as executive assistant to Reese Garrett started as usual. After a few minutes spent with her own assistant, Louise Dennison, an older woman with short, iron gray hair, Kenzie began her early-morning briefing with Reese to go over his daily schedule and discuss what he needed from her.
Seated across the desk from the CEO of Garrett Resources in his spacious office, she waited as he finished an unexpected phone call. With his wavy jet-black hair and amazing blue eyes, Reese was one of the best-looking men Kenzie had ever seen. Keenly intelligent and highly successful, he was a combination of virile masculinity and brooding reserve that attracted women of every age, shape, and size.
She could still see the faint scar on the side of his head near his temple from the helicopter crash that had killed two men and put Reese in the hospital.
At the time of the accident, Kenzie had worked for the company only five months, but in that time, she had come to admire and respect her employer. She could still recall the sharp stab of fear when his brother Chase had phoned to inform her of the accident.
Three days later, Reese was back at his desk, running the company with the iron control he was known for. Unfortunately, even now, four weeks after the incident, NTSB investigators remained unable to pinpoint the cause of the crash.
Reese’s phone call ended and his dark head came up, his intense blue eyes locking on her face. No matter how she worked to ignore it, Kenzie always felt the impact.
“Where were we?” he asked.
“You wanted me to reschedule your visit to the offshore platform.”
“Yes. I’ve put it off too long already.”
“I probably shouldn’t say this, but after what happened, I don’t blame you.”
The corner of his mouth kicked up. “Maybe not, but I want this deal done. We’ve been working on it for months. We need to finish our due diligence and make it end.”
“Yes, sir. Would you like me to go with you?” Traveling with Reese when he needed her assistance was part of her job, though he hadn’t asked her to go with him the day of the crash, thank God.
One of his rare smiles appeared. “You want to hold my hand in case I get scared in the chopper?”
Kenzie laughed, a little embarrassed he had hit so close to the truth. She liked him, admired him. He could have died that day. “I just thought you might need me.”
Reese shook his head. “Not this time. I won’t be discussing business while I’m out there. I just want to get a feel for the way things operate out on the rig.”
She nodded, not surprised since he had said something similar before. “I’ll make the arrangements.”
As she looked down at his calendar on her iPad, thinking of what she would need to rearrange, a soft knock sounded at the door. The knob turned and Louise stood in the opening.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but the police are on the phone. They’re looking for Kenzie. Apparently it’s some kind of an emergency.”
Kenzie shot up from the chair in front of Reese’s polished dark walnut desk.
“Put the call through on my line, Louise,” Reese said before she had taken a step. “She can talk to them in here.”
“Yes, sir.” As the older woman backed out of the room, Kenzie’s pulse began to pound. The police were calling. What could have happened? She prayed it wasn’t Griff, her nine-year-old son. Or, dear God, maybe it was Gran.
Her long dark hair swung forward as she leaned over to pick up the phone. “Hello...this is McKenzie Haines?”
“Ms. Haines, this is Sergeant Bothwell, Dallas Police Department. I’m afraid there’s been an accident involving your son.”
Kenzie’s fingers tightened around the receiver. “Is he... Is Griff all right?”
“He’s been taken to Baylor Medical at Uptown, ma’am. That’s all I know.”
Kenzie swallowed. “Baylor. Thank...thank you for calling.” Desperate to get to the hospital, she started to hang up, but Reese grabbed the phone out of her hand.
“This is Reese Garrett. I work with Ms. Haines. Can you tell us what happened to the boy?”
She couldn’t hear what Sergeant Bothwell said but Reese’s expression looked grim. She was trembling by the time he set the phone back down in the cradle.
“What did he say?”
“Griff was riding his bicycle in front of the house. He swerved to dodge a car, fell off, and hit his head. The babysitter called an ambulance.”
Suddenly light-headed, she swayed on her feet, gripping the edge