What the Bachelor Gets

by Kristina Knight

  Gage dropped her off outside the office, and Callie dug her keys from her bag. She got in, started the car up, and waved to let him know she was okay. Gage followed her to the main road and then turned right when she turned left. Different directions, she told herself. They were going in different directions. This would make working for him so much simpler.

  Chapter Five

  Gage didn’t bother to stop at the glass-and-chrome reception desk. Didn’t wait when the receptionist, Ana, told him Connor wasn’t available. Didn’t stop until the door to Connor’s office slammed closed behind him and his brother’s blue gaze snapped to his.

  “Nice to see those manners that were so important to Dad finally took hold.” Connor’s voice was lazy and gruff, as if he might have slept at his desk the night before. “What brings you here this morning, Gage?”

  Gage flung the newspaper down on Connor’s desk. “Did you really think this was a good idea?”

  Gage winced as his gaze caught the headline. Again. Local Vegas Developer Voted Bachelor of the Month. Alongside a picture of him from a couple of years before, escorting a Hollywood socialite to the opening of a new club at the Mercury, one of the most expensive hotels on the Strip.

  Connor rolled his eyes. “Why not? Every time a picture of you with a socialite hits my magazine, the comments and page stats skyrocket. Last time, I ordered a second run of the print version to appease our readers, and if circulation is right I just might do it again.”

  “The last time I took a socialite—Hollywood or otherwise—anywhere was two years ago.” Gage sat across from Connor, and his shoulders were tensed, but he kept his voice even. “And I told you then to stop using me as your meal ticket.”

  “Can’t help it that your pretty-boy mug gets women’s panties wet.”

  “Con—”

  “Pretty Boy.” Connor echoed Gage’s tone, using the nickname Gage had always hated. “You sell newspapers, which makes my advertisers happy. Happy advertisers pay more for ads, and that makes me happy. Pretty women have always made you happy. I really don’t see the problem here.”

  Of course he didn’t see the problem. He and Jase had never seen the problem. Gage had grown accustomed to women taking a second or third glance at him, and he didn’t mind it when he was in control. But having his vital statistics printed for all of Vegas to see, for Callie to see, hit Gage the wrong way. He loved women, but he didn’t want to deal with the phone calls, emails, and social media friend requests this article would bring.

  “Using me is the problem. Goddamn, Con, you act like putting my face on the cover of your magazine is going to catapult your media holdings to Rupert Murdoch proportions. You’re not running People magazine, and I’m not George Clooney or Matthew McConaughey or whoever the unlucky bastard is they decide to treat like a piece of meat for a month.” Gage got up from the chair and paced Connor’s posh office.

  Floor-to-ceiling windows gave Connor a view straight down Las Vegas Boulevard on one side and out into the desert on the other. Just like Gage’s office a few floors up. Sunlight glinted off the chrome on the glass coffee table and then seemed to sink straight into the black leather sofa in Connor’s sitting area. Gage still didn’t know what a person needed with a desk and a sitting area, but he’d long ago stopped trying to figure out his brother. Either of them, actually.

  “You act like you’ve been auctioned off to the highest bidder. Get a grip.”

  “Put George Clooney or Leonardo DiCaprio as your cover story, they’re used to holding off a stampede of women. And they practically live in Vegas.”

  “George is married, strike one. Leo isn’t here as often as he once was, strike two. You, however, cause women to drop their panties just by walking past them at Paris or Caesars, strike three, and you’re already on the cover. It’s done, G, get over it.” Connor sat back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. He’d broken his nose a few times, and his eyes were a strong blue rather than the green Jase had inherited from their mother or the brown Gage got from their father. Otherwise, the cheekbones and jawline were the same. Gage could have been looking in a mirror, the resemblance was so strong.

  “You always swore you wouldn’t use family to sell papers.”

  “You swore you were leaving Vegas and never coming back.”

  “Not the same thing.”

  “Then how about this? The three of us swore we’d do whatever it took to hold on to what was ours. We have the ranch. You’ve got your business, Jase has his. This one is mine, to run as I see fit.”

  Gage narrowed his eyes and, frustrated, sat in the chair across from his brother. On the surface he understood Connor’s reasoning. Still, he could have warned Gage that before midnight he’d get five calls from women he used to date and about two hundred friend requests on Facebook, and, at last count, his email queue held about seventy-five unread messages. A few of those would be work related, but most would be about the article. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking we needed a promotion to jump-start readership. Last quarter we took a hit when that new online gossip show premiered. Vegas Nightly outsells my hard-news paper by about ten thousand copies. People want entertainment, pretty faces, and celebrities. You’re entertaining, and the pretty face you know about. And you’re the closest thing Vegas has to a local celebrity since Carey Hart moved to LA. My new assistant came up with the Bachelor of the Month idea. The reporting staff culled the nominees to ten Vegas movers and shakers, and the women of Vegas did the rest.”

  “You could have at least warned me.” Gage flexed his hands.

  “And miss our impromptu family reunion?” Sarcasm laced Connor’s words. “What would be the fun in that?”

  “You’re an asshole. How bad was the readership hit?”

  “Right back atcha, Pretty Boy. And the readership thing is nothing we can’t handle. I’d planned to start a lifestyle show on our online portal next year; we’re moving that up, and we’ll use the newspapers to create buzz while we’re getting everything set.” He paused and cocked his head to the side. “Why do you care, anyway? You’re out with a different woman at least biweekly. This should keep you in fresh, uncommitted dates through at least Christmas. I really don’t see the problem.”

  That was part of the problem. Gage couldn’t explain to himself why he didn’t like that headline—or the accompanying picture—considering a week ago it wouldn’t have bothered him a bit. He could blame it on not wanting to deal with the phone calls, emails, or friend requests, but he’d have his assistant delete every one of them before the morning was through.

  So what was it? Gage never traded on his looks, but he was strong enough to admit his face had gotten him plenty in the past. Grades, dates, jobs. Employers respected his business acumen, but it was his face that first made anyone notice the third son of Caleb Reeves. Jase was the brilliant game developer and gambler. Connor the fun storyteller. Gage never had to work to make people notice him, but now he was more than the pretty face. He was respected in the business community and developed high-end properties that made Reeves Brothers Entertainment a hefty profit each year. That afforded him the luxury of working on pet projects—like the Heck ranch.

  Like Callie’s business.

  These days, Gage Reeves was known as much for turning rundown Strip properties into moneymakers as he was for being attractive to the opposite sex. Telling Connor any of that, though, would result in more “Pretty Boy” jokes, so Gage decided it was best to just move on.

  “Well?”

  Gage blew out a breath as he shook his head. “Nothing I can’t handle. I should probably warn you we’ve got a coyote pup at the ranch for the foreseeable future.”

  “You’re kidding. Who convinced you to bring one of those home?”

  Gage just resisted shifting in his seat. “Callie’s back in town. She found it, and none of the local humane organizations would take it—”

  “With good reason.”

  Gage looked up.
“I know. But it’s in a crate, and Rollie’s taking care of it until I can find a rescue or wildlife preserve for it.”

  Connor sat up straighter. “Why isn’t Callie dealing with any of that? Why isn’t the pup on her dad’s land, for that matter?”

  “Harley sold last year. How did you not know that?”

  “Huh. Guess I’ve been a little too focused on the Strip.”

  “Anyway, they sold the land, bought an RV, and are traveling around the country. Callie’s got a condo in Henderson, and there was no way her neighbors were going for a coyote pup, even one in a crate.”

  “The ranchers around the Rocking R will be just as pissed.”

  “What could I do? It’s Callie.” His brothers had always had a soft spot for Callie, just like Gage.

  “Well, good luck with the pup, and the dates.”

  “Asshole.”

  A buzz sounded at the desk, and Jase's face filled Connor’s computer screen.

  “Jesus, you called Jase to make your case?”

  “Since this affects all three of us, yes.”

  “How does my being your stupid-ass Bachelor of the Month affect either of you? You’re not the ones who are going to have to change your numbers, get new email addresses, and basically live like a hermit for the foreseeable future. Not to mention field calls from investors about ongoing projects.”

  “Edging into the dramatic, don’t you think?” Jase’s voice was deep, even through the computer. Rough, like maybe he’d just woken up. Hell, maybe he had. The last Gage heard, Jase was in a poker tournament in Dubai. It would be the middle of the night there now.

  “Exactly. The piece didn’t say you were a philandering jackass with a penchant for busty blondes with low IQs.” Connor sat back in his desk chair and put his hands behind his head. He waved one hand between the computer screen, Gage, and himself. “And I think we can all attest to the fact that you’ve dated your share of blondes with big boobs and little brains. On the list of ten men that the women in Vegas all want to get to know you happened to wind up on top.”

  “Pretty Boy likes to be on top,” Jase needled him from the safety of being several thousand miles and one computer screen away. Gage wanted to dropkick the computer and Connor’s glass-and-chrome coffee table through the oh-so-shiny window.

  “You’re both asses.”

  “Look, its done. Maybe Con should have given you a heads up, but let’s face it, you’ve landed in his paper about two hundred times by now and never given it a second thought. Not even when you were landing there because you kept getting picked up for underage drinking and that fun little moment when you decided to play chicken with death by ‘dating’ a casino boss’s daughter and then dropping her faster than a hot potato when she decided she was in love with you.”

  “That was five years ago, and I’d been out with the girl exactly two hours when she started coming up with baby names. And let’s not forget where I learned all my womanizing, bachelor habits, Jase. None of this is the point. I’m running a business now, one that requires a steady, solid image. Not a Bachelor of the Month title.”

  “We’re all running businesses, that’s the point,” Connor said. “Mine is dependent on advertiser dollars, and those dollars are dependent on readers. Your face equals readers, as much from the reputation you used to have as the one you do now. Suck it up.”

  “Fuck it, dudes, lets go bowling,” Gage said. It was one of their Get Out of Jail Free cards. When they were kids, they spent hours watching the same movies over and over. The Big Lebowski was one of their favorites, and that line was basically an all-clear. Gage didn’t like being the Bachelor of the Month, but he was done arguing about it.

  “There’s our hero shot,” Jase and Connor said at the same time, stealing a line from another favorite, The Truman Show. They were done arguing, too, and Gage knew Connor would think twice before using him in the future. It was enough.

  “I’m close on the Heck deal,” Gage said, changing the subject. The Heck ranch was important to their overall goal of protecting the desert outside the Vegas city limits.

  Together they talked through the options for the eco-friendly resort Gage wanted to develop on the property, and for the first time since he’d walked through Connor’s office door it felt like old times. Like the days after Caleb’s death, when Jase and Connor let him sit with them around the big kitchen table while they plotted how the ranch could support the three of them even after they all left it behind. How it could be a monument to the father they’d all loved, even if they couldn’t understand him. That kitchen table was where Reeves Brothers Entertainment was born, even if they didn’t technically incorporate until after Gage finished his degree.

  “So we should have an answer in the next week, I’d say. He doesn’t want to sell, but he doesn’t want probate court after the fact, either.”

  “If you think it would help, I could go out there,” Connor offered from his desk. Gage slanted his mouth to the side and then shook his head.

  “No need to make him feel the pressure. He’ll do the right thing.” Hopefully what Heck decided was the right thing would be in line with Gage’s plans.

  Jase brought the conversation back to the newspaper. “Just put your head down and ignore any unknown numbers for the next couple of weeks. Hire another secretary for your office just to answer phones; I’m sure Con has one or two he could loan you.” Jase yawned. “I’ll be home for a bit after this tournament.”

  “You sticking around?”

  Jase shrugged. “For a while. Have a couple of game designs I need to finish up before the next tournament.” There was something in his voice, almost a wistful edge, that made Gage look closely at his older brother. But no emotion showed on his face, just tiredness around his eyes. He clicked off the screen.

  Connor pursed his lips. “Your article has about seven hundred comments already. Most of them skeevy.”

  “Of course they’re skeevy, it’s an unmonitored comment section of a tabloid.”

  Connor had the grace to look apologetic. For about two seconds. “I didn’t think you’d care.”

  “Well, I do.”

  “Then this is going to piss you off even more.”

  The hairs on the back of Gage’s neck prickled, and he clenched his hands.

  “Part of the deal, with the Bachelor of the Month, is that the women ‘bid’ on the bachelor. For a date.”

  For a long moment, Gage couldn’t speak. “You’re pimping me out?”

  “No.” Connor scowled. “You don’t have to sleep with anyone. Just a date. The proceeds go to the children’s hospital.”

  “You’re pimping me out in the name of sick children?” Gage was incredulous. Since when did Connor’s paper have a deal going with the local children’s hospital? And how in the hell did he pass off a Bachelor of the Month spread as a promotional tool for the kids?

  “You’ve made the hospital about five grand so far. Bidding ends at midnight.”

  Gage slumped in his chair, shaking his head. “You’re an idiot.”

  “That’s better than an asshole.”

  “You’re an idiotic asshole who should have his journalistic credentials burned.”

  “The newspaper takes care of dinner.”

  “I notice you waited until Jase was off video chat to mention that little detail.”

  Connor shrugged. “If he really is coming back to Vegas for a while, chances are he’ll make his own cover. We do this once a month, you know.”

  “That’s all the payback I need.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You getting your ass handed to you by our brother when you name him Bachelor of the Month at some unknown date in the future.”

  Connor chuckled. “So, are we good?”

  Gage sat back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. “Yeah. Next time make sure I’m nowhere near anything your readers are voting on, okay?”

  Connor shrugged. “I’ll see what I can do.”

 
Gage left the glass-fronted lobby of Connor’s office and took the elevator five floors up to his own office. He and his brothers might not be the best of friends, but they all understood the value of property. Connor’s publishing company took up the first three floors of the downtown building, Jase’s game development firm took up the next two, and Gage’s property development firm took up the top three floors.

  He walked through the door, and Barbara, his assistant, hurriedly folded the paper in her hands and shoved it under her desk. Gage plastered his best give-’em-hell smile on his face and said, “Take a good picture, don’t I?”

  “They were handing them out at the elevator this morning.” Barb picked up her notepad and followed Gage into his office. “You know I have a nose for news. Plus, they had chocolate.” Barb pulled her hair up in a messy bun and then sat in the chair across from Gage’s desk.

  Most mornings it was just him and Barb in the office; he hired contractors and laborers for his renovation and building projects, and there were clerks and office staff, but because of the nature of the business, most of them worked flex schedules. It worked for him. People coming in and out of his office all day was a distraction he didn’t need. He hired bright people who knew their role and didn’t need hand-holding. If the deal with Heck went through, he’d have to hire more office staff, an environmentally minded developer, and a designer. He tuned back in to Barb.

  “The girls were debating whether you were getting back together with Jessica, because of the picture.” Barb shot him a glance. “The girls” were Barb’s assistant friends. Most of them worked on this street, and they all met for coffee every morning before clocking in to their jobs.

  Gage could imagine them debating the possibilities of Jessica and Gage: Part Two. They’d only dated a couple of months, but every time Jessica, a minor star in Hollywood, came back to Vegas, the gossips talked. It was likely one of the reasons Connor chose that particular picture and one more reason for Gage to want the papers off the streets. Not that Connor would pull the issue. Hell, he’d probably make good on his hinted threat to order a second print run. There was nothing Gage could do about Connor, he’d learned that lesson long ago. He waved a hand as if his face on the front page of Vegas Nightly was no big deal. “Don’t worry about it. We have a new tenant coming in later today to sign a lease agreement on the last Oasis spot.”