Major O: A Bad Boy Military Romance

by R. R. Banks

  “Something tells me that they’re not going to have traditional English pub food here,” joked Dillon. “Which reminds me of the question I wanted to ask downstairs – where are you from?”

  “Portsmouth,” she replied without removing her head from the menu, prompting Robert to place his menu down and look over at her. “What?” she said defensively. “Have you never heard of Portsmouth?”

  “I was born and raised in Southampton,” stated Robert. “We’re from areas that are separated by a short bus ride.”

  Dillon laughed across the table while Marisol looked on at the menu stone faced, prompting him to shake his head and focus his attention on the two people who hailed from England across from him. “How odd,” he quipped. “The fact that you ran into a woman, not just from England, but from a neighboring city on the south coast, is completely odd. What brings you to Monaco?”

  Camille placed the menu down and looked at Robert. “What are you getting?” she asked, hoping to figure out what she wanted to eat before delving into small talk. “Everything on here looks repulsive.”

  “Do you not eat caviar?” asked Marisol, finally placing her menu down and engaging in conversation, though still coming off as abrasive and aggressive.

  “No, I actually prefer things that are more readily available and don’t require an aura of pompousness to consume,” she answered rudely, matching Marisol’s demeanor. She looked at Camille with an expressionless face before slowly cracking a small smile out of the side of her mouth. “Success!” shouted Camille as Marisol broke into a complete smile.

  “What?” she asked defensively, immediately changing her perspective and demeanor.

  “I told your date that my goal tonight was to get you to smile,” replied Camille in a very matter-of-fact tone. “I achieved that goal within five minutes. My night can end now.”

  “I’d rather it not,” quipped Robert. “We have some ways to go this evening.”

  Camille shrugged her shoulders before looking back at Marisol. “My father always preaches to me about how I should develop a taste for escargot and caviar and other foods that just look and taste awful,” explained Marisol as she gestured with her hands. “I would much rather have the cooking of one of my grandparents than anything that he prefers that I get served at a restaurant.”

  “I’m eating the grilled lobster, by the way,” said Robert quickly before allowing Marisol to continue.

  “Oh, I could go for that tonight,” replied Camille quietly while Marisol vented.

  “I would rather eat more traditional Spanish dishes than anything my father attempts to drive down my throat,” vented Marisol. “Some of the best food that I have ever tasted has come from the village twenty minutes from my father’s estate, which he would be incredibly grumpy if he knew I was going there.”

  Robert and Dillon looked at Marisol with a sense of bewilderment as she finally started to open up without much discussion. “I really thought it would take a few shots to get you talking,” stated Camille bluntly, prompting Dillon and Robert to look at each other with awkward glares.

  Marisol chuckled as she reached her hand out and patted Camille’s, completely changing her personality without much persuasion. “I have a hard time opening up to people that know my father, feeling that I have to be the person that he wants me to be in front of them,” she explained earnestly. “Your carefree and blunt attitude assured me that it was ok for me to be myself tonight.”

  Robert and Dillon smirked at one another as the waiter walked up and introduced himself politely with everyone immediately ordering cocktails and appetizers. Robert, being a connoisseur of wine, ordered a bottle of his family’s label for the table to share while also ordering an old fashioned for him to sip on. Dillon, following Robert’s lead, also ordered an old fashioned while Marisol ordered a top shelf cosmopolitan. The waiter came to Camille, who looked at the other three people at the table before shrugging her shoulders and looking up at the waiter. “Do you have a Belgian ale on tap?”

  “You drink beer?” asked Robert with a surprised look on his face.

  “I worked for FC Bayern Munich for a year and got to experience Oktoberfest,” she explained.

  Dillon adjusted in his seat and sat up a bit, looking across at Camille. “You never answered my question about how you ended up in Monaco, by the way.”

  Camille nodded. “Oh, right, sorry,” she said. “I was preoccupied with more important things. I went to Oxford and graduated in four years with a degree in international business with a concentration in sports and leisure. At the age of twenty-two and right out of college, I went to work for Crystal Palace Football Club in south London. I went in as an intern and was in charge of equipment requisitions and maintenance. Honestly, I was a locker room attendant, and I saw far more than I can explain without the aid of alcohol. After a year and a request for a transfer later, I was moved to ticketing, which is where my career really started to take off.”

  “Wait, what did you see in that locker room?” asked Marisol innocently, confused as to what Camille was insinuating.

  “Dicks,” she answered abruptly, bringing about a red tint to Marisol’s face. “I saw a lot of dicks.” Camille paused as the waiter brought out the four individual drinks first, setting them all in front of each person with Robert and Dillon immediately grabbing their glasses and sipping intently. “I’m sorry, did me telling you I saw a lot of dicks make you uncomfortable? I can describe them to you if it will make it worse.”

  Dillon waved his hands in front of her while Robert shook his head quickly as he sat his glass down. “Please, no,” Robert requested as he looked a bit uncomfortable.

  Camille shrugged her shoulders before taking a sip of her beer. “Your loss,” she chuckled as Marisol looked on curiously. “Anyways, I worked for Crystal Palace for two more years before my contract expired. I had offers to head overseas to the United States to work with several of the sports franchises over there, but ultimately opted to travel to Germany instead, taking the position of associate director of guest relations with FC Bayern Munich. I stayed there for two years, but was offered the position of Director of Guest Relations with AS Monaco. So, at twenty-eight years old, I’m already a director with one of the richest football clubs in the world.”

  Robert’s eyes lit up. “I thought you were just the will call attendant.”

  “No honey, I gave him the day off,” she said with a somewhat pompous and condescending tone. “On game days, I enjoy working the will call window because it keeps me from having to watch the games.”

  Dillon chuckled. “Do you not enjoy football?”

  “Oh, I love football, but I’d rather watch a product that’s not terrible,” she responded hastily. “Usually in the will call booth I can watch the English teams on my phone and actually enjoy the sport.”

  Dillon continued to laugh as the waiter dropped off the bottle of wine at the table, opening it in front of Robert and allowing him to smell the cork.

  Dillon picked up his glass and smelled the wine while Marisol did the same. They both sipped the wine simultaneously and raised their eyebrows simultaneously in approval. “This is very good,” announced Marisol. “I’m not accustomed to Greek wines so much as I am Spanish and French ones, but this is something I would not mind having again.”

  “Thank you,” said Robert as he held his glass in his left hand and swirled it, reliving many of the memories he had growing up. He looked to his right to look at Camille holding the glass and looking at the wine with a very peculiar look on her face. “What is it?” asked Robert.

  She brought the wine up to her face and sniffed it, startling her with the smell before placing the glass back on the table. “I’ve never had a wine that I like,” she said softly, almost embarrassed. “I’ve always preferred beer or liquor and felt that most wines tasted the same.”

  “Ah,” said Robert as he turned his body in his chair to face her. “Then allow me to teach you h
ow to appreciate this spectacular beverage,” he said confidently. “Pick up your glass and swirl it around like I’m doing. If you smell the wine while it’s sitting in a glass stagnant, it will not smell as vibrant and beautiful as it was intended, but will come off as odorous and pungent.”

  Camille gave him a curious look before grabbing the wine glass and swirling it around a bit before bringing her nose over the glass and sniffing it softly. “Do you smell any fruit or spices now?” asked Robert.

  “A little,” said Camille. “It definitely smells different.”

  “Then you’re starting to do it right,” stated Robert joyously. “Now that the wine has been swirled a bit, take a sip of it and tell me if you can taste what you smelled.”

  Camille swirled the glass a bit more before bringing it up to her lips and sipping the red wine, bringing a small amount into her mouth. With it on her tongue, she raised her eye brows a bit and nodded as she swallowed the wine. “That was much different than I have previously had.”

  “Good!” exclaimed Robert with a grin. “We’ve made some progress tonight already.”

  Marisol looked across the table at Camille awkwardly as Dillon and Robert turned to notice. “I need to head to the restroom,” she said softly.

  “Oh, say no more,” replied Camille, having an understanding with her without having her to explain the rest of the situation. “Guys, we’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said politely as she and Marisol got up from the table and headed away, leaving Dillon and Robert alone to finally discuss what happened earlier.

  Robert sat up straight and grabbed his old fashioned, sipping on it loudly before placing it back on the table to start explaining to Dillon what all happened. “Today was the most awkward day I have ever had,” he began, holding his eyes wide open for dramatic effect. “It all started with how I couldn’t get into the freaking stadium, and then I ended up taking a few chances, got in and made it to Sulagna Patel’s booth to talk to her.”

  “Yeah, I knew you made it to her, but what happened when you were in there?” asked Dillon.

  “I got shot down immediately,” answered Robert. “But she threw me a second chance. I have to be in Zurich in two days to meet with the rest of the COT executives to plead our case.” Robert paused as he grabbed his drink again and took another large sip before holding it firmly in his right hand. “She is sanctioning a personal meeting for me with the entire executive committee.”

  Dillon smirked. “So, you have a chance to get into the COT. That’s actually better than I thought you’d get.”

  “You thought she would turn me down without much of a conversation.”

  “I didn’t think you would actually get to talk to her,” answered Dillon. “I’m seriously impressed right now.”

  Robert smirked in satisfaction. “Yeah, but now comes the hard part. I have to prove to her that there is a structure in place that will lead to the stabilization and prolonged success of the company.”

  Dillon laughed. “So you have to prove to her that you won’t sell it the moment it joins the Consortium.”

  “That’s exactly right,” he answered. “I have to prove to them that I am in it for the long haul and that I will not sell the company the moment it becomes profitable.”

  “And how exactly are you going to do that?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Robert. “I was hoping you had a few ideas.”

  Dillon’s eyes opened wide as he processed the information. “You need a company to look stable suddenly? I wish you the best in that dark and murky forest, because you’re going to need more than a flash light and a guide to get through that.”

  Robert nodded. “I know, but maybe together we can figure out what it might take,” he said. “I mean, will you go to Zurich with me and at least help?”

  “Robert, I don’t own any stake in that company,” answered Dillon. “I would be completely off base if I stepped in and helped with you a business negotiation.”

  “What if I gave you a percentage,” stated Robert. “I’ve already done the math, and it could appear as a play for stability.”

  Dillon looked perplexed as the two girls walked back up. “We’ll finish this talk later,” said Dillon as he turned to face Marisol and Camille. “Girls, welcome back.”

  “Beautiful facilities,” stated Camille as she took her seat next to Robert. “Did you miss me?”

  “Every second you were gone,” replied Robert coyly, turning back to see the waiter bringing out their food. With their appetizers in front of them, they all started to dig in with their entrees all coming out shortly thereafter. The meal progressed from there with the four of them enjoying each other’s company. Within a little while, the food disappeared and dinner was over, allowing the night to continue in the casino. They walked down the stairs together and looked out into the amazingly elaborate casino.

  “What do you like to play?” asked Robert, looking over at Camille as she stood in awe at the casino.

  “I’ve always enjoyed craps,” she answered quickly. “But I’m one to play blackjack or slots if I’m bored.”

  Robert nodded. “Dillon and I usually play blackjack when we’re here.”

  “Yeah, but I heard the abrupt change in your voice when Marisol and I came back to the table from the washroom,” she stated plainly. “I think you may need a few moments with your friend without Marisol or I hanging on your arms and watching you lose all of your money.”

  Robert smiled. “That’s okay,” he said. “I’d like to spend some time with you tonight if I can.”

  “You will,” she said with a seductive tone. “I’m not letting this night end until I’ve spent some more time with just you.”

  “Oh really?” playfully asked Robert.

  “Robert, you intrigue me more than any man has in a long while,” she explained. “I would really enjoy getting to know you a bit more tonight.”

  With a laugh, he placed his arm around her side and pulled her into him, looking into her eyes and planting a soft kiss on her lips. “You will. I promise.”

  He released her and Camille turned to look over at Marisol who was completely entranced by the flashing lights and loud noises of the slot machines. “Are you a bit curious about the machines?” asked Camille.

  “I am,” answered Marisol. “My father never lets me leave his sight when I visit a casino with him, and I’m always stuck playing baccarat, which is essentially him playing the game and me doing what I’m told. I’ve never had an opportunity to actually look at them and see what they do.”

  Camille smiled and grabbed Marisol by the hand. “Come on. I brought a few hundred euros that I intended to donate to this place.” She pulled her with her as she turned back to Dillon and waved goodbye, following Camille toward the slot machines to give the two gentlemen their privacy.

  Dillon looked on as the two women disappeared into the machines. “How did you do that?” he asked Robert, staring off as the two women walked away.

  “What? Attract that amazing woman?” asked Robert playfully.

  “No…actually, yes,” answered Dillon. “How did you manage to find a woman that amazing?”

  Robert laughed. “I was due for some good luck,” he said calmly.

  “Then you’ll probably not have any tonight,” stated Dillon as they walked over to the closest blackjack table, sitting beside each other with no one else at the table. Dillon and Robert both reached into their jackets and pulled out their wallets, placing several hundred euros on the table and receiving chips matching their contribution. “How have you been tonight?” he asked the dealer.

  “On fire,” said the dealer in an Italian accent. “Everyone who has braved this table tonight has referred to me as the employee of the month because of how much I have made the casino.”

  Robert and Dillon laughed as the dealer dealt their cards face up – Robert receiving two kings and Dillon receiving an ace and a nine. The dealer showed an eight with a c
ard hidden underneath it. “Well, this is a good start,” announced Robert as he waved his hand over his cards to hold with Dillon quickly matching it. The dealer flipped over the other card to show another eight, giving him sixteen and forcing him to take another card. He pulled it from the shoe and flipped it over, revealing a five and giving him twenty-one, beating both Dillon’s and Robert’s twenty.

  “And it begins,” announced the dealer with Robert and Dillon looking perplexed and defeated. “Do you wish to continue?”

  “Of course, it was just one hand,” stated Dillon defiantly. The dealer nodded his head slowly as Robert looked on with a stoic expression. He dealt both men matching face cards, giving them both twenty with the dealer only showing a four. “You’re not going to do it again,” said Dillon, continuing his defiance. Both men held and the dealer turned over a jack, giving him fourteen and forcing him to hit. He pulled the next card out of the shoe and turned it over, revealing a seven and giving the dealer twenty-one. “What the hell,” said Dillon. “Are you sure this game isn’t rigged?”

  “I told you, I’m on fire.”

  “Relax, Dillon. He can’t do it again,” said Robert as he motioned for Dillon to calm down.

  The dealer shrugged his shoulders, sensing that he would, in fact, do it again. He dealt the cards again, this time dealing Robert a seven and a four, giving him eleven and dealing Dillon a five and a six, also giving him eleven. The dealer revealed a six with the card hidden beneath. Without hesitation, both men placed another chip down to double their bet and receive one card. Dillon was first, getting an eight to give him a nineteen with Robert getting a seven, giving him eighteen. The dealer turned over his bottom card, revealing a queen and giving him sixteen. He pulled the card from the shoe and turned it over, showing a three and giving him nineteen and the winning hand.

  “That’s enough for now,” announced Robert as he pushed himself away from the table.

  “Yeah, you really are on fire tonight,” said Dillon. “Have a good evening.”