After the Music
this business was best taken care of now. Thorn was the kind of man, from all description, who wouldn't mind walking up on the stage right in the middle of her nightclub performance to question her.
    "Uh, I'll announce you," the blonde stammered, then buzzed the intercom. "Mr. Thorndon, there's a..." She put her hand over the receiver. "Your name, please?"
    "Tell him it's Sabina," she replied in the clear voice that was her trademark.
    "...Miss Sabina here. She says you're expecting her. Yes, sir." The receptionist hung up. "Mr. Thorndon will see you. Go right in."
    Sabina was waved to a door beside the desk. Smiling coyly at the blonde, she opened the door and poked her head in.
    Immediately she regretted the lack of time to change into something more suitable. She'd have to bluff her way through. As usual.
    "Here I am, your worship," she told the man behind the desk as she closed the door breezily behind her. "Fire away, but make it fast. I've got a performance in less than forty-five minutes."
    He rose from the desk like a shark slicing through water, all sleek, smooth pursuit. The tan suit he was wearing did nothing to disguise the huge muscles of his arms, chest and legs. As he moved around the desk toward her, she felt his eyes sweep over her, as if she were being brushed all over with a flammable liquid.
    His disposition was as cold as she remembered it. Sabina tried to block the previous night out of her mind while his blue, unblinking eyes were riveted on her.
    A finger hit the intercom button. "No calls, honey."
    "Yes, sir," came the edgy reply. Then there was silence while the oil magnate did what he was best at-intimidation.
    He folded his arms across his chest and his blackened eye narrowed as he studied her graceful figure. "You do advertise it, don't you?" he murmured with a faint smile.
    "This is my stage costume. Al said you wanted to see me immediately, and I just dropped everything and rushed right over. Satin is my trademark," she reminded him,
    "So I've heard. How much do you want? What'll it cost for you to promise to leave Al alone?"
    "Characteristically blunt," she remarked, eyeing him. "Have you ever found anything your money couldn't buy? Besides that oil refinery, I mean. Obviously, it's much more important than a little thing like Al's happiness."
    An eyebrow jerked and the blackened eye squinted. She remembered that telltale signal, but she ignored it. "I hear through the grapevine that Al flew to Savannah to tell you about that singing engagement in my nightclub."
    "Your nightclub?" she asked. "I understood that it was jointly owned by the two of you, and your mother."
    At the mention of his mother, his body went rigid. "Al caused one hell of an argument last night. I do not want you at my ranch over the holidays. That's the one place I don't have to suffer women."
    Her chin lifted. "I like Al," she told him. "And if he wants me to join him for Easter, I'll be delighted to accept." As she said that, she wondered vaguely why Al had invited her when Jessica had his whole heart. Was he trying to put up a smoke screen?
    "Listen to me, you half-baked adventuress," he said suddenly. "I'm not having my brother taken over by a wild-eyed rock singer with eyes for his bankbook!" Moving toward her, he reached into his vest pocket, caught her roughly by the arm, and stuffed a piece of paper into the valley between her high breasts. "You take that and get the hell out of my brother's sight. I make a bad enemy. Remember it!"
    He escorted her to the door and shoved her out of his office. "I'll make your apologies to my mother," he added sarcastically. The door slammed shut behind her.
    The blonde stared at Sabina who stood there trembling, her face red and hot with hurt and humiliation, her eyes brimming with tears of fury. Just like old times, she thought wildly, just like my mother. She reached blindly for the check-she knew it was a check. Her trembling fingers unfolded it. It was made out to her, $20,000
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