Hell on Heels (16 page)

Guilt knifed Ty's gut at the flash of pain that dulled her soft gray eyes, but he couldn't take his words back because it was true. His instincts recoiled at anything that hinted at commitment. He'd made that mistake once and had lost half of what meant the most to him—his family ranch. And Delaney didn't even need it. She'd taken it and held on to it just to be vindictive, to punish him for something he didn't even know if he'd really done. If that was love, he wanted no part of it.

Ironically, it was Monica who'd created this new complication in his life and Delaney who'd come up with a potential solution. He knew it wasn't an altruistic move on Delaney's part. She wanted something from him, but he didn't have a clue what it might be—other than his half of the ranch.

He hadn't wanted to leave Monica so soon, but his ex had already texted that their plane was about to land. With tens of millions on the line, he'd have to spend the weekend schmoozing Uncle Phil. Part of him resented it, but his options were nil. He'd busted his ass to build something out here in Vegas, to make something of his life, and he still had hopes of doing that if he could come up with the cash.

He understood Monica's position and knew it wasn't personal—not anymore anyway. Fact was, she had her life and he had his. Their roads had converged for a time and would soon divide again, but that didn't mean they couldn't enjoy the short ride together. At least that's how he'd looked at it. He hadn't wanted to hurt her and never would have brought her out to his place if he'd guessed how it would end up. Why couldn't she be content with the present without demanding what he wasn't able to give? Maybe part of him had wanted to share his hopes, dreams, and ambitions with her, but Monica always had to have everything on her terms, and his weren't negotiable, which left them once more at a total impasse.

 

As soon as Ty left, Monica followed suit, checking into the Aria, where she spent the morning highlighting apartment ads. There was no lack of options, but she still hesitated to act. Tom was the only reason she'd come to Las Vegas. As much as she loved him, she couldn't live for him. She needed to get on with her own life. And right now it was a great big tangled mess, and her involvement with Ty had only made it worse. Last night she'd gone out on a limb. After the intimate dinner, she'd begun to think there might be something real growing between them. But she'd only fooled herself.

A dull throb settled over her, as relentless and remorseless as an aching tooth. She threw down the rental listings with an exasperated sigh, no closer to a resolution on anything. She thought once more of Evan's call. Part of her dreaded the idea of seeing him again after their nasty split, but she reminded herself that he could be the solution to her troubles.

If Evan was prepared to offer anything close to a fair price, she'd persuade Tom to sell. End. Of. Story. Once the place sold, she'd be free to start over. Maybe Boston? Or even London? She had a number of contacts in the London financial district. A fresh start. That's exactly what she needed. New city. New job. New life—someplace far away from Ty Morgan.

T
om clicked off the TV the moment Monica walked in and picked up his iPad. His eyes softened as she stopped to kiss his weathered cheek. “How are you doing today, Tom?”

“I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

“I'm sorry, but you know we can't do that. The ranch is too far away from a hospital. What if something were to happen? Please try to understand. I hate this as much as you do, but you still need access to medical care that isn't available out at your ranch.”

“You're not a pain in the ass,” Monica replied with a head shake. “You're just frustrated. We all understand that, and we're trying to make this as easy on you as possible, but it's going to be an adjustment. And that'll still take some time. Tom,” she hesitated, feeling a huge pang of guilt, but there was no easy way to do this. It was time to bite the bullet. “There's something important we need to discuss. I know you aren't going to like it, but you still need to hear me out.”

What is it?
He tapped out.

She took a breath and blurted it out. “Evan's here in Vegas. He wants to make an offer on the hotel. I think you should reconsider selling.”

Tom's eyes hardened. He pounded his index finger on his iPad.
Don't like that a-hole.

“Please Tom, this is business. If you're worried about Ty, he'll walk away with millions. With that kind of money he can do whatever he wants.”

I don't understand, Tom. If it's so important to you, why not just sell it to
him
? Name the price you want. I'll get him the lowest interest rate and easiest terms.”

“Me?” She gave a wild laugh. “No, Tom. You're quite mistaken about that. Ty has made perfectly clear that Ty only needs Ty.”

“I'm sorry, but I just can't do this. This isn't the life I want. It isn't
me
. I want to go back to New York. I need to get my life back.”

“I don't know. I haven't decided any of that yet.”

She looked away with a forced laugh. “Me and Ty? He's not my type at all. It could never work between us,” she added softly, “even if I wanted to try.”

Tom typed.
I need you Monica.

Her heart wrenched at the tears in his eyes.

“No, Tom. You don't. You have both Rosa and Ty here. I love you, but I just can't stay any longer.” Her throat tightened as she clasped his hand between hers. “Please try to understand. I don't want the responsibility of the hotel. I just need your decision on what to do about it. Either sell it to Evan or sign it over to Ty. I'll do whatever you want me to do, but either way, I'm returning to New York.”

Tom typed two words.
You decide.

 

Monica left Tom with a huge knot in her stomach. She knew what she had to do, what she'd promised all along she was going to do. Nevertheless, calling Evan felt like she was betraying Ty.

Although texting would have been easier, she took the bull by the horns and hit Evan's number on speed dial. Although she'd steeled herself for the conversation, she was almost relieved to get his voice mail four rings later.

“Hello, Evan. It's Monica. If you're really interested in making a deal, meet me at the Encore Lobby Bar at eight.”

 

Ty spent the bulk of the day entertaining Delaney and “Just Call Me Phil.” Luckily, the ol' man was a big fan of bull riding, and Ty knew all the cowboys. He also had close connections with the event promoters and was able to obtain tickets to a number of private functions, all of which seemed to score him some points with his potential investor. One of these was a tour-sponsored golf tournament. Ty hated the game, and was glad to leave early with the excuse of a lunch date with Cassie.

“So sorry I'm late, Cass,” Ty apologized and joined her at the table. “It's been a hellish day.” Except for the sunrise with Monica, his entire day had sucked. He could only hope tonight would be better.

“I'm sorry to hear that, Ty.” She offered a sympathetic look. “I hope what I have for you will make it better.”

“Can't make it worse. That's for damned sure.”

The server appeared. They both ordered the Pad Thai. Cassie then reached under her chair to pull out her portfolio. Here are the renderings I promised.” She produced several sheets from inside. “When you mentioned bulls, I immediately thought of this. Of course, these are just conceptual, but if you like the idea, I'd be thrilled to take it to the next stage.”

Ty pushed his empty plate aside to peruse the sketches. He hadn't been real specific about what he wanted, maybe because he wasn't all that certain yet, figuring he'd know it when he saw it, but what she'd come up with didn't even come close.

“This is a real interesting concept, Cassie, but not exactly the kind of design I had in mind for the new hotel complex.”

Cassie countered. “I know you were thinking along the lines of traditional rodeo, but that's what South Point offers just five miles down The Strip. Didn't you say you wanted something different? There's a certain cachet to Old World. Look no further than the Bellagio and the Palazzo.”

She had a point, but this really wasn't what he'd envisioned at all. He tried to let her down easy. “I appreciate your efforts and promise to think on it. I should know after this weekend if we're going to be able move forward with the redesign or not. If things look promising, we'll talk about it again.” He checked his watch. “I've gotta run now. See you later this evening? If you'd like to meet me at the hotel bar at seven, we can all drive over together. I've hired a limo for the night.”

“Sure. I wouldn't miss it.” She laid a hand on his arm with an inviting smile that he once would have responded to, but that was before Monica.

After his brief meeting with Cassie, Ty made a trip to his office to drop off the sketches and then headed down to the saloon. Although he had a powerful craving for something strong to ease his growing tension, he chained up that old demon and settled for a beer.

“How's it going, Ty?” Gabby asked. “Haven't seen you around much this week.”

“Been real busy,” he said.

“I haven't seen much of Boss Lady either,” Gabby said with a meaningful look. “I like her, Ty.”

“Do you now?” he remarked noncommittally.

“At first I thought she was a real tight ass,” Gabby continued, “but she's really not like that at all once you get to know her.”

“That so?” He took another sip.

“C'mon, Ty,” Gabby cajoled. “I know you're seeing her, and I'm glad about it. I think you could be really good for each other.”

He laughed outright. “Why the hell would you think
that
?”

“Because it's that whole opposites attract, yin-yang thing, you know?”

He shook his head. “Been there, done that. I don't buy into that shit.”

“Monica is nothing like Delaney, Ty, Gabby said. “You need to stop thinking every woman is out to screw you over.”

He speared her with a dark look. “And you need to tend your own pastures, Gabby. My love life is none of your business.” He up-ended his glass and beckoned for a refill.

“I'm just saying—”

“You got everything you need for the after-party?”

She blinked at his abrupt change of subject. His message had come through clear.

“Yes, we do. I ordered several kegs of Lone Star and the caterer's specialty is Texas barbecue.”

“Good thinking, Gabby. Uncle Phil loves his brisket.” He downed the second beer and tipped his hat. “I'll see you tonight between ten and eleven.”

 

Monica entered the Encore Lobby Bar in new heels and a formfitting little black dress from Prada. Evan spotted her right away, rising from the bar and meeting her halfway, his dark eyes sweeping over her appreciatively. “You look fabulous, Mon.” He greeted her with a kiss. Although he'd aimed for her lips, she gave him her cheek.

“Hello, Evan. You look great too.”

That much was true. Even while casually dressed, Evan was always impeccably groomed, from his freshly cut hair to his buffed nails. She'd always found that look most appealing. Until now. Was she really starting to prefer whisker shadow and a cowboy hat? Or worn wranglers over an Armani power suit? The thought almost boggled her mind.

She suddenly conjured a vision of Evan in the hat and boots and almost laughed aloud. The image of Ty in the power suit, however, made her mouth water. Even with two-day beard bristle and untrimmed hair, the clothes wouldn't make the man. Ty would make those clothes.

“C'mon. Let me buy you a drink.” Evan's hand landed on the small of her back. She reacted with an urge to shake it off. It wasn't aversion to his touch that put her off but the possessiveness of the gesture. He seemed to have presumed this meeting was more than just business. She'd have to set him straight right away.

A waitress appeared almost immediately to take their order. “Balvenie Double Wood neat,” Evan ordered. They lady will have Calvados.”

Evan knew all her likes and dislikes. Or at least he
thought
he did. “Make that a bourbon,” Monica said, just to be contrary. “Jim Beam Devil's Cut neat.”

“Sure thing,” the waitress nodded and left.

“My tastes seem to be changing,” she said, answering Evan's questioning look. It was true. Many things had changed in the month since she'd left New York.

“Mine haven't,” Evan said. “If anything, maybe I finally appreciate how good I had it.”

“What are you saying?” she asked.

“I'm talking about us. You and me. We were damned good together, Mon. I realize now what I'm missing, and I want it back.”

“Some things can't be undone.”

“I already admitted I was a dick. I know that. You gotta understand, I'm used to getting what I want. I didn't get where I am by taking no for an answer.”

“So when you don't get what you want, you resort to tantrums and threats?”

He shrugged. “It usually works. This time it didn't. I should have used more finesse.”

“Is that what this is now? A show of finesse?”

“Damn it, don't twist my words. I'm trying to make it up to you. Come back to New York with me. Let's start over. I'll even buy you a new ring. Anything you want. We can leave here and go straight to Tiffany's.”

“A ring isn't going to miraculously make everything better, Evan. The relationship wasn't working.”

“The hell it wasn't,” he protested.

“Maybe I should rephrase—it wasn't working
for me
. I realize that now.” It had taken Ty to make her see the light—or, more precisely, the sunrise. She couldn't even imagine waking up to watch the sun come up wrapped in Evan's arms.

“Are you really going to make me grovel? Is that what you're after?”

“No, Evan,” she laid her hand on his. “That's not what I want at all. I'm just not ready to jump back into a relationship. I've been through a lot with my father. I want to settle his affairs out here and get my own life back together.”

The waitress returned with their drinks. Monica took a sip. The amber liquid warmed her throat and tingled all the way down to her stomach. She really should have eaten something.

“Will you at least come back to the firm?” Evan asked.

“I'm considering my options.” She glanced up warily from the glass. “Is Hirschfeld and Davis still one of them?”

“Do you really have to ask? It's been a fucking mess since you left. I need you back.”

“Fair enough. I'll consider it. Now you just have to make me an offer I can't refuse.”

“I thought I'd already done that,” he replied, a bitter reference to their broken engagement.

“I'm talking about the hotel,” she said. “If I were to sell, what are you thinking about doing with the property?”

“The place is a fucking dump, but the north end of The Strip is prime territory for development—I'm thinking maybe a retail outlet or condos.”

“There's another party involved. I gave him sixty days to come up with financing, but I don't think he's going to get it. I'm obligated to give him first refusal.” She'd agreed to give Ty sixty days, had even offered to help line up financing, but he'd rejected her offer outright. Was it just stupid pride?

“I can offer cash, Mon. You know that.”

“The question is,
how much
cash?”

“That is always the question, isn't it?” he replied cryptically. “I think we can agree on a figure. I'll give you a definitive offer tomorrow. That good enough for you?”

She nodded. “Tomorrow will do. Let's talk again then.” She pushed her chair out.

“You're leaving?”

“I think we've concluded our business, don't you?”

His head jerked back. “Fuck that. I made dinner reservations for us.”

She was irked that once more, he'd taken her for granted. “I never agreed to dinner, Evan.” She forced a smile. “We'll talk again tomorrow.”