Page 14 of Players Like Us (Reunion Gap #7)

But it usually ended with a hangover, an outrageous credit card bill, a naked woman in his bed, and too many regrets.

At some point, a guy had to own up to the idiocy and the emptiness of that path.

And the regrets? How many roads did you pave with regret before you realized you were destroying yourself?

Walking down the same path as those you detested?

Dominic rarely drank and when he did, it was a single glass of wine.

There had to be a reason behind it, but he never said and Neal never asked.

Still, the one-glass limit and Dominic’s desperate need to save the restaurant made Neal assess his own drinking habits—and assess his other habits as well.

A good example could make a person think about their own patterns, even make them want to change.

That’s what happened with Neal and Dominic.

They started out as strangers with one goal in common—save the restaurant—and three years later they were best friends with a successful flagship restaurant and three other thriving ones.

Of course, only a few people knew Neal was part owner in these businesses and he preferred this.

Why deal with the constant demands on his time, efforts, or money when he could operate behind the scenes and Dominic could be the figurehead?

It worked for both of them. But there’d been a few times when Neal had wanted to tell someone he was more than just a good time.

He’d actually tried once, but the woman had laughed, kissed him full on the mouth and told him he was too much fun to be practical.

And then she’d clutched his belt buckle and led him to the guest bathroom during her parents’ Christmas party and showed him exactly why he should forget practical and stay with fun.

Would Rachel call him practical or fun? He’d settle for “decent human being”.

He dreaded the prospect of collecting data on her but he’d given his sister his word so he had to do it.

After all, no one else in his family believed he could honor his word.

Meredith had never given up on him and he would not disappoint her.

So what if he did a little investigating to appease Rachel’s brother? No big deal.

Except it was a big deal. Everything about their last few nights together had been enjoyable: Rachel’s first taste of beef carpaccio, her comments about the short ribs, and, of course, the smile as she savored the dark chocolate truffle cake.

He’d enjoyed watching her, sharing in her pleasure.

And then there’d been the discussions about redesigning Matilda’s, the details that made a project work, and how this “facelift” would bring more intimacy and romance to the restaurant.

Plus, who didn’t love a good bottle of cabernet?

They’d shared two bottles and by the end of the first evening, he’d been relaxed and thinking about the next restaurant he wanted to try with her.

For business purposes, of course. But deep down, he had to admit that they’d connected on a more personal level and he’d be a fool to deny it.

Why else would he spit out memories of his childhood and the tyrant father who’d controlled them?

He still couldn’t quite figure out why he’d done it, but there was something about her that made him forget to act like the reckless playboy everyone thought he was. ..

Before they finished their third restaurant “tour”, Neal decided Rachel was more than capable of revamping Matilda’s. She should get the job, and he had no doubt her suggestions would revitalize the place, provide the intimacy and romance she’d mentioned.

Intimacy and romance . He actually liked that idea.

He’d pushed aside his initial idea of asking her for a proposal in order to gather personal details and then not hiring her for the job.

That was just wrong and he’d known it when he first suggested it.

After spending time with her, it seemed even worse.

Neal still had a commitment to honor because he’d promised Meredith, but he also had a personal interest in making sure Rachel was not being taken advantage of by anyone—especially Simon Bainbridge.

And that’s why he’d invited Simon to Matilda’s for a drink. The guy would never turn down top-shelf scotch or a visit to Matilda’s. Couple that with floor seats to the upcoming NBA season’s game of his choice, and the guy rearranged his schedule to meet at 4:00 p.m.

Neal sipped his scotch, wished it were ice water, studied the man who claimed old money permitted a lot of latitude in the area of decorum, and planned his move. They talked about the markets, the parties they’d attended, and the skiing in Tahoe. Boring. Predictable. Annoying.

It was time to lay out the real reason Neal was sitting here, tolerating the pain-in-the-ass guy with the wide smile and too-blonde hair. “The woman you were with the other night at the Westfield Plaza? What’s her name again?” As if he didn’t know. “Rebecca? Reagan?”

Simon’s green eyes sparkled, his voice dipped. “Rachel. She’s something, isn’t she?” He shook his head, blew out a long sigh smothered with attraction and lust. “Those lips… That body… Did you check out her legs?”

Any man with a pulse had noticed all of those things and more.

The amber eyes, perfect complexion, the slender neck…

The full breasts hugging her clothing… Visions of the red halter dress swirled through his memories.

..morphed to the delicate hands with painted red nails…

He bet those hands could do a lot to a man’s body and he bet Simon thought she was going to do that to him.

Like hell. “I did notice, but why is a woman like that hanging around with somebody like you?” Neal made sure he kept his tone light, his smile in place when he asked the question.

“I guess she recognizes top shelf when she sees it. And I know she’ll appreciate it when she tastes it.

” The sleazeball raised his glass, saluted Neal, and downed the rest of his scotch.

“Rachel and I are going to spend a lot of time together… with and without clothes.” He laughed, winked at Neal.

“I would say in and out of bed, but I’m envisioning all sorts of places to spend time with her minus the clothing: the car, a stairwell, a dressing room, even an elevator.

Hmm, the elevator would certainly prove an interesting challenge.

” He set the empty glass on the table, leaned back against the booth.

“Would you press the stop button? Or...not?” Another laugh, a shrug. “I’ll have to think on that one.”

Neal clenched his fist beneath the table, wished he could use it on the guy.

The jerk was talking about Rachel. What would Daniel Reese think if he heard the references about dressing rooms and elevators?

No doubt, there would be no thinking at all.

In fact, the man would probably put a fist to the guy’s face, not care if he broke a nose or blackened an eye.

But Neal had to stay cool so he could find out how Simon and Rachel met and if they planned to see each other again.

Was it because he came from old money and a powerful name?

Or was she enamored with the guy? No, it couldn’t be that.

Rachel wasn’t a fool. Maybe it had been a blind date, maybe that’s all it was.

Couldn’t she tell his jokes were stupid and his lines were manufactured and overused?

Neal pushed aside her potential motives, homed in on the guy sitting across from him.

His motives he did care about. “Didn’t you just meet the woman?

How have you already gone from just met to sex locations? ”

“Are you serious? Are you really asking me that question?” The jerk laughed, pushed his empty glass to the edge of the table for a refill.

“Should I pretend to forget the women whose last names you didn’t even know before you took them home for the night, the afternoon, or wherever, for whatever? Do not get all righteous on me.”

There’d been too many years of sex with strangers and sex with people he didn’t care about or didn’t even like.

But the past few years he’d changed his ways, settled on one woman at a time, and while he might not love them, he did like them, had even grown fond of one or two.

They were predictable, they were not overly demanding, they were fine.

Francesca was the latest “woman in his life” but three months ago she’d started talking about moving in with him, wanting more, looking at her biological clock…

Not in regard to children, but to her body and her face and the wrinkles and sagging.

That’s when the worrying escalated. How long will this face and body be in demand before I have to start seriously committing to surgeries and a maintenance schedule that will just allow me to compete?

I’ll lose the cover gigs… Lose the advertising and the invitations… What will I do then?

She’d looked at him with those pale blue eyes—full lips pulled into a pout that had already invested in too many injections—and teared up.

Francesca wanted a long-term commitment.

That’s when he knew he had to tell her what lay deep inside him, because he was fond of her, and she did deserve better.

I can’t give you what you need, and you deserve someone who can.

You can’t now, or you can’t ever? That tear slid down those high cheekbones, trickled to the elegant neck. One sniff, two, and then, Neal?

I’m not that guy, Francesca. Find someone who is . He pulled her close, planted a kiss on her forehead and told her once again that she deserved better.

Of course, she spent the next two weeks trying to convince him he could give her more if he just opened his heart.

What she didn’t understand was he couldn’t do that—not with her, probably not with anyone.

She didn’t know about his screwed-up childhood, the tyrant father, the fragile mother, the perfect brother, the twin sister who cried when someone looked at her too long.

And him, the boy who kept his real feelings and his fears tucked deep inside while he showed the outside world a prankster who teased and pretended life was a big joke.

And he’d certainly never told her what he’d witnessed at thirteen that had changed his life and his ability to believe in good, truth, and love.

A boy doesn’t witness his father’s secretary leaving the family library in stocking feet, blouse half buttoned, bra sticking out of her purse.

That vision brands itself in the boy’s soul, weighs him down, and forces his soul to close.

Staying quiet is the only way to protect his brother and sister.

And if the rest of the world believes Neal is good for nothing, let them.

His siblings are safe, even if he’s been destroyed.

It would take years for Neal to fight past the belief that he wasn’t good enough...that he was unworthy...

“No comment, Neal? Taking a long, winding trip down memory lane, recalling all the nameless conquests?”

“Not exactly. I’d like to think we’ve matured since we were twenty-two.”

“Matured?” Those green eyes narrowed, sparked. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve matured. I’m more selective now, with more discerning tastes…like Rachel Reese.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant.” Neal polished off his drink, slid his glass to the edge of the table and looked for Dominic.

The staff knew Neal and Dominic were good friends but they didn’t know the extent of that friendship or that it bled into a business partnership.

It was better to remain silent and when Neal showed up in the afternoons or made his way into Dominic’s office, which was also Neal’s office—the staff believed he was just filling his day, offering advice on the menu or cocktails selections based on years of time spent in restaurants.

“Is this new one a conquest or are you looking for Paulina’s replacement?

” Paulina had been Simon’s girlfriend until she demanded a ring and he refused.

Everyone knew about it, the scene, the tears, Simon’s insistence that he wasn’t ready.

The expression on the guy’s face said Neal was way off base with that question. “You mean am I interested in a relationship with her, like long-term?”

“Right. Long-term.”

“Of course not. Why would you think that?” The jerk shook his head, dragged a hand over his face. The light above caught the gleam of his manicured nails, made Neal half wish Rachel Reese’s brother were here so he could drive a fist into the guy’s face.

“You seemed pretty intrigued.”

A flash of white teeth and then “Ah, I see what’s happening here. You’re interested in her.” A laugh, followed by “No problem, I’ll share, but I spotted her first so you’ll have to wait your turn.”

Neal eyed him. “Wait my turn?”

“Right. She’s mine for now.” Pause and a soft “Rachel wasn’t a casual meet-and-greet in a coffee shop or a boardroom.”

The smug look and word choice made Neal suspicious. “You found her on a dating app?” Rachel had been on a dating app?

“Do I look like the kind of guy who requires a dating app to find a woman? No, she’s not from a dating app. Let’s just say the place I used provides specific parameters.”

Neal coughed, cleared his throat. “An escort service?” Rachel was an escort? He’d never seen that one coming and—

“That’s right.”

If the waiter hadn’t appeared with fresh drinks at that exact moment, Neal might’ve been the one reaching across the table to slug the guy. People thought Neal was easygoing, not given to anger or rage, but this was Rachel.

“She’s a real beauty, isn’t she?” Simon lifted his glass, took a sip. Smiled. That damn smile was so arrogant, so predictable, almost as predictable as the words that followed. “If you’re interested, I’ll send her information and you can give her a try…but not until I’m finished.”

Neal forced his voice to remain even, his expression calm. “That’s generous of you. What do you think she’d say if she knew you were talking about her like she was a side of beef?”

A shrug, a casual “I don’t know, but she knows the deal. She’s agreed to it, so I’m not sure that’s an issue. It all comes down to consenting adults and money. I mean, really, what’s the problem?”