Second Chance Romance Boxed Set: A Second Chance Romance, page 18
“What are you talking about?” Eric asked.
“Pops paid for my college. He helped me get my bachelors and masters.”
Eric plopped down in his office chair in amazement.
I got up and walked a little bit with Eric staring out me. It freaked me out.
“Pops paid, and I had to work two years at the bar to pay him back. Not free but at a low wage.”
Eric sat in the chair. “Are you joking? I never knew he did that.”
I shrugged. “I mean, I didn’t want to tell my best friend I had no money. Taking care of my mom while she was battling cancer my senior year of high school left no funds for school. She wanted so bad for me to go to school. More than anything, she wanted me to be able have the education that she didn't. All those years she worked with Pops here and both of us running under their feet, she wanted to make that happen for me. He swore to her he would do right and that I would make it up to him at a later date.”
Eric’s face dropped. “I didn't even know all that. I know, of course, about your mom. Pops always seemed to be helping others.”
“I couldn’t let anybody know that here I was Dean Dobbins, kick ass bartender and fledgling entrepreneur from Asheville, North Carolina, and I had no funds and was eating Spaghetti-O’s out of the can. I wanted you to think well of me, too.”
He looked at me for a moment and smiled. “That was Pops for you.”
Then the grin turned wicked, and he pushed a whole stack of papers toward me. “Let me see the Dean Dobbins’ magic at work because I've been looking at these statements for the last week. I went from working the bar to having him pass so quickly. I have no clue. Looking at them day and night. Well, when I can, as I’m also running the bar now, too.”
I glanced at the handful of papers. “Number one, you can’t be both the owner and running the bar without burning out. Things start to get confusing and you have a decision to make—be a bartender or an owner. Number two is we need to get these on QuickBooks or something to make it a lot easier. Either for you, if you need a loan, or if you sell the bar. Either way, you’re going to need to have investors look at the numbers and…”
Eric came back from his space out moment when I started talking about numbers. “What do you mean sell? This is my dad’s bar, his business, livelihood for the last fifty years. His legacy to Taylor and me…”
I waved my hands in the air. “Whoa, hold on. All I'm saying is that we need to have all the books together so if we decide, excuse me, if you decide that you would like to expand or if you have other ideas that you want to do, lenders are going to want to take a look at your books, so let’s make sure they’re in order. And by order, I mean in a way that people can understand.”
Eric stared blankly at the handwritten ledger and then back at me. “Do you have anything going on right now?”
I want to spend time with your sister. Having her underneath me in the next hours would be nice. Swallowing my tongue, I shook my head.
“Well, then let’s get to this!”
I finished looking over the books at about four o'clock in the morning. Just the last year. I sure as hell was not going to get into the last fifty years of Pops’ books because his chicken scratch was hurting my eyes. At the very least, we got through the last year and got them ready to go on QuickBooks.
“It’s just a double entry system that he was using. Having it online will make it easier, and I’ll come back again tomorrow and start putting the books on QuickBooks Online so that way you can access anywhere. If you go to a conference, out-of-town, sick, somebody can take a look at and help you.”
Eric raised his sleepy head from the pile of papers. “That was intense. How much do I…”
I waved my hands. “Hey, man, nothing. Nothing. This is just a small something I can help you with to get it in order. You know I’m here for a couple of weeks so there’s no reason I can’t give you a hand around here.”
“What are you here for?”
I glanced at my Rolex. “Just getting a new nightclub going and looking at properties. It’s getting kind of late, and I need to go back to my room and get some sleep. It’s been a long day.” Not quite a fib.
Eric smiled as he stood up and slapped me on the shoulder. “You're telling me. The longest day of my life and the realization that my dad isn’t going to be here anymore. It’s daunting.” He stopped and rubbed his eyes with his hands. “I’m just glad you’re here, man.”
“Yeah, me, too,” I replied, touched.
He grabbed his bike keys from the middle drawer of the office desk. “Do you need a lift? Better than calling for the ego-stoking limo or an Uber.”
I laughed. “Sure.”
He gave me a man hug. “Thanks, Dean. I mean it.”
We headed outside, and he gave me a lift back to the hotel. Along the way, I wondered how long I actually could keep Taylor and me from Eric. Especially if we are working together. He dropped me off, and I headed upstairs to the penthouse.
The first thing I did was text Taylor from the hotel and remember her sweet lips. I’m sure I was still smiling as I fell asleep.
Chapter Nine
Taylor
After I got home, I could barely sleep at all. The only thought rushing through my mind was Dean and the breathtaking time in the cellar. If only we had not been so rudely interrupted by Kris. I laughed. She had impeccable timing. Everything before that was just wonderful. It was everything that I remembered, everything I imagined being with Dean would be.
I tossed and turned for a couple of hours. I hadn’t even had a chance to say goodnight with Kris giving me the “I see you” look and Eric looking at me strangely. This was going to be hard, trying to keep it on the down low from him. I glanced at the clock and groaned, throwing the covers over my head.
It was about four in the morning, and I was going to have to get up in just a couple of hours to start work at Word and Chat. However, I could not get my mind off that amazing man or get it to stop the progression of where that kiss might have led into.
It was almost as if my thoughts conjured him to life as I received a text and rolled over to grab my phone. Sure enough, it was from Dean. I was glad I’d convinced Eric to swap numbers, so we would have them for “work” reasons.
His first text read, I hope you are doing well.
Okay, that’s weird.
If you mean by doing well, I don’t have a cold, no pains, besides an ache.
I added a smile to that text and let him think whatever he wanted
His next text read, You know what I mean.
I responded, No, I don't know what you mean by ‘me doing well.’ I told you that you didn’t have the right to ask me how I was doing. Did you have something else to say or do you just want to ruin my beauty sleep?
The next one actually had me catch my breath. You are beautiful. Don’t need any sleep. Could we continue where we were tonight?
I answered, Are you crazy? Work in two. Answer no. Besides, I’m no one’s booty call. Continue discussion later when I can book you into schedule.
The next reply took a couple of minutes, LOL, the ball’s in your court.
I smiled back and sent my reply, You better believe it is. Text me tomorrow and we’ll go from there. Tata for now!
I received a smile back and with that, I was finally able to at least get a few hours of sleep before my day started.
In what seemed like mere minutes after I had shut my eyes, my alarm went off at exactly 6:01 a.m. But I didn’t need it since Eric woke up slamming doors, his normal when he was home. I jumped out of bed and ran over to open my door.
“Eric, what in the hell is wrong with you?”
He poked his head out of the bedroom door. “I feel wonderful.”
I was startled. “Amen! Now, why do you feel so wonderful when you are still wearing the same clothes you were wearing yesterday.”
He looked down at himself. “Fell asleep in them. Anyway, Dean helped me get some order to the accounts, and we’ll be getting them online and organized. I feel like a huge weight is off my shoulders for the first time in weeks. I’m up at the crack of dawn with you, ready to start my day!”
“Really, he's that good with the books?”
Eric ran both hands though his hair. “Not just that good with the books. His ideas, the things that he’s done. It’s like a whole other world of possibilities is opened up to me that I didn't know existed.”
“I'll be damned,” I said. “I'm glad that Dean and you are friends again.”
Eric walked over to me. “It’s as if we just saw each other yesterday… I can't even explain it. Like I was missing my arm, and I didn't know it. I can’t believe I let Courtney come between us.” He looked quizzically at me. “Was it just me or was it weird that she was there at all?”
“It wasn’t you,” I responded.
“I mean, I found out all about Courtney and her escapades later. What a dumb ass I felt like and what a difference a decade makes.” He paused. “You know, we should all get together this weekend on Friday night after the will is read. What do you say?”
“I’ll think about it,” I responded as I tipped his nose. “Love you, bro.”
“Love you, sis.”
Then he got into the bathroom before me. Damn it. And I couldn’t find my phone. Not a good start to the day.
I spent the next eight hours talking about socialites on social media, talking about the latest parties and the happening scene, and showcasing what a great turnout everyone had given my father on The Boar and Brew blog. I spoke about how happy Eric and I were to have a reconnected with our old friend, Dean Dobbins.
As I typed in the last word, I laid my head back on that wonderful ergonomic chair, glad for the end of the day and excited to see Dean later. About this time, Kris came bouncing downstairs to see me.
“Okay, okay, spill, spill! I feel like I have been dying in retail all day doing crap and trying to be nice to people so I could get over here and find out everything before I hit the clubs on Friday.”
I raised my hand. “No one can know Kris. Not just Eric. No one. I’m just not ready for that yet.”
Kris sat down in a nearby beanbag chair. “Then just for my future knowledge, I want to know what in God's name happened yesterday. Please dish!”
“We talked and made amends and, and…”
“And you swallowed his tongue, so I doubt there was too much talking involved,” said Kris.
I turned eight shades of red. Beets had nothing on me. Kris saw I was just about to ask the floor to swallow me up, so she pulled back a little bit.
“Are you going to see him again?”
I nodded. “Probably tonight. We haven’t set up anything yet.”
“I want to know everything that's going on because, my gosh, if I had had what you had, I probably would have about twenty little Erics running around right now. I mean, that brief second I saw was hot.”
“That’s just so many ways of embarrassing, and you won’t have any little Erics unless you ask my brother out. You know how blind and narrow focused he is. I don’t think he has been out on a date in like three years.”
“Two years, six months, six days.”
I waved my hands. “Now that’s stalking. Just coffee. Nothing serious. Do it.”
“I will if you tell me what happens tonight.”
“Pinky deal.”
We did the age-old pinky shake.
She crooked her head at me. “You know, the word on the street is Joe is dating Katie Evans.”
I stopped rummaging around looking for my phone. “Really?”
Kris nodded. “How do you feel about that?”
I thought about Katie and how she was an RN at the hospital and a candy striper when we were in high school. She was a really sweet girl. “I think they make a nice couple.”
“No jealousy. No ‘bitch, I’m going to show you!’ None of that?”
I shrugged.
“That’s telling in itself,” she said.
“Katie is a nice girl. I can see them together.”
Kris smiled back. “I knew you would say that. I’m heading on off. Remember, dish!”
She took off up the stairs and shortly after, I heard her roar off.
Still trying to find my phone, I tore my office apart, then the kitchen, and living room. No phone. What was wrong with me? I was normally so very good about being organized and everything having its place. I hopped in the shower and hoped it would come to me where I misplaced it.
I thought about Joe. I wasn’t bothered by it. In fact, I was happy for him. I liked Joe, but our relationship wasn’t terrific. We had started dating five years back. During one of our dates – I was working the bar and he had come to see me – he had surprised me with daisies and wildflowers, my favorites, and had Peggy give them to me. It was so very sweet. It’s what I hoped would jumpstart my feelings, but they never went above like.
As I was lathering up and getting ready for what might be a date with Dean, I tried to figure out my feelings for him. That made my heart jump all over the place. I was feeling pretty good, so good I even shaved my legs. It made my heart jump when I thought of Dean touching them later and running a hand up my thigh.
This was an odd feeling. I continued to compare the two. The last three years with Joe had been off and on. He was my first. It was fine but nothing so exciting I thought about it later. Certainly nothing like what I experienced last night with Dean.
That might have been what broke between Joe and me. He was a nice guy, but he didn’t… didn’t move me the way I would have expected he should have. Joe was a wonderful person but not the person for me. That feeling I had with Dean last night was unbelievably thrilling, sexy, and erotic. And all we did was kiss. Now I wasn’t saying Dean was the guy for me but knowing that Joe really wasn’t made it better. Hearing that Joe was dating someone else made me feel relief, nothing more.
I was all wrapped up in my towels and looking through the closet when I heard my phone give a beep. It was under my pillow. How did that happen? I must have fallen asleep with the phone on me. It had very little juice left. I plugged it in and read the text that Dean had sent me about an hour ago. My hands shook as I read it.
Hey, how about dinner at the hotel?
What hotel? I texted back. A minute passed.
It’s about time. Thought you had forgotten me.
Maybe I had something better going on.
Doubtful. The Alex Johnson.
The Alex Johnson. Holy crap! The marble waterfall outside the hotel and doormen always intimidated me, and I had never been inside. It was out of my league.
Maybe someplace a little less formal.
Anywhere else, Eric would know.
Damn. Of course, he would. He would know in like five seconds flat if I went out on the town with Dean. But doing things on the sly was… exciting.
Besides, you deserve nice things. How about my room for dinner?
My pulse started jumping. Now that sounds like a plan.
I’ll have the limo pick you up.
I sent him a little smiley face. Give me forty-five minutes.
Thumbs up was his reply.
I felt like a princess. Looking around my room, I could see nothing that passed for clothing for such an occasion. I dug around in my closet, throwing clothes all over the place. My room looked ransacked. Then I found it, hidden away in the back, what every girl needs. A little black cocktail dress. I had bought it years ago and never had a reason to wear it. I smiled to myself. Now I did.
The minutes went by in a blur as I hurried to look presentable before the limo appeared in exactly forty-five minutes. I loved the promptness, but I wasn’t sure I was ready for this. One last glance in the mirror, and I hardly recognized myself with my makeup perfect and the sexy little dress. I even felt different. Very womanly.
I watched Asheville glide by as we headed to the hotel. As the doorman let me out near those waterfall walls, I realized the doorman was someone from high school, Jeff Davies. I heard he was working a third job for the home his wife and him were buying.
He nodded my direction, giving me a smile. I think my ears tipped red. I was going for a potential hookup or a potential disaster. As I walked into the atrium, I realized that in all my twenty-seven years, I’d never been into a penthouse, anywhere. The concierge escorted me to the elevator and turned a key and pressed a button.
I was shaking as the elevator doors opened into the living room of the penthouse. What a view! I’m not just talking about the mountains and the setting sun, but I’ve never seen a man look so good as Dean did when he walked into sight.
Dean was normally put together anyway but tonight he was wearing a business jacket and white shirt, opened slightly to give a view of his chest, but not enough to be gaudy. Scrumptious. I could see hor d'oeuvres and a bottle of champagne set up out on the balcony. The look on Dean’s face as he stared at me made me feel proud to be a woman.
He cleared his throat. “You look… fantastic.”
I smiled shyly.
Dean held out his arm for me, and I took it as we walked out onto the balcony. He poured a glass of bubbly for us both, we sat back, and started talking. As we talked, time disappeared. I learned so much about how he made his way back from absolutely nothing and everything that happened to him between Asheville and LA.
He seemed hesitant to go over some of the details. I figured there were things about his past he wanted to say but couldn’t yet as we were still feeling our way around each other. He’d tell me in his own sweet time, I supposed.
As we talked throughout the evening, our courses were served from room service. Salads, soups, steaks. I hardly tasted it, I was so entranced by his tales. He served me as I talked about what had happened here and what was going on. I learned he had no social media skills, and he learned that I was enthralled by the whole social media industry. I’m sure I bored him to tears, but he didn’t appear uninterested as he asked me intelligent questions about marketing.
By the time we made our way to dessert, I was stuffed. Roll me around like a seal. When they served up crème brûlée, I noticed he'd only gotten one with two spoons, so we shared. After we finished, he opened another bottle of the really awesome champagne he poured me earlier and filled my glass. I stepped away from the table with my glass and walked to end of the balcony, while he gave instructions to the staff, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
