yet another nail in his company’s financial coffin. Some family man he was.
“Eh,” Shayla said. “I prefer the city. Though I do wish I were in Dulcet with you so I could watch you stick it to Uncle Ty.” She infused the words Uncle Ty with venom that caught Knox off guard. Shayla was one of the most optimistic people he knew. She was born with the unique gift of being secure in her bones. The strife in their house hadn’t affected her like it had Knox and Wade. She’d risen above it all. Or so Knox had thought.
“I wish you were here, too, Shay. And for the record, the only things that are going to happen to our dear Uncle Ty will all be of his own doing.” All Knox was planning to do was give the elaborate house of cards that Ty and Grandpa Tyson had built a gentle flick that had been a long time coming. “And the best part is, when I’ve done what I came here to do, everyone involved will walk away with richer bank accounts—even our dear Uncle Ty, even if his pride and reputation are ruined for good.”
Shayla made a grumbling sound of protest at allowing Ty any sort of profit, but Knox’s attention was snagged by a splash and a silvery form disappearing into the rippling water. “Oh, shit, I think that was it. Either I just saw the fish that knocked me over, or there’s a hell of a lot of freakishly large fish in this lake.”
“Guess you’d better learn how to use a rod and reel,” Shayla said.
“I plan to.” Just like he planned to eat every last bite of the rabid piranha that had attacked him for dinner.
“I still can’t believe you own a lake,” Shayla said.
“I don’t own it. It’s county property.”
“But you’re the only private residence bordering the lake, and Briscoe Ranch comprises the rest of the lakefront real estate, so close enough. Good luck today.”
“Thanks, sis.”
As the call ended, he gave the resort another long look. Today was his first day as the on-site second-in-command to Ty. It was a role he’d fulfilled enough times before with other companies he’d bought, so this was nothing new and only slightly challenging. Besides, his measly ten percent stake in the company—compared to his equity firm’s forty-one percent and Ty’s forty-nine percent—was only temporary. Patience was the name of the game right now.
The only wildcard in his day was whether his truck would allow him to drive all the way to the resort’s employee parking lot without stalling out. More than likely, there was a perfectly good explanation—one that didn’t involve ghosts—for why he had yet to successfully drive the Chevy onto Briscoe Ranch property. The employees’ entrance, the main gate, day, night—it didn’t matter what tricks Knox had tried, his truck stalled out every time, sometimes feet from the gate, other times, miles.
Knox gave his new empire one last look, then pushed off into a jog once more.
Two hours later, Knox stood in the employee courtyard behind the office suites and dabbed at his perspiring forehead with his pocket square. His walk from the employee entrance gate where his Chevy had died to his office had to be nearly a mile. A mile wasn’t usually a distance that made him break a sweat, but the sunny morning combined with the exertion of lugging his box of office supplies and personal effects and his messenger bag had made for an unexpectedly arduous trek. At least he’d managed to roll the truck onto the shoulder of the road before embarking on the trek over the resort grounds.
Once he’d eliminated all traces of exertion, he put on his game face and opened the office door. The time was still early, so the office was mostly empty, but it didn’t take long for the smattering of workers to notice him. Some stared, while others returned his nods of greeting. An empty secretary desk sat like an abandoned guard post in front of his office door. As was the case every time he took on a new project far from the equity firm’s headquarters in Dallas, he chose a new secretary, hiring from within, someone to fill him in on the nuts and bolts—and the gossip—of the company. That would be task number one today, as soon as he’d set his office up to spec.
The office he’d been given shared a wall with Ty’s, which meant it boasted the same expansive view of the resort grounds and golf course from wall-to-wall windows. His eyes were on those windows as he entered, which was why he started at the sight of Ty leaning back in Knox’s chair, his boots resting on the desk top.
“You’re late,” Ty said by way of a greeting.
It was only eight o’clock. Not exactly late, but not as early as Knox had hoped. “You’re in my chair.”
With an amused crackle of laughter, Ty rose. “Catch!” A ring of keys jangled as they arced through the air.
Knox scrambled to catch the flying keys one-handed while balancing his office supply box in the other hand. “Keys to the resort?”
“You got it. We’ll swing by HR on our tour today, and they’ll get you fixed up with a universal keycard, but those will work for now.”
Tour? Knox slid his box onto the nearest horizontal surface, a small table holding a coffee caddy and an unopened bottle of scotch. He pocketed the keys, then tipped the bottle back, reading the label. Expensive scotch. Nice.