Hell on Heels (Hotel Rodeo #1)(51)

“Are you really going to make me grovel? Is that what you’re after?”

“No, Evan,” she laid her hand on his. “That’s not what I want at all. I’m just not ready to jump back into a relationship. I’ve been through a lot with my father. I want to settle his affairs out here and get my own life back together.”

The waitress returned with their drinks. Monica took a sip. The amber liquid warmed her throat and tingled all the way down to her stomach. She really should have eaten something.

“Will you at least come back to the firm?” Evan asked.

“I’m considering my options.” She glanced up warily from the glass. “Is Hirschfeld and Davis still one of them?”

“Do you really have to ask? It’s been a f*cking mess since you left. I need you back.”

“Fair enough. I’ll consider it. Now you just have to make me an offer I can’t refuse.”

“I thought I’d already done that,” he replied, a bitter reference to their broken engagement.

“I’m talking about the hotel,” she said. “If I were to sell, what are you thinking about doing with the property?”

“The place is a f*cking dump, but the north end of The Strip is prime territory for development—I’m thinking maybe a retail outlet or condos.”

“There’s another party involved. I gave him sixty days to come up with financing, but I don’t think he’s going to get it. I’m obligated to give him first refusal.” She’d agreed to give Ty sixty days, had even offered to help line up financing, but he’d rejected her offer outright. Was it just stupid pride?

“I can offer cash, Mon. You know that.”

“The question is, how much cash?”

“That is always the question, isn’t it?” he replied cryptically. “I think we can agree on a figure. I’ll give you a definitive offer tomorrow. That good enough for you?”

She nodded. “Tomorrow will do. Let’s talk again then.” She pushed her chair out.

“You’re leaving?”

“I think we’ve concluded our business, don’t you?”

His head jerked back. “Fuck that. I made dinner reservations for us.”

She was irked that once more, he’d taken her for granted. “I never agreed to dinner, Evan.” She forced a smile. “We’ll talk again tomorrow.”



After her meeting with Evan, Monica was determined to talk to Ty. Although Tom had put the decision in her hands, she felt a twinge of conscience in moving forward without first talking with Ty. She had a pretty good idea of how much Evan would be willing to offer. Ty’s twenty percent share of that would be a powerful consolation. With that kind of money he could start over wherever he liked. He could probably buy himself a small island off the Yucatan Peninsula and spend his days on a private beach drinking margaritas surrounded by sultry se?oritas.

That last thought made her throat tighten. Was that the kind of life he really wanted? Never to tie himself down to anyone? Tom had known Ty his entire life and seemed to think differently. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on Tom’s part to see the two people he cared for most together. For a short time it had even been wishful thinking on her part. She knew better now.

When Ty didn’t answer her call or text, she headed to the hotel. Although she could have dealt with everything by fax and phone from New York, it only seemed right to meet him face-to-face . . . and say good-bye.

Arriving at the hotel, she went straight to Ty’s office, trying the door when he didn’t answer her knock. Finding it unlocked, she went inside to leave him a note and discovered architectural renderings lying on his desk. Overcome with curiosity, she spread them out.

She was shocked to recognize the inspiration for the sketches as the Plaza de Toros in Seville, the oldest bullring in the world. It was unmistakable. She’d seen it several times during her European travels.

The idea was exciting, innovative, and absolutely brilliant, but it seemed so completely out of character. She never could have imagined Ty coming up with something like this. The pieces were slowly coming together—the sketches, Ty’s evasiveness. Was he trying to secure investors? Why hadn’t he discussed any of this with her? Then again, when had she ever given him the chance? She hadn’t. She’d never once asked him about his ideas for the hotel. She’d never shown the least interest in his plans, or in his dreams, other than shutting them down.

Even if he could get the funding, she wondered if he had the wherewithal to take on such a massive project. Tom’s words suddenly echoed in her mind.

Ty needs you.

She recalled her answer to Tom: that Ty only needed Ty.

She wondered wistfully if things had been different between them, if she might have stayed on, but they’d proven it was impossible to keep their relationship on a professional footing, and anything personal was only doomed to fail—it already had. Although she wished him well, she could never be a part of this. She rolled up the drawings and left his office to try the saloon.

“Ms. Brandt!” Gabby’s face lit up at her entrance. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’ve been really busy,” Monica said, sliding onto a stool.

Gabby smiled slyly. “Funny, that’s exactly the same answer Ty gave me.”