He chuckled, shaking his head. “None taken. I’m sure you’re right, and no, I don’t have anything against nineteen-year-olds. I just don’t want to marry one.”
“Then why did you ask us to come here?” Jane Cole asked, giving him a puzzled look.
“I didn’t. I asked Miss Edwards to pick candidates age twenty-two to thirty.”
“Well, is twenty-one old enough?” Ann Winters asked, speaking up for the first time since they all sat down. “Although, I’m not sure I’m ready to get married.”
“That’s alright,” Brock grinned. “I’m not going to marry any of you.”
“Well, don’t you want to talk to us first?” Missy Carr asked with a flirtatious smirk. “You might change your mind.”
“No, I’m sure.” If not for the fact he was madly in love with Mary Ellen and Miss Carr was still a little too young for his taste, he was starting to get the notion he might actually have enjoyed dating her. He felt certain she would prove to be a lot of fun for whatever lucky man she did end up with in the future.
“How can you be?” Ann Winters asked, more out of reflex, than true curiosity.
“I know who I want to marry.”
Jane Cole raised an eyebrow at him and asked, “Then why are we here at all?”
“I was trying to get her riled up.”
“Oh,” she nodded in understanding. “You’re in love with Miss Edwards.”
“Yeah.”
Ann Winters chuckled, shaking her head. “Well, I think you got her riled up, alright. She was spitting mad last night. She took us to the steak house in Onyx Valley and used the company card.”
“Did you all have steak and a dessert?”
“Yep,” Missy Carr winked at him. “And three different appetizers.”
He just shook his head at her. “Good,” he said with a nod. “I’m sorry to waste your time. I was hoping she would suggest we get married instead of bringing other candidates in.”
“Might I make a suggestion?” Missy Carr asked, sitting forward, looking truly serious for the first time since they had all gotten there.
“Sure. Why not?” he nodded.
“Why don’t’ you just try asking her to marry you?”
“I’m planning on it.”
“Good,” Ann Winters said with a smile. “I really like both of you. It makes sense.”
“Thanks. Are all of you ready to leave?” he asked walking to the door. They all nodded their heads, giving him a big grin before standing up to follow him out to the outer office. “Good day, ladies.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Silverman. Good luck,” they waved. “Goodbye, Miss Edwards.”
“Good luck?” Mary Ellen asked.
“Oh, that was something we talked about while we were in my office.”
“You’re not going to ask me to find you three more candidates, are you?”
He just shook his head like it was of very little consequence. “Don’t worry about that. I need you to book plane tickets to Vegas.”
“What? Why?” she asked, feeling the panic rising up in her.
“You and I are going to Vegas.”
“Why?” she asked, giving him a sharp stare. He better not try to get me drunk.
“Business.”
“Business? We run a local newspaper. What business could you have in Vegas?”
“You’ll find out soon enough. Just make sure Fred and George are prepared to take over for a few days. I want to fly out tonight, if possible.”
“I guess I need to book a hotel as well.”
“No, I’m sure we can find something when we get there.” He wasn’t ready to tell her he’d made hotel reservations last night. It was for one room and he was sure she would wander why he didn’t go ahead and get plane tickets as well.
“What about your bid for a wife?”
“No worries,” he grinned, anticipating her reaction, before turning back to his office. “I know who I’m going to marry.”
“What?” she screeched, her jaw dropping open. He has lost his mind.
6:36pm
“Brock, if you’re going to get hotel rooms, you probably better take care of that now,” Mary Ellen grumbled as they entered the double glass doors at the front of the hotel. She looked around skeptically, wondering if he had deliberately picked what looked like it had to be the most expensive hotel in the entire city. Maybe he was thinking there was more of a chance they would still have rooms available.
No matter how classy the place was, they still had a wedding chapel. Maybe an even more fancy wedding chapel, but a wedding chapel no less. She could see a line of people standing at the chapel entrance, waiting to get hitched already. There was even a little podium standing outside the door with a little man in a tuxedo with a computer in front of him. With the line they have already, they must start out early in the day, around here. Or maybe they just haven’t stopped from the night before. “If you don’t, we may not be able to get any. I don’t want to be wondering around Vegas all night. There might not be any snow out there, but when the sun goes down here in a little bit, I’m sure the temperatures still going to drop pretty low. It’s almost down now.”
He nodded his head, giving her an almost scared look. “Yeah, I’ll take care of that. Why don’t you go over to the restaurant and wait for me at the bar? I don’t know about you but I’m starving. We can get something to eat when I’m done.”
“I wonder if they’re always this busy during this time of year,” she grumbled, giving him a hard look, puzzled by how nervous he sounded. “What’s going on with you? You never told me why we’re here.”
She was starting to wonder if when Mark had suggested she go with the flow, if he would have really meant she should come to Vegas with the big idiot. She sighed, shaking her head. She must love the crazy loon more than she even realized, to fly across the country during the Christmas holiday, not even knowing what they were here for in the first place. Not that I don’t have my suspicions. And he still better not try to get me drunk.
He gulped, giving her a somewhat panicked look. “We’ll discuss that in a little bit. Go ahead and wait at the bar. There’s no reason you should have to wait with me. There’s no telling how long this is going to take.”
There was a part of her that really wanted to balk at being told what to do. Not to mention, his nervous behavior was making her that much more suspicious. What it came down to was, she was just too tired to argue. She was going to chalk it up to being in a different time zone. If they had still been in Missouri, it would be going on nine o’clock already. She would have been home from work, for hours, by now.
“Sure. Why not? I could use a drink. Something with alcohol in it,” she mumbled under her breath, ignoring the little voice in her head that was now saying, and you were worried about him trying to get you drunk.
She stood there watching for a few seconds longer as he hurried off to the check-in desk, still wondering what he was up to. She knew him well enough to know, he was definitely up to something. She sighed, shrugging her shoulders and finally turned in the direction of the restaurant he had mention. She really was just too tired to try and puzzle him out right at the moment. Whatever it was, she was sure it wouldn’t land them in a Nevada jail cell somewhere. He was a little crazy, but he’d never proven to be criminal.
6:48pm
Brock rushed over to the check-in desk, somehow managing not to let himself turn to see if Mary Ellen was still standing where he had left her. He was sure if he didn’t stop giving away his nervous state, she was going to start asking questions. Honestly, he was really surprised she hadn’t started already. She was one of the smartest people he knew and usually caught on to things quickly when he was up to something. Whatever reason there was for her silence this time, he was very grateful for it.
Finding the clerk with the shortest line, he stepped up behind a weary looking man in a crumpled suit. What might have accounted most for the man’s obvious exhausted appearance was the woman st
anding beside him. She had already rattled off three times about this being the fifth hotel they had tried since he’d walked up there. He wouldn’t have guessed he’d been standing there long enough for that. Apparently, she had tried to warn him about the Christmas holiday being so busy, and he hadn’t listened.
Brock stood there with his hands crammed in his pockets, fighting the urge to start shoving people out of his way. Especially the nagging woman. She was starting to give him a headache and he’d only had to listen to her for the last couple of minutes. He could only imagine how the man with her was starting to feel. His headache had probably started back at the second hotel they had tried.
He glanced at his watch, wondering how long he’d been standing there. He was afraid if he had to wait long enough, Mary Ellen might get tired of waiting, and come looking for him. The last thing he wanted was for her to hear him request his room key and realize he’d only reserved one room. He figured he’d be in the most trouble for only getting the one room, but he didn’t figure she’d be really happy to find out he’d already reserved it. She’d be sure to want to know why he hadn’t gone ahead and bought plane tickets as well.
Several minutes later, he finally made it to the desk, the man in front of him storming off in a huff. The woman behind him still nagging at him, now at top volume, and shouting something about them having to stay at his mother’s house for their visit. She didn’t seem to believe they were going to find a hotel anywhere in the entire city of Las Vegas. Looking around at the crowd of people in this one, she was probably right.
He turned back in time to catch the young clerk’s weary expression. She had apparently had to deal with a lot of unhappy customers today. She gave him a tight smile, doing her best to remain pleasant. “Sir, I hope you’re not planning on getting a room. I just gave the last available one away a few minutes ago.”
“Well, I reserved mine yesterday. It bettered still be available. I told the clerk I talked to at the time I’d be arriving in the evening. As a matter-of-fact, I paid over the phone earlier today. All you should have to do is check me in, give me my key and have my bags taken up.”
The face of the tired young woman instantly brightened. Well, girl really. She couldn’t have been more than nineteen or twenty and probably had at least twenty places she would rather be right now. “Oh, good. That shouldn’t be a problem then. What name would the reservation be under?”
He didn’t bother saying a word. He just handed her his driver’s license as proof of identification.
“Missouri, huh?” she asked, glancing back up at him, this time giving him a much more relaxed and entirely different kind of smile. “You’re certainly a sexy one. I’ve always had a thing for older men,” she winked, handing him the card key to his room. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in nothing but that cowboy hat and a smile, if you’re game.”
He grunted, cramming his wallet back in his back pocket after replacing his license. “Sorry,” he smiled, shaking his heads. “I’m not. I just need my bags taken up to my room, please. I need to eat dinner before going up.”
She lifted her hand, waving what turned out to be a bellhop over, never taking her eyes off of him. She gave the young man the necessary instructions, then focused all of her attention on him once again. “Are you sure I couldn’t change your mind?” she asked, leaning forward in an attempt to give him a view down the front of her top, while trying to lure him by chewing on her bottom lip. “I’m sure whatever you’re here for isn’t going to last all night. I’ll clock off as soon as you walk away from the counter. I’d be willing to wait at the bar for you.”
He shook his head, grumbling, “I’m sure you couldn’t.” Boy, the women in this town sure are forward. I don’t think I like it. All he wanted to do was get away from the young woman before Mary Ellen came around the corner and saw her hitting on him. His luck, she’d think he was the one doing the flirting. Unfortunately, the young woman had a hard time taking no for an answer and stopped him with another question. “Why not?” she pouted, rather attractively, really. “I’m sure you could use some entertainment. I know I could.”
“You know, Vegas only has two really large main attractions, and I’m not a gambler,” he answered, finally leaving her speechless. But not for long.
“I’m willing to volunteer to be your bride,” she said with a huge smile, that truly did appear hopeful.
“Sorry, I brought my bride with me. She’s just waiting for me in the bar,” he said, pointing behind him. “I didn’t feel it was necessary to make her wait in the line with me. That’s really a one-person job.”
This time when she turned temporarily silent on him, he took the opportunity to make a break for it. As he walked away, he heard her utter, “Well, darn. Lucky lady. He really is one fine cowboy.” He just chuckled to himself, hoping Mary Ellen thought so as well.
7:05pm
Nearly twenty minutes after first asking Mary Ellen to wait in the bar located in the hotel restaurant, Brock finally made it there. For a few seconds, he stood at the door, worried she might have gone to one of the other two bars the hotel boasted of. When he finally spotted her, he took a deep breath, sighing in relief. That relief only lasted a split second.
He started in her direction, a growl escaping his lips before he could stop it. It had taken him long enough, there was some jerk in a fancy suit hitting on her. When he got close enough to hear them talking, his mood darkened even more.
“Come on, Sweetcakes, I could pay you enough for one night to make up for what you probably make in a year.”
“I’m not sleeping with you for money. I’m not a hooker,” she screeched in outrage. “Go away. You’re killing my alcohol induced relaxation,” she added, just barely slurring her words.
The suit just snorted, looking her up and down. “With that body, you’re made for sin. Why do so many women think they’re supposed to be skin and bones? It’s sickening,” he grumbled with a shiver. “You’re sitting alone in a bar in Vegas, during the Christmas holiday. What else could you be, but a hooker? I may not be your first choice, but I assure you, I can pay you enough to make me your only choice.”
“I’m not here alone. Brock will…”
She stopped short when the man in question walked up and wrapped his arms around her. He felt her look up at him, like she was making sure it was him, but he didn’t look down at her. He was too busy glaring at the jerk in front of her. “She was waiting on me to get our room key. Get lost.”
The guy snorted, eyeing Brock like he was a pile of cow dung. “I can pay you at least double whatever he was going to give you.”
That was the last of the guy’s arrogance Brock was going to take. He stepped around Mary Ellen, cracking his knuckles. “She’s not a hooker,” he growled low, leaning down low to bring his nose closer to the much smaller man’s face. “We came here from Missouri, together. To get married. If you make one more vulgar comment about, or to her, I’m going to punch your lights out. And before you go waving your money around again, I can more than afford the legal fees. Get. Lost.”
The guy put a hand up and looked around him like he was going to say something else to Mary Ellen. At the last second, he seemed to realize just how much bigger Brock was than himself. He instantly paled and nodded his head before turning and scurrying off like he was trying hard not to mess himself.
Brock sighed, rubbing his forehead. “What is it with the people in this town being so forward and then not being able to take no for an answer? At least the little clerk at the desk wasn’t so rude in her propositioning,” he grumbled out loud, not realizing the bartender was listening.
“My guess, your clerk was Sheila. She likes the cowboy look.”
“It’s not a look,” he grouched, giving the man a dirty look. “This is who I am. I actually know how to ride a horse and own a few.”
“Please, I mean no offense,” the man added with an apologetic smile. “Sheila just doesn’t care if they’re real cowboys or just dressed a
s one. She can also be very aggressive but she’s generally not rude. As for the other guy, I don’t think he’s from around here. Anyone from Vegas would have immediately known your lady here was from out of town and definitely not a hooker. Not to mention, prostitution is actually illegal in Vegas. It’s a mistaken assumption that it’s legal here, because this is Las Vegas after all, and it is legal in other parts of the state. But even then, it’s only in certain areas.”
“I don’t care,” Brock grumbled, giving the guy a hard look.
The bartender just chuckled, giving him a wide smile. “I don’t figure you do,” he said nodding at Mary Ellen. “I tried telling the guy a couple of times before you showed up, she wasn’t a hooker. He wouldn’t listen to me either. I really don’t think he cared about any of the facts. He struck me as one of those types that think they know more than everyone else around them and believe they’re intitled to whatever they want. Like he figures, if he pays enough for it, it’s his for the taking, no matter what it is.”
“No one’s taking Mary Ellen from me,” he grumbled, tossing a dirty look over his shoulder, aimed at the man who was now long gone.
“I take it, you must be Brock then,” the bartender chuckled.
He gave the man a hard look, replying, “Yeah. How did you know?”
“She threatened that guy with you a few times. Told him you would be here soon and very unhappy about the way he was talking to her. He didn’t seem all that impressed at the time. He certainly changed his tune once you got here.”
Brock crinkled his nose up, staring back at the door the guy had left through once more. “Do you get a lot of that kind of thing around here?”
“Sometimes, but not a whole lot,” the bartender answered, gesturing toward Mary Ellen, who was almost asleep on the bar. “You probably ought to get her up to bed soon, or you’re going to be carrying her. While I’m sure you’re capable, you probably don’t want to have to.”
Married by Christmas (Sapphire Springs Book 2) Page 8
