The light switched to green, and he waited for a street performer in a Darth Vader costume to cross before pressing on toward the restaurant. He should pull the SUV into the valet at Caesars. Take Callie to one of the clubs, keep everything simple. It’s what he would do if she weren’t one of his oldest friends. Business partners or not, if she were any other woman, he would do the Vegas party circuit. Dinner at the Savoy inside Caesars and then dancing at Fizz or maybe down Las Vegas Boulevard to Hakkasan at the MGM.
But he passed the Caesars entrance and kept going down the Strip. Gage didn’t want to delve too deeply into why Callie was different. Why he’d suddenly changed the game plan that had been working for him for nearly ten years. Wine and dine, then show investors and business partners the fun of Vegas. Keep things light.
But he didn’t want to scream at Callie over the sound of a DJ in a club or be on display in the middle of a fancy restaurant where at least a few patrons would recognize him.
Traffic sped up as they left the Boulevard, and Gage deftly negotiated a couple of tricky turns to lead them out of the main flow of traffic and onto a quieter street leading into one of the suburbs.
“Why did you stay? You and Jase and Connor could have sold the ranch and started over somewhere with fewer bad memories.” Callie’s voice was quiet in the cab.
Gage turned the question over in his mind. Unlike his older brothers, he had more good memories of their childhood home than bad. He could separate the destruction gambling and drinking wreaked on their mother from the feeling of knowing you owned the land you walked. He’d hit bottom after his dad died, but he didn’t blame Vegas. He didn’t even blame Helena, not really. A part of him still blamed the casino bosses who extended lines of credit and invited her into their games despite knowing how addicted she was.
“Jase and Connor stayed to get me through college,” he said, skipping over the part where Jase escaped Vegas to play in poker tournaments around the globe in order to win Gage’s tuition and pay the liens and taxes on the ranch. “Somewhere along the way we all came to terms with what Vegas is and what it isn’t.”
“And what isn’t it?” Callie turned her head on the headrest, pinpointing him with her gaze.
His shoulders clenched at the question. What was Vegas not? It wasn’t the enemy, but that was an answer that would bring up at least one more question, and Gage wasn’t inclined to rip his life apart, not even for Callie.
“Vegas is too much for a getting-to-know-you dinner at a dive restaurant only locals care about,” he said instead, trying to keep things light. Light he could deal with. He didn’t want things to get dark, at least not tonight.
“Liar,” Callie said, but she smiled at him, dulling the sharpness of the word. “But I’m hungry so I’ll let it pass.”
Gage blew out a little breath, feeling the tension from Callie’s question easing away as he did. Callie didn’t need to know why he liked the vibrancy of the city or that when the loudness of the crowds and lights became too much, he escaped to the ranch. She only needed to know he wanted to invest in her business. Rebuilding the friendship they’d once shared was an interesting thought, though. And if it became more than it had once been … Things could be different now. He’d been a teenager then, unable to understand the gambling addiction that held his mother or the devotion that led his father back to her time after time. Now he was an adult who knew how relationships worked. He wasn’t in love with Callie, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have some fun together for a while.
He pushed the memories away, content, for the moment, to watch from the corner of his eye as Callie took in the darkening desert around them. She left her window down, and a cool desert breeze flowed into the truck. Vegas at night even smelled different, Gage decided. Or maybe it was Callie, leaning her elbow against the frame and taking in the night air. Her short, blonde hair blew across her face, hiding her closed eyes. With her mouth in a relaxed smile, she looked perfect. The sweet, funny girl he remembered, but also more. Callie was smart and driven, despite the setback of leasing office space in a bad location. She crossed one leg over the other, and his gaze was drawn to her slim thighs, delicate knees, and down her supple calves. Tiny ankles. Strappy, sexy sandals and red toenails with a—
Whoa!
Gage dodged the Escalade around a parked car, wrenching himself out of the daydream he shouldn’t have been having while driving. Shouldn’t have been having period, he reminded himself. Not with Callie.
Callie grabbed the armrest with one hand and Gage’s arm with the other. “What was that?”
“Coyote,” he said, thinking quickly. No need to tell her he’d nearly crashed because of her perfect legs. No need at all. “Or maybe a medium-sized dog.” She turned in her seat, looking behind them. “Don’t worry, we dodged it. It’s gone.”
“Thank goodness,” she said, settling back into her seat. Her tummy growled again, and she laughed. “I think you scared what was left of my composure away. Are we almost there?”
“Couple more blocks.” Gage pointed ahead to a red-and-white, curved arrow pointing inside a building that looked like it should have been condemned ten years before. Ten years ago, it had looked exactly the same. Gage often wondered if the owners preferred the run-down look to sleek and stylish. Didn’t make sense to him, but restaurant owners, in his experience, were a different breed. He parked along the curb in front of the burger joint and met Callie on the sidewalk. “Greasy, cheesy, and absolutely perfect.”
“I want cheesy steak fries, too.”
Gage reached for the door and opened it with a flourish. They placed their orders at the counter and turned to find a seat. Most of the main tables were filled with casually dressed families. A few groups of single men and women eyed one another in the back, probably scoping out the night’s action. He led the way to a booth with ripped vinyl seats; their feet crunched over peanut shells on the floor. A second later, the waitress brought out their drinks, looking them over as if they had sprouted two heads.
“I think we’re a little overdressed,” Callie whispered as she leaned across the table.
“You are wearing heels,” he whispered back and winked conspiratorially.
“Oh, no, I look fine. I blend. It’s your Hugo Boss and wing tips that put us over the top.” Callie spread a paper napkin over her lap and sat back. “When did you start wearing wing tips?”
Gage sipped his beer. “When I realized that no matter what my degree said, some people automatically equate cowboy boots with stupidity. Wing tips make the man in the business world.”
“But you own your own company. You make the rules.”
“Investors, city meetings. Very few people develop properties on their own.”
She was quiet for a moment. “Oh. I thought you were on your own. Gage Reeves, Conqueror of Las Vegas.” Callie sipped her light beer and continued. “You were the only one in the room. You haven’t made any calls to office staff. You met with Mr. Heck on your own.”
Only because Connor and Jase didn’t care how the money was spent as long as it was used to help locals build their own businesses. He liked it that way. Just as he liked reaching out to the old-timers, men who ran the casinos before they were owned by conglomerates, bankers, and entrepreneurs, when a project wasn't quite right for Reeves Brothers Entertainment. Those old-timers had a stake in Vegas because they were from Vegas, and each wanted to keep the best and brightest here in the town. He drank again. “Now that you know this isn’t just your old friend Gage offering you a good deal, will you sign?”
“I’ll think about it,” Callie said as the waitress arrived. She sat a basket filled with thickly cut French fries and cheese sauce between them, then offered Gage his rare steak burger and Callie a well-done hunk of what at one point had been a steak burger.
Gage held up his burger. “To thinking about it and the best burgers in Vegas.”
Callie picked up her own sandwich, cheese sliding off one side, and took a bite. “To Las
Vegas,” she said around the mouthful of food.
They ate in silence, devouring the burgers and finishing off the first round of beers. The waitress offered two more longnecks but Gage asked for soda instead. This was a working dinner, after all, and a Tuesday to boot. Plus, he was driving, and Callie’s presence was intoxicating enough. Hadn’t nearly taking out the tiny Honda proven that? Callie asked for water and then reached for a fry, her fingers brushing across his as Gage dipped a fry into the cheese sauce. Electricity zinged between them, stronger than the heat he felt when he placed his hand at the small of her back. Hotter than the moment when less than two feet had separated them in the elevator.
Callie lifted the fry to her pink mouth and bit. Gage felt his pants tighten and shifted against the worn vinyl seat.
“God, this is delicious,” she said.
Gage had to agree, but for different reasons. As good as the burger was, it was forgotten as he watched Callie enjoy the French fry and lick a little cheese from the corner of her mouth. She reached for another fry, dipped it in the cheese, and held her free hand under it so the sauce didn’t drip all over.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
Gage realized he was sitting there, mouth open, holding the now-cooled French fry in his hand. Staring at her. He popped the fry into his mouth and then drank, hoping the Coke would cool his reaction to Callie.
It didn’t. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, and it wasn’t just that she was actually eating the food before her rather than picking at it like his usual dates. It was a combination of the crazy day and the food and discovering his old friend was so much more than the girl he used to cheat off of in algebra.
“Why did you come back to Vegas? You were technically closer to New York. And between here and there are Chicago and Denver. Dallas, New Orleans. You had most of an entire continent.”
“It was home, despite the fact that my parents sold the ranch. Living back East was fun for a while, but Las Vegas was always home.”
“And the massage therapy?”
“A good way to work my way through school. Therapy appointments could be scheduled around my classes, and it paid well. I liked it, so when one of my professors assigned a project to create a business plan right down to the city where we would incorporate, I chose what I knew.” She finished another fry and pushed the almost empty basket to Gage. “Las Vegas is a tourist town. Tourists like to indulge and be entertained. Entertainers like to indulge themselves. A spa with cutting-edge, high-end treatments in a city like Las Vegas made sense.”
“And that’s why my building makes sense.”
She smiled at him and sipped her water. “Back to that so soon, are we?”
“We never really left it. I can tell you about every building space in Clark County that will fit your needs. Most of them are along the Strip or in Henderson, but there are a couple places in Paradise or North Vegas. None of them have the nearby complementary businesses that mine has.”
“You sound pretty sure of yourself.”
“I know my business.” Gage signaled the waitress to refill their glasses, and then he spoke again. “The casino location would be great if it was nearer the foot traffic. In that back corner, the only people who will find it will already be looking for it. Once you’re established, the appointment books will be filled months in advance, but you’re setting up. You need walk-in traffic for some of the less expensive treatments. You’ll get that traffic on the Strip.”
She was quiet for a long moment, shredding the napkin in her lap—thinking over how to say yes and make it appear like her idea all along, if Gage was any judge.
“You could open a secondary location in a hotel later. Maybe as part of your ten-year plan.” He waited, positive she would say yes. It was a simple conclusion, really.
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”
• • •
“It isn’t because of that favor thing,” Callie said, trying to explain to Gage why she was hesitant about not only taking his investment, but leasing from his company, without letting on that she couldn’t take her eyes off his full lips or the tiny bit of ketchup caught in one corner.
How she had wanted to jump across the console between the front seats several times throughout the day.
How, even in the dimly lit restaurant filled with families and without a hint of romantic lighting or food, she wondered what would happen if she reached her leg across the space under the table to run her toes along the inside of his pressed trousers.
Nope. No chance was she saying any of those things, so she fell back on words that hadn’t worked earlier today, hoping they would work this time.
“I am beyond thrilled that you are investing in my business. It is the only thing keeping my dream alive at this point.” She sucked on the straw, but the burn of the soda wasn’t soothing this time, and she grabbed for the glass of water she’d neglected most of the meal. “But I want to be perfectly clear. You’re my investor. We were friends as kids, and we can be friendly now, but you’ve done enough with the investment. There are things I need to do on my own.” Things she needed to do without feeling all itchy when she caught a whiff of his cologne or when he smiled that quirky grin. She needed to be clear, in her mind, where this was going. He was her investor, and an old friend. She didn’t want to add landlord to that mix; it would mean way too many meetings and phone calls and … contact. Investor. Someone she used to know. That was enough. No Eddie-like distractions. Not when there was so much on the line.
Gage sat back against the booth and folded his arms over his chest. “Are you kidding me right now? This is a prime location, and because I’m your investor, and we knew one another in high school, you’re not going to lease a building that is perfect for your business?” He blew out a breath that was about a centimeter from a snort in Callie’s estimation. “Our friendship consisted of nodding in the hall, studying together in the chem lab, and, more often than not, me double-checking my algebra and trig answers on finals with your paper. It has zero to do with investing in your business.”
“You cheated off me in high school?”
He shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. “We got the same answers, I just wanted to make sure that if I was getting them wrong I wasn’t alone.”
He’d cheated off her? It shouldn’t matter, not when high school was ten years ago, but somehow it did. More than that, he thought their entire high school relationship was about studying—and because their fathers had been friends years before. Her heart gave a little pang at that. As if they wouldn’t have had even the small relationship they did otherwise. Obviously those late-night library study sessions really were about studying for Gage.
Calm down, Cal, you already knew that. While you were mooning over how that hunk of hair fell perfectly over his forehead he was thinking about Schrödinger’s box.
One more reason for her to nip the little friendship between them in the bud. She’d already gone off her game once today with that impulsive stop for ice cream. Now she was actually considering leasing his building, when he was already investing in her company, which would mean more contact between them. Contact that would have her wondering about running her foot up the inside of his trousers while he nonchalantly ate a hamburger at a dive restaurant in North Las Vegas.
For God’s sake, he hadn’t even taken her to the top of the Stratosphere for their business dinner. She was getting all wrapped up in him again, just like in high school. Just like she’d allowed herself to get wrapped up in Eddie and started ignoring the late nights and the odd phone calls. Stopping this crazy attraction was the key, and she turned it in the lock once more.
“I appreciate the offer, Gage, but I need to do this my way. I don’t want you going out of your way or offering me things you wouldn’t offer anyone else.”
“I already said you could have the building at the same price you’re renting at now.”
Why wouldn’t he let this go? Investors wanted their investments to pan
out, but this was less than twelve hours in the works. The place in the hotel would work just fine.
Only, now that she’d seen Gage’s building, she wanted it. Badly. The hotel location was great, but Gage’s was off-the-charts perfect. Like it had been built with her spa in mind.
No, not going down that road. There were limits to the number of distractions Callie could take; wasn’t the last lease evidence of that? And Gage Reeves was a big, fat distraction dressed up in Hugo Boss with neon lights pointed right at his chiseled face. Shoulders. Butt. And, well, yeah, not going there.
The waitress dropped off the bill, and Callie grabbed for it before Gage could take it. “We’re going around in circles. I appreciate your offer, but investor or not, this is my business to run and I’ll make the decisions about how—and where—it’s run.”
She slid out of the booth and strode to the cash register near the front door, not waiting for Gage.
“I am your investor, Callie, and I’m going to tell you when I think you’re … ” He trailed off, and his face lost some of its color. Or maybe it was a trick of the dim lighting outside the burger place. “It’s your business. I’m just an advisor,” he said, grabbing Callie by the elbow and hustling her into his truck. “Why don’t you email me when you have the location in place? I’ll call your current landlord tomorrow and work out how the lease will be broken without any fallout on Holliday Spas.”
“You … I … uh, thank you,” Callie stuttered, trying to make sense of Gage’s quick about-face. She couldn’t make out his expression in the darkened truck and finally gave up. Gage could have his reasons for agreeing to her terms; she certainly had her own. And now there was no chance he would find out about her old—or renewed—crush, because they only had to communicate by text or email from here on out.
She ignored the tightening in her belly at the thought of not seeing Gage outside of work. It was for the best. She couldn’t afford to get distracted.
What the Bachelor Gets Page 6