What the Bachelor Gets

by Kristina Knight

  Gage shrugged. “They won’t like it, but as long as the animal is caged it shouldn’t be a problem.” He finished his cone and wiped his hands on a napkin. “Rollie will take most of the heat, being foreman. I check in from time to time but mostly leave the running of the ranch in his well-refined hands.”

  “Too busy taking over the world?” Callie popped the last bite of waffle cone into her mouth. Gage’s eyes shuttered, and his shoulders stiffened.

  “The work we do keeps the ranch running like a well-oiled machine,” he finally said. “The ranch still contracts with the big rodeo outfits, and a few Italian designers have bought into our leather. The three of us are doing what we need to do to keep Caleb’s legacy intact.”

  “And build it even higher?”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  And if that wasn’t a blinking neon sign telling her to leave the subject alone she didn’t know what was. “Why do you do it?” She echoed his question from earlier. “Property development is obviously lucrative; why bother with the ranch at all?”

  Gage brushed his hands over his trousers as he stood. “Why come back to Vegas when you had life pretty well laid out back East?”

  And there was the exclamation point at the edge of the neon sign. “Some things we do because we don’t have any other choices.” She couldn’t look at him. He knew she’d been married and was now divorced. He didn’t have to know what a complete idiot she’d made of herself for the past few years. Or that, even though her parents were off on a new adventure, the only place that felt like home was here.

  “Something like that. On the other hand, when everything fell apart after our father died, Jase and Connor were the ones who kept things going. Made sure I finished school, went to college. The three of us busted our asses to keep the ranch going. I focus a little more on the ranch now, but Connor and Jase did the heavy lifting there for a lot of years. Now we’re building something that is our own, too.” He handed her a napkin, and Callie wiped her hands. “We should get back. You have location shopping to do.”

  “You had a hand in that heavy lifting, you know.” Callie waited until Gage snapped his seat belt before she spoke. “I remember plenty of early mornings on your part, a lot of missed days of school when you were working on the ranch instead of being a typical high school kid.”

  Gage shrugged off her words. “You did the same with your dad.”

  “I just picked up some of the slack. The three of you held your father’s empire together while most of your friends focused on college. Doesn’t Connor still live in Vegas?”

  They passed the outskirts of Las Vegas, and the traffic immediately became thicker. “Yeah, but he’s busy with his publications. He was never that interested in the ranch. Comes out every few months. Rides a horse. You know, makes his appearance. Usually right after the National Finals Rodeo or some other cowboy event that reminds him of his past.”

  Callie watched him closely as he talked. “And you miss him being around, don’t you?” She echoed his words from their earlier interview.

  “He and Jase have their own dreams to chase.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “My dreams are right here in Vegas. Property development has made me a rich man, and I have the added benefit of escaping the limelight any time I want with a sixty-mile drive to the boonies.” His expression remained soft, as if this was just a conversation to pass the time, but his voice was hard, like there was something more going on in his head. A little muscle ticked in his jaw, and his knuckles whitened against the steering wheel.

  Gage turned off the side street and onto Las Vegas Boulevard. They were in the parking garage a few moments later.

  “Once the financing is complete, I’ll tour a couple of new locations and shoot you an email when I find the right one. On the Strip this time, as you instructed.” She chirped the words as if a giant elephant hadn’t suddenly appeared in the truck. An elephant she couldn’t quite define but could sense as surely as she could sense the “back off” vibe steaming off Gage.

  The calculating businessman sitting beside her, the man who was still tied to the land, inched up Gage’s hotness factor by about fifteen.

  Definitely not someone for Callie to mess with, and one more reason for her to get out of this SUV and only continue contact with Businessman Gage via email.

  “I’ll take care of the old lease for you,” he said.

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  “My investment dollars, I’ll lend you a hand.”

  Callie twisted her mouth to the side. “The half a million dollars you invested is enough lending.”

  Gage parked the truck in the dim parking garage and twisted in his seat. “Investment is different than loan. I see a smart, capable businesswoman before me who has a solid plan that will go over well in a tourist town. You, Calista Davenport, Callie Holliday, are going to make me a lot of money.”

  Callie gathered her things and opened the door to the heat of a Las Vegas summer afternoon. It was like sitting before a blasting furnace in ski gear. “Still, I’ll email you once I’ve narrowed down the choices. See ya around, Gage.” She shut the door and started for her little Bug.

  She tossed her bag on the passenger seat, turned the ignition, and cranked the air conditioning. Gage remained in his SUV, motor running. Making that call? Focused already on some other deal? A different investment? Callie texted Mandy.

  I think I might need to hurl when I get back.

  No dice from the angels?

  Yes on the dice. Half a million in dice. And I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.

  Half a million dollars. She rubbed her fingers against her temples and closed her eyes. She just needed a moment, a quick minute to wrap her head around what her business could do with half a million dollars. Her phone buzzed. It was Mandy, texting line after line of happy-dancing emojis.

  It would be okay. It was an investment—wasn’t that what Gage reminded her of? An investment that would net him five percent of her profits for the next ten years. Not a loan she would never be able to repay. Finally, Callie started out of the parking garage.

  Gage was right behind her. Not on the phone, as far as she could see. She offered him a little finger wave in the rearview. He lifted his index finger from the steering wheel in salute, and Callie pulled out of the garage.

  Gage followed.

  She turned left onto Las Vegas Boulevard and then onto a side street. She made a pointless right turn, and Gage followed again. She reached for her phone but remembered she hadn’t programmed his number into her contacts yet. Besides, talking while driving was dangerous. Callie made her way around the block and pulled back onto the road leading to Holliday Spas. She parked in the open space before her business and stared at the rundown exterior for a long moment.

  “Where ordinary days turn into extraordinary adventures.” She quoted the spa’s motto as if it might suddenly put some glitz into her off-Strip location.

  It didn’t.

  The concrete was cracked, only two of the adjoining ten windows in the center were occupied by businesses, and the big sign on the curb was missing several letters. So, instead of reading Las Vegas Wholesale Center, it read a Vas hole Center.

  “A vast hole, indeed,” Callie said to herself as she grabbed her bag and locked her car.

  Location, location, location. And now Gage was here to see her lack of one.

  Maybe he was here to see her business in person?

  But he’d already made his decision.

  Callie bit her lower lip. Only one way to find out. Gage met her on the cracked pavement.

  “A Vas Hole Center. Nice.” He nodded, arms crossed over his chest, eyes hidden behind Wayfarer sunglasses. “A cheap tax prep operation, someone who makes cheap stuffed animals for carnivals, and a massage parlor. You definitely need a new location.”

  “Spa, thank you very much. Massage parlor has a nasty connotation.” She paused. “You’re here to see my operation
?” Did that mean he was re-thinking the investment already?

  Gage pushed open the front door. “No, I’m going to check out these new locations with you.”

  Mandy sat behind the counter, chewing gum and drinking another Coke. “Is this the investment guy?” She gave Gage a once-over. “You don’t look stuffy and bankerish to me.”

  Of all the times for Mandy to be her usual, blunt self. “Mandy Davis, meet Gage Reeves. Gage, my best and only other masseur, Mandy Davis.”

  “You’re the partner in crime.” Gage held out his hand. Mandy latched onto it like it was a lifeline and pumped his hand up and down.

  “If by ‘partner in crime’ you mean person who lends moral support, encouragement, and the occasional shoulder to cry on, yes. I do the advertising, manage the appointments, that kind of thing. And, if needed, I'm always good for an alibi.”

  Gage smiled. “Got it.”

  “So,” Mandy said. “Reeves? Like, Reeves Brothers Entertainment? And Gambling? And Publishing?”

  He pushed his sunglasses onto his head. “I’m not all of them rolled into one, but, yeah. I’m the development arm.”

  “Nice arm.” Mandy sat back in her hair and whistled. She turned her attention to Callie. “Did you luck out or what?”

  Or what, Callie wanted to say but didn’t. She had only ended up with Gage because she had been turned down by every bank around Las Vegas. And she still didn’t know exactly what that “check out these new locations” bit was about. And the longer Gage was around, the harder it was to think of him as her boss.

  Business partner, she reminded herself.

  Instead of saying any of that, Callie painted a happy smile on her face. “I think so. How did we do this afternoon?”

  Mandy shrugged and, true to her no-bullshit self, said, “One walk-in. But I think he was more interested in having me, uh, pull his chain than the back-and-shoulder massage I gave him.”

  Gage raised a brow but didn’t say anything. Callie wanted to sink through the floor. Gage already knew she was in financial trouble. Now he knew the other side of her business, the side that was always a struggle: some people automatically correlated masseuse with hooker.

  This neighborhood didn’t help that association, which was why she was moving. Just as soon as she could find a new location and get a new ad campaign going. Which meant getting back to work instead of gawking around her own lobby.

  “I’m going to show Gage the listing papers of the new location possibilities. Buzz me if you need any help out here, okay?”

  Mandy snorted, and as Callie opened her office door, she heard the other woman mutter, “I’ll buzz you if hell freezes over. That might be sooner.”

  Callie shut her office door and motioned Gage into a chair before taking her own. “Mandy is—”

  “Amazingly, refreshingly blunt,” Gage interrupted. “Just a two-woman shop?”

  Callie nodded. “For now. As you know from my prospectus I hope to add at least one more full-time masseur in the next year, as well as nail techs for mani-pedis. Both Mandy and I are also certified for acupuncture, and aroma therapy. I’d like to add an aesthetician if the demand is great enough. And in my five-year plan, we—”

  Gage held up his hand. “I know your one-year and five-year plans as well as my own. Part of the job. You said you have locations in mind?”

  She handed him a folder with listings for five potential properties and then sat back in her chair as he paged through them. “As you can see, three of the five locations are within walking distance of the Strip, one other is inside one of the mid-range hotels, and the other is in Henderson.”

  Gage handed one of the sheets back to her. “Henderson is out. Vegas natives don’t think anything about driving around the suburbs, but tourists won’t understand that Henderson is as close as any other Vegas address.”

  Callie scowled at him. “But the price is right.”

  “But the location is wrong, or do we need to go back over all the ways that this vast hole of a location is wrong for you?”

  She bristled at the words. Yes, she’d made a mistake in leasing this wreck of a place, but where was the Gage who’d been so supportive during their meeting?

  “Which is why I’m going to visit each address before I sign on any dotted lines.”

  “Great.” Gage stood. “We’ll start here.” He handed one of the sheets to her. “And work our way down the list.”

  “I don’t have any appointments made. I was waiting until after I met with the investors.”

  “And now you’ve met with me, and I’ve approved your plans, and I’m already here, so why not go see the new spaces together?”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  “Oh, you kinda do.”

  “You condescending—”

  He shot her a teasing grin. “Besides I like looking at real estate. It’s a compulsion. Having you around will keep me from buying anything new. Maybe.”

  “You think I’ll lease another clunker.” Callie slung her attaché over her shoulder. “Well, I won’t. You’re my investor,” she stressed. “But I can do the location shopping on my own.”

  “Of course you can. But what if you run into another Wile E. Coyote”—he waggled his brows at the pun—“and need me to make another run to the ranch?” His expression softened, and he chucked her on the shoulder. “And maybe I just like hanging out with my old friend Callie.”

  “Gage … ” But what could she say? He believed in her plans, otherwise he wouldn’t have invested in her. He’d been her friend, all those years ago, and friends were something Callie was woefully short of right now. So he made her heart beat erratically, and it was a little hard to stop staring at his broad shoulders. She was a grown-up. She could deal with a little sexual attraction. “Okay, but this is my operation. You’re the investor, but I’m the decision-maker. We’ll take my car.” She grabbed her keys from the desk and tossed them to her right hand.

  Gage caught them and put them back on the blotter. “I am not driving around Vegas in a car built for little people. We’ll take my truck.” He started from the office without looking back.

  Fine. He could drive his gas-guzzling truck. But she was still making the final decision on her new location. She stuffed her keys into her bag, told Mandy to close up at five, and then followed Gage back out into the hot Nevada afternoon.

  Callie asked her smartphone for directions to the first possibility, a space at a small hotel and casino cornered on the Strip. Gage drove while she navigated, although she admitted to herself he likely didn’t need the help. He’d never left Vegas, and he might be loaded, but Gage wasn’t the type to be driven in a limo unless there was good reason not to drive himself.

  They arrived at the hotel, which looked slightly garish in the sunlight but glowed a pretty pink once the sun went down and the neon turned up. Plenty of foot traffic, Callie noted as Gage slowed for a few pedestrians crossing the circular drive. He parked in the garage, apparently not trusting the valet service with his big, black Escalade. Down an escalator and across the main gambling floor they found the day manager’s office. Gage no sooner mentioned his last name than the small man with a big smile escorted up an elevator and then down a series of hallways to the back of the casino. A bank of plate-glass windows stared blankly back at them. The manager unlocked the main door, chattering about potential and space while his silver-and-gold wing tips clicked across the tile floor. He led them inside the three-thousand-square-foot location.

  As empty rooms went, it wasn’t half bad. The tiles were a boring black but made well. There was room for a reception and waiting area, and down a small hallway were four separate rooms that would make cozy massage chambers.

  “It’s a little quiet, don’t you think?” Gage whispered in her ear.

  “That’s because there is no one here."

  Gage raised an eyebrow. “I meant traffic. No casino guests have ventured down this hall, and we didn't pass any when we left the elevator, eith
er.”

  "We'll add signage. You have to imagine it with a reception here by the front door.” She held her hands up, thumbs together so that her hands made a picture frame. “We could put up a Shoji screen or two to give the aesthetician her own space, and a manicure table and spa pedicure chairs could be set up on the other side.”

  “Shoji screens.” Gage waved his hand. “People want more privacy than a paper screen, even if it is pretty.”

  “The private rooms are nice.”

  He shrugged. “Seemed kind of small.” Gage wandered to the front of the storefront to chat with the manager while Callie made her way back through the space.

  He was right; the rooms were tight. With a table and a cabinet for oils, towels, and other tools, there would barely be room to move around to work on the customers.

  And Callie was never fond of those mall-style mani-pedi places. Too many people wandering by, watching while toes were painted and nails were replaced. Okay, so it wasn’t like those theaters where people watched surgeons repair heart valves, but it also wasn’t like watching the chefs carve up an onion volcano or catch an egg in their hat at Benihana.

  Dejected because she’d had hopes for a storefront inside a casino, Callie rejoined the men at the door. She took the manager’s card, and they returned to Gage’s car in silence.

  “You didn’t like the location?” he asked innocently as they pulled back into traffic, crossed Las Vegas Boulevard, and continued to the next location.

  “You know I liked the location. It was in a hotel.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to be part of a big chain?”

  Callie rolled her eyes. “It would be a solo shop, not part of the hotel. And my issue with the chains has more to do with how they’re run than anything else. Turn left at the next stop sign.” She gave him a couple more instructions.

  “So what was wrong with that place?”

  “Is this a test of some kind?”

  Gage shook his head. “Not at all. Just curious about your change of heart.”

  Callie studied his face for a long moment, looking for that twinkle that said he was putting her on or the vein in his temple that thundered when he was annoyed. He seemed serene. Calm. Cool. Interested, but more of a casual interested than an I’m-your-investor interested.