by Stacy Hoff
But his reason for namelessly running off was clear. Obviously he hadn’t been too interested in meeting her again. Otherwise, what would have been the big deal if he’d chucked a business card at her before he took off. She frowned. If he had tossed her said business card, the name should have read: ‘Mr. False Accuser.’ If Orland ever went to D.M.V. for a legal name change, he could stand in line with Morsik, the jerk at the bar. They could even be driving buddies.
She stole a glance at him through slit eyes. Ty was fidgeting. Looking uncomfortable, almost. Strange for a CEO, she didn’t think they broadcast body language when negotiating. Didn’t they take lessons on masking that kind of thing? Perfecting their poker face?
“I . . . I’m sorry.” Ty looked like he was choking the words out. Yet he sounded sincere. Warmer. Quieter. “Let’s start over, okay?” His voice sounded almost hopeful.
“I’m listening,” she finally answered. This man better act fast because he was striking out quick.
~ ~ ~
Like any astute businessman, Ty knew when to act fast. To make an offer so appealing it could not be refused. He got into the batter’s box, ready for anything Cat threw his way. “We had a great time downstairs at the bar, right?”
“I hope you’re not implying I now owe you my land because of it.”
Strike One.
“Of course not,” Ty said hastily. Despite his firm, confident words, he was sweating. “What I’m saying is, we may not bond on a business level, but we seem to connect on a personal level. Am I right?”
Cat remained silent.
Ty arched an eyebrow at her, daring a confirmation.
“Yes,” she relented.
“Then if you won’t let me buy your land, our business transaction has concluded for tonight. Correct again?”
“Yes. Correct.” Her eyes narrowed, probably wondering what was he getting at.
“Great. We’re leaving. Together. If you want to take a coat, get it and let’s go.”
“What? Don’t take me wrong, I’m glad you’re giving up so easily, but I’m . . . surprised.”
Foul ball.
“Surprised? Why?”
“You’re not going to harangue me about my land anymore?” Her eyes were wide. She seemed afraid to believe him, yet hopeful.
Well, he was trustworthy. Mostly. “Oh, I might.” Ty grinned slyly. “But tonight both of us are done talking business.”
Slowly she smiled back at him.
Home run.
Chapter 4
“So it’s agreed,” Ty said. “Let’s drink to it.” Without waiting for a response, he got up to offer her the whiskey bottle sitting on a sideboard. “This okay with you?” he asked, holding up the bottle.
“No, thanks. I’d rather keep my wits about me. Nothing personal.”
“How unfair. My wits left the minute you opened the door. Mind if I help myself?”
“Only if you’re not celebrating prematurely.”
“You don’t want to sell your land. I get that.”
“Then what exactly do you think you’re drinking to?” She put her hands on her hips and raised a single eyebrow.
“To my having your delightful company for the evening. No strings attached. No hidden agenda. No expectations.” He gave her a tentative smile. “You seem to be a refreshing change of pace from the stuffed suits I’ve been speaking to, and I thought you’d be up for a break.”
“The biggest break I need is a break from Orland Premier Properties, Inc. They’ve been hounding me to sell some land I value very much.”
“They are?” Ty gasped in mock horror. “Those fiends!”
She was obviously trying not to laugh, and failing miserably. “You appear to be a gentleman. And you are charming, when you want to be. I’ll give you that. A break from the convention would be fun.” She threw him a knowing look. “Are you sure your wife or girlfriend won’t get the wrong idea?”
“They might,” he conceded, “if I had either. Since I don’t, and it seems clear you’re also unattached, shall we head out into the sights and sounds of Las Vegas?” He furrowed his eyebrows and quickly added, “Of course, I understand if you don’t trust me. We’ve only just met.”
“Promise you won’t say one word about my land? Ever again?”
Ty knew he should lie. Promise her that and anything else she wanted to hear. But every business instinct he had was outshouted by what? Conscience? Caring? Damn it all to hell. Now was not the time or the place. If he had any brains and business integrity he’d promise her the damned stars in the sky if he could get his hands on her land. Instead, he looked at her dead-on while he said, “My promise is good only until midnight. Tomorrow Orland Properties will pursue the deal. But for tonight, let’s just be regular people, okay?” He expected a verbal punch to his gut and tensed up, waiting for the blow. “Please?” he heard himself ask. He couldn’t believe he’d said that. Ty Orland never begged. What was happening to him?
Catherine “Cat” Warner, as he now knew her full name, was clearly a mythical Siren come to life. He wasn’t in Las Vegas. He was in ancient Greece. Totally ensnared by her charms.
~ ~ ~
About to say no, Cat saw a man whose eyes were filled with promise, sincerity, and heat. Despite her best effort, the “no” died on her lips. Reluctantly, she decided to enjoy her night out and this time not cave. She could handle this. She could handle him. She was all grown up. Right?
But could she really deal with a powerhouse like Ty? As soon as the clock struck midnight their deal would be off. He’d be back to hammering her into doing what he wanted her to do. Then it’d be like reliving the time of her pre-engagement, her parents insisting they knew what she should do. Ty would be dangling the million dollars at her. Filling her ears with tales of what all the money could do. She’d have to block it all out because only she could know what was best for her. Her parents lacked Ty’s sexy flare, but they were otherwise one and the same. “Okay. Let’s go,” her mouth said of its own volition.
She was pleased to see his large smile mirror her own. It made him look all the more debonair. Handsome. Even a little bit wicked, given the gleam in his eye. His expression was filled with promise, excitement, and perhaps something a little bit naughty. A night of possibilities was as wide open as a flower in full bloom. His gaze was so intense, Cat felt her skin heat again.
“May I?” he inquired, taking her hand. Without waiting for her response, he led her down the elevator, through the hotel’s lobby, and out onto a side street.
~ ~ ~
They walked outside the hotel until they were a few steps away from the Vegas Strip. The night was warm and the air windless and still. The weather here in Las Vegas was so different from San Francisco. She and Vanessa would often stroll Fisherman’s Wharf at night, but this time of year they’d both be wearing coats. Tonight she walked in a milder temperature and with a different walking partner. The last one in the world she would have guessed. Cat glanced over at her handsome escort and wondered what alternate universe she was in. Beam me up, Scotty!
Cat gave her “date” credit. Ty certainly had a ton of things going in his favor. It’d be hard work to keep her wits about her and not succumb to his charms too quickly. Preferably, at all.
She couldn’t quite get a handle on his complicated personality. He had an ego all right. She was sure of that. She wondered if he was a big enough person to realize his success in the hotel industry at the ripe young age of thirty-three was, at least in part, due to a hand up from his family. She had gotten at least that much information about him off the Internet.
Then again, being in the same position herself, she was no one to judge harshly. At least she knew to be grateful, something her trust-fund friends and family sometimes struggled with. Was this the case with Ty? She ho
ped not. Having an ego was one thing. Being a self-important, entitled jerk was another. Unconsciously her brain conjured up an image of Rudy.
The chances of Ty Orland being a down-to-earth, good person were slim at best. If the last ten years had taught her anything, it was that a good man was hard to find. A good, decent man always dealt straight with others. Never falsely built himself up. Was honest in dealing with people. Had integrity. At least that what’s her father always said.
Being the victim of vicious lies herself, back when she’d been too young and too naïve to defend herself, she doubly agreed with her father’s philosophy. Unfortunately, it was the only philosophical point on which they’d ever been in agreement. They sure as heck hadn’t agreed about the concept of marriage and Rudy. To her, Rudy was the embodiment of everything a man was not supposed to be. But ironically, to her father, Rudy was perfect husband material.
But the real problem was that maybe Rudy was also the embodiment of what every man actually was. After her public and very humiliating dumping, Cat hadn’t been in any rush to find out.
Still, despite the horrible history, the prospect of hitting the town with Ty Orland sounded enticing. He was so polite about leading her out into the night. There was something so intimate in the way he placed his hand over the small of her back. The move was protective, almost. Seductive, definitely.
Not that she’d get in over her head with him. Just have some fun. Maybe even get to establish a solid connection with someone who could be a valuable business contact. What was the harm?
“Where are we going?” she asked, a giggle escaping her lips. Darn, a giggle? Hopefully she didn’t sound like a hick. Or a child. Either way, her long blond locks would need to be tied in pigtails if she kept it up. Who the heck giggled at thirty-one years of age? She fought back a cringe.
But Ty seemed not to notice her discomfort over her gaff. “Want to check out one of Vegas’ hotels together?” He lowered his voice and spoke seductively. “Get my first-hand impression up-close and personal?”
~ ~ ~
Ty struggled to keep the grin off his face. If he lost control of his expression, his smile would loom larger than the Luxor’s pyramid. He didn’t want Cat to think he was smug, like he was somehow entitled to her time. But self-control was tough.
The lascivious part of him was quite pleased she was with him. He was a guy, after all. If he was lucky, he’d get both her land and her body. But the more gentlemanly part was wondering if this was the best idea. Not only did that seem a little manipulative, it also could backfire. In several ways. One, she might reasonably feel used, which would cause her to hate him. Two, if she hated him, he really would never get her property. Three, one night making love to her could very easily become addictive. The worst outcome by far was number three. Not the sex part, obviously, but the outcome. Worse than an addiction was a craving that could never be filled. Wanting to see her again would put him in that position.
Unconsciously, his brow wrinkled. See, this is always my damned problem. Overthinking. Analyzing situations to death. Staring at hard facts. Numbers on charts. Graphs with colorful bar lines. Embracing all things that lacked emotion. It gave him distance. Let him be the businessman.
He was just like his cousin’s family. Business was all that mattered to them, too. Even in their personal life. Marriage, for instance, was best done as a merger of empires. As was done in Old Europe. If you actually wound up liking your spouse, then hey, all the better.
His parents, however, had married for love, and that had its own ramifications. Financial stress had given his mother dangerously high blood pressure until the disease ultimately took her life. His father was now in a permanent medical facility due to his severe stroke. The cost was astronomical, but the place was state-of-the-art. The power of love obviously had no abating effect on one’s physical health.
Business deals were firm. Solid and logical. Love, on the other hand, was crazy. Emotion-filled. Unsure. Unstable. Love came and went like the wind. Power, on the other hand, was forever. Unless of course, he tanked the business. If he did, this aspect of his life would be transient, too. Which was why he had a business partner. To bounce ideas. Divide up the financial risk. Share the burden with someone. Of course, having a trustworthy partner was crucial. That’s why he was glad to have a partner already in the family. His first cousin, Rudy. Someone who had been willing to back him when he needed it most.
But maybe his cousin was around too much. Ty cursed when he saw Rudy’s phone number flash across his smartphone screen.
“I apologize, Cat, but I’ve got to take this call.”
He saw Cat give an understanding nod and then clicked onto the call. “Hey, Choco. What’s up? . . . Hmmm, okay. No. All right . . . yes, I’m listening, but can we talk about it later? Why? Because I have a date, that’s why.” Ty hung up and shot Cat a smile. “Sorry about that, I’m all yours now.”
“Choco?” Cat sounded amused. “With an odd name like that, you must be talking to some movie star’s kid. You know, like ‘Dweezil’ or ‘Blue Ivy.’”
He bit back a grin. “Never thought about it like that. I do know his parents well. Trust me, they are odd, but they’re definitely not celebrities. And ‘Choco’ is a nickname.”
“The nickname sounds like a spread for toast. Could be a new flavor from Smucker’s.” She donned an announcer’s voice. “With a name like Choco, it has to be good.” She burst out laughing.
“Hope this won’t disappoint you, but no, this ‘Choco’ is not edible. Unless my business partner has really changed his lifestyle in the past seventy-two hours.”
“You never know. A lot can happen in three days,” she deadpanned. “So why do you call him Choco?”
“Because I like to torture my cousin.”
“Choco is your business partner and your cousin?”
“Yep. One and the same. We’ve got a lifetime of history between us.” He deliberately neglected to mention the history was sporadic at best. “When my cousin was six years old, he tried to eat an entire chocolate bar in one bite. Since I was a much older and wiser eight-year-old, I told him not to do it. But he did, and it smeared all over his face. On his clothes. Onto the Persian rug. I thought my aunt was going to kill him. I’ve been calling him Choco ever since to let him know I’m still older and wiser.”
“Does the reminder work?”
“Not really. But I like to keep hope alive.” Ty laughed. “I’m also keeping alive the hope we’re going to have a great time tonight. We’re headed to a place I know first.”
~ ~ ~
Cat squinted from the brightness of the Strip’s neon lights. The enormous boulevard was crowded with tourists, street performers, partiers, and a smattering of stuffed suits obviously attending one convention or another. Like them.
Not that anybody would be noticing them in particular. The neon lights made it impossible for anyone to do anything other than stare at the hotels. Not only were the Strip’s hotels spectacular with their grandiose façades lit up, but their outdoor attractions glowed, too.
All this colorful light pounded down on the boulevard, on the people, on the street festivities. Everything was awash in a powerful glow, from the water fountains at the Bellagio, to a volcano at the Mirage, to the replicated Eiffel Tower of The Paris Hotel.
The sounds of the Strip were almost as noticeable as the sights. Noise emanated from passersby, laughing, shouting, drinking. Sounds from street traffic. Car horns. People calling cabs. The screech of buses as they pulled over for passengers. All the hotels’ sounds threaded throughout the Strip, too. Pirate calls coming from Treasure Island. Rat Pack music spouting from the Bellagio in time with their fountains. “Luck be a Lady” was playing. Appropriate, since Cat hoped for a night filled with good luck, too.
The Strip was almost an assault on Cat’s eyes and ears
. Until another sense got overwhelmed, smell. There didn’t seem to be anyone on their street corner not reveling in it.
“Honey-roasted peanuts.” Cat murmured the words like a lover coming to call.
“You smell them, too?”
Ty looked like he was joining her in this sudden longing. She watched him inhale deeply as if the roasted peanut smell was more enticing than any perfume. He pointed to a street cart at the corner, surrounded by five people with orange day-glow tee shirts that read: Our Annual Jackson Family Reunion.
“Heck, yeah, I smell them,” Cat agreed. “Hmmm, think we can break through the Jackson Five and score some of those peanuts?”
“I think I can persuade them to share the cart’s bounty with us.” Grabbing Cat’s hand, he pulled her toward the cart. The family smiled at them. They were obviously enjoying their treat. The peanut bags they held up gave off wafts of warmth and burnt sugar.
Cat inhaled loudly, making the little boy in the Jackson Five family laugh. She winked at him. His bright orange shirt engulfed his tiny frame as he shoved a whole handful of nuts into his mouth.
“How do they taste?” she asked him.
“Weally gooth,” he answered solemnly.
“What do you think,” Ty asked the little boy. “Should this lady and I try some?”
“Yeth, they’re greath.”
“Good to know.” Ty turned to ask the white-haired, white-aproned cart vendor for six bags. Moments later Ty handed a bag to Cat and gave the other bags to the boy and his family.
“Hey, thanks, you’re all right,” the tall teenage boy in the family replied.
“Thank you,” his mother responded more formally.
“You’re welcome. Have a wonderful night,” Ty called over his shoulder. He was already leading Cat to the intersection, clearly itching for the light to change.