“What? I apologized. You jumped on top of me.”
Liz slugged him in the arm. “You shouldn’t of opened the door.”
“I was only protecting you. I know you like Oscar. I knew that was his truck.” Bill walked over to search for something on his nightstand. “If it was another woman you’d want me to interrupt.”
“Shit Bill, you’re always in the wrong place at the wrong time.” She fell back on the bed and stared up at the rock posters on the ceiling that’d been pinned up there since high school. “And you sent Chris to the Buckeye. I don’t need him knowing my business. That place. Oscar. It was mine without Chris. And you let him in. You never stop meddling in my life.”
Bill didn’t react to her accusation. It was as if he wasn’t listening. “Hey.” Liz flung her arm out, hitting him on the shin, which was all she could reach since he was sitting on his nightstand.
“Yeah, sorry about all of whatever you were saying. Did you want another chance with Oscar?”
“What are you talking about?”
“His truck’s outside.”
“Serious?” She bolted up and flung herself at the headboard. She flew open the curtains behind Bill. His room faced the front of the house and the street, where Oscar’s red pickup was parked at the curb. “Why is—he—here? Why is he here?”
“Let’s find out.” Before she could stop him, Bill opened the window and yelled “Hey Buddy!”
“Shit! Don’t do that.” She jumped back, releasing the sheer panel. But she could still see clear enough through the panel to see Oscar waving up from the street.
Damn, he looks sexy in the morning.
With no where to hide, she bunched the curtains to one side, tapped on the glass and wiggled her fingers down to him. His face lit up and he blew her a small kiss. “Stall him.”
“Don’t move,” Bill said to Oscar.
Liz slipped into the bathroom to check her hair and noticed her outfit, practically pajamas and she was at Bill’s house.
How could this situation get worse? Meet a good looking bartender, catch his attention, reject him, then get caught in pajamas at another man’s house. Unbelievable.
“Did you say these are clean?” She threw off her sweatshirt and picked out a button down plaid shirt.
“Now we’re talking. A threesome,” Bill said, nodding his head.
The doorbell rang. She was out of time.
“Come on up,” Bill yelled out the window.
She picked up a well worn sandal and pummeled Bill upside the head as hard as she could. “Grow up.” She went to the window to yell at Oscar not to come up, but he was already inside. “Damn you,” she expelled to Bill, racing out the bedroom door, furiously buttoning the shirt and fumbling down the front stairs. She emerged at the bottom where Oscar was listening to Mr. Collins rave about the game on the television.
“What a surprise. After last night I . . .What are you doing here?”
“Did I interrupt something?” he questioned, tugging on the plaid shirt, she’d buttoned crooked.
“With Bill? No, his mom makes great bacon.” She pushed him toward the door. “Funny story. I’ll tell you about it outside.” She laced her arm in his and pushed him out the doorway. “Bye Bill,” she yelled, exiting and allowing the door to shut behind them on it’s own.
Chapter Twenty Four
Oscar was more than surprised to find Liz at Bill’s. If he had to guess, Bill had to have a hangover. He found it a little hot that Liz would confront him in that state. By this point, it was mid-morning since an unexpected business call woke him at seven.
“Sorry about last night.” Liz wrung her hands up near her chest. “I don’t know which part I’m more embarrassed about. Before or after Bill interrupted us.”
“Completely understandable. No worries.” Oscar walked Liz across the street to his truck.
He pulled out a huge bouquet of mixed blooms. “Do these say I hope we’re still on the same page?”
Liz took the flowers and inhaled the sweet aroma. “They’re beautiful.”
“I hoped you’d think so.” He took her hand in his and swung it back and forth. What he had to say next was awkward and he hoped the flowers would stop her from hating him. “I know this is bad timing, but I have to go out of town on business for a few days.”
“Oh—out of town? Not for the Buckeye I guess.” He witched at her accusation that the Buckeye was his only job. “Of course you have something else,” she backpedalled. “Bartending isn’t your only job. You’re part time.”
“I thought that was clear. This trip is unavoidable and will likely be boring. I own some property that I have to go check on.” He pulled her in for a hug, even though she kept the flowers between them. “I have your number. I’ll call you later today.”
“Yeah, well I’m going to go put these in a vase.” She thumbed over her shoulder.
This wasn’t the bye he anticipating leaving her with. He kept her close, rubbed his cheek against hers, and she leaned into his lips. Their kiss was comfortable. He wanted it to be more, but understood why she was holding back. “Well.” He slipped his hand in the driver’s door handle and opened it. She stepped back. Now the door was between them. “I’ll keep in touch.” To his delight, she leaned around and kissed him once more.
“Have a safe trip. They really are beautiful.” She cradled the bouquet closer.
“So are you.” He winked and hopped in the truck.
The drive to the airport was long. The image from his rear view mirror of Liz standing in her yard with the flowers stayed with him all the way. He wished he could’ve taken Liz with him this time, but how could he explain a private jet ride to Las Vegas.
Why am I hiding this from her? Grant’s right. She should be with me on this trip.
He struggled with his dilemma, which didn’t diminish even at thirty six thousand feet.
After landing at the McCarran airport, Oscar’s travel assistant escorted him to the limousine. “How have you been sir?” Faith, the slim assistant asked.
“Well, thank you.” Oscar twisted out of the dinner jacket he had exchanged his jeans jacket for. “Does it ever cool down here?”
“Not until January sir,” Faith answered, looking up from her tablet. “I see you’re booked at the Hilton off the strip. Will you be needing tickets to any shows while you’re in town?”
“It’s just business this time. Do you know if Mr. Chaplain has touched down?”
Faith tapped and swiped on her tablet. “He arrived last night. Should we reroute to the restaurant?”
“No, but if we could head to the bank I’d like to take care of some business there first before checking into the hotel.” He hated traveling with cash, but he hated paying with cards even more.
“Fine sir.” Faith picked up a phone receiver in the wall of the vehicle. “Make a stop at the bank first,” she said, her voice echoing from the front seat.
“Thank you, Faith. I won’t be long, then you can return to the airport with the limo from the bank.”
“Are you sure? I can accompany you to your hotel?” She always offered this service to her clients. He was single, and she wore a huge wedding ring on her finger, so any implied suggestions were mute.
“Can I ask you a question?” He scanned the pretty brunette for any uncomfortableness. If she was available, he might’ve asked her out before he met Liz. “How did you meet your husband?”
“He works for Phoenix Aviation too. A technical advisor.”
“So he’s not one of the billionaires you ride along with on trips.”
“Hell no. Tim is a good for nothing asshole.” She scooted closer to Oscar and twisted the big ring off her finger. “This is fake and we’re divorced.”
“Serious? Why do you keep up the act?”
“Wives get jealous if I look too available and the men tip more thinking they can seduce a married woman to cheat.”
They’d arrived at the destination, Faith turned the tablet to Oscar, he signed the invoice for the ride by swirling his finger across the screen. “I’ll call your service for the return trip. Thank you for flying with Phoenix Aviation.”
“One more question. Would you ever forgive a man for lying to you?”
“It’s why I left Tim. No. Next time it’s all up front all the time. I had that in a relationship once. Threw it away.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
She shrugged. “No going back. Next time I’m nabbing one of you guys.” She pinched Oscar’s cheek. “A billionaire all the way.”
“See you on the next trip, Faith.”
Oscar’s time in the bank passed pretty quick. He could’ve kept Faith and the limo waiting outside. Most of the time inside was spent with the bank manager who wouldn’t stop kissing his ass. The fuss that man made over the withdraw of a few thousand dollars was astounding. It’s not like he was losing anything, the monthly income on Oscar’s account balance was enough to keep the small bank afloat.
The ride to the hotel couldn’t come fast enough. But the ass kissing hadn’t stopped at the bank. The hotel concierge sent a private car to pick Oscar up. Upon his arrival at the hotel he was escorted by two valets into a back office to check in. The room was decked out with plush chairs, fresh flowers, and mood lighting. All the commotion over his presence made Oscar so uncomfortable each time he visited that he swore on the next trip he’d sleep at the Motel Lodge. Then he’d curl up under the high thread count sheets and retract his statement. Some luxuries of being a billionaire were too great to give up.
Without going to his room or changing clothes Oscar headed over to a secluded familiar place in the hotel. Wearing his standard denim button down he felt more at home in the casino bar then he did in any high roller’s lounge. He picked out a barstool at the counter and flagged down the bartender.
“What can I get you?”
“A bottle of water and a glass of ice.” After a look at his watch, he decided he had plenty of time to call Liz before his meeting with Mr. Chaplain.
His heart tingled with the first dialing of her number. He hovered a moment, looking at her contact pic before hitting the call button. “Hello?”
“Oscar.” Liz’s voice beamed, sweetly. “How’s your trip going?”
“The flight was smooth. I’m on my way to lunch. How are you?”
“Still planning Bill’s demise.”
“You know you’ll forgive him.” He stopped and took his drink order. “I miss you.”
“It’s only been a few hours.”
“Can’t help it, but I’ll give you time.”
“Just a smidgen please.”
“Okay, I’ll see you in a few days.” He hung up.
I’m pushing her too hard. Damn, why don’t you just slow down. But it’s so hard. She’s so perfect.
He took a sip of his water and for the first time in years wished it was something stronger.
Better get going.
He paid his tab and started over to the concierge to arrange for a ride to his meeting.
Chapter Twenty Five
An extra large tip kept the driver quiet for the ride over to the site of Oscar’s new restaurant, Camille’s. Revamping the previously failed bar location with a new image to gain more attraction and local business was Oscar’s best bet to turn this venture around.
“The boss is in the house,” Dan Chaplain, the on-site contractor said, opening the door of the vehicle.
“You know it.” Oscar slapped him in the gut. “Working out much lately.”
“Wife’s a good cook.”
“Oh yea. How is married life?” Oscar asked, but got distracted by the appearance of the grounds. “Dan, come on either water the flowers or lose them. This is the desert. Are they even necessary?”
“No, sir. I’ll get the landscaper on it right away.”
“What’s going on inside?” Oscar stepped in the door first. The sounds of construction halted with his entrance into the restaurant.
“Keep working, fools,” Dan said to his crew. “As you can see we’re on schedule.” He pulled Oscar over to a table set up with blueprints and plans for the project.
“Then where’s the fire? Why was I called out here?”
“I was instructed by the new chef to request your presence.”
“Two hours on a plane, an hour of butt kissing at the bank to meet someone.” Oscar rose to march to the kitchen. “Why?” He was stopped when the chef pushed the swinging doors open.
“Hi Oscar,” a strong and confident woman boomed out the greeting.
“Casey? How did you?”
“Dad said you’d be surprised.” She smiled big and flung her arms out for a hug.
“I thought you were still in France.” Oscar squeezed the new chef tight, lifting her small frame a little off the ground. “When? How? Did I approve your employment papers?”
“No, Dan arranged this. We wanted it to be a surprise.”
“We have to catch up.” He took her hand and tugged her to sit down. She resisted.
“First you taste my food.” She tugged him into the kitchen doors. Before discussing anything further, she pulled out a barstool positioned in front of a display of several deliciously plated dishes. “I won’t tell you anything about me until you approve the menu.”
“This is fantastic. You astound me.” Oscar sat for the first bite.
Over the next half hour Oscar tasted every dish Casey had prepared for the menu of the new restaurant. Each time he tried to turn the conversation back to how she was, she steered him back to the food. Finally after the last dessert was devoured Casey opened up.
“How’s Dad and Angela? Are they running the bar alright?”
“With Mitch’s help. The Buckeye is doing well.”
“You sell yourself short.” She crossed her arms. A stance Oscar knew well from Casey’s bartending days at the Buckeye. She was about to give him the riot act. “You spend too much time there. You’re a billionaire. You can drink in a different bar, in a different city every night. Why don’t you take advantage of your money?”
“I do. Just not in the conventional way.” He lightly shook her shoulder. “I have everything I need. I’d rather keep making dreams come true. Like paying for your excellent training at Le Cordon Bleu. I only wish your sister would nail down a major so I could help her too.”
“She’s too much like you. The Buckeye’s in her blood.”
“Enough jibber jabber.” Casey poked at Oscar. “Let’s go out on the town.”