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“Tyler—” I begin, but he’s already on his feet.
“Don’t, Kat. If this is what you want, then go right ahead. But don’t call me when it doesn’t go quite the way you’d planned.”
I look down at the ground as the tears begin to pool in my eyes.
“Oh, and one more thing,” he says and points his finger at me. “Don’t call me to pick you up from the airport when this all blows up in your face.”
Chapter 1
Jameson
Jameson York lifts his hand to get the attention of the young man standing behind the counter.
“Yes, sir?” The twenty-something-year-old bartender walks over and tosses the white cotton bar towel over his shoulder. “Ready for another?”
“Go ahead and make it a double. And the two ladies down there,” Jameson nods his head towards the two gorgeous blondes at the opposite end of the bar. “Give them another round too…on me.”
Though neither seem to have paid him any attention, now would be a good time for them to look up. Especially since he’s had a little whiskey. There’s no telling what might come out of his mouth.
Jameson shifts in his seat, repositioning his feet on the bottom rung of the bar stool as well as the bulge in his trousers. Picking up women in a bar isn’t really his thing—he’s more of a wine ‘em and dine ‘em kind of guy—but he knows a pretty lady, in this case two of them, when he sees one. And there’s nothing wrong with letting a woman know how attractive she is.
The blonde on the right tosses her head back, obviously from something funny shared between the two of them. The light catches the sequins on her strappy top, causing him to notice how well-endowed she is.
Damn, those are some nice tits, Jameson says to himself and lifts the rim of his glass to his lips. A faint hint of a smile spreads across his face. Suddenly, she bends down to pick up something from the floor and Jameson leans forward, hoping to catch a glimpse of what’s underneath the thin, shimmery fabric.
“Here ya go.” The bartender places a napkin down on the bar and sets his new glass on top of it. “Anything else I can get for you?”
Jameson isn’t happy that the young man is blocking his view, but he doesn’t want to make it obvious how turned on he is just from watching the two women having a good time.
“Have you made theirs yet?” he asks and shifts to the right a little so he’s able to see them again.
The bartender takes notice and follows his gaze. “I’m headed over there next. Is there anything you’d like me to tell them? Perhaps you’d like to write your phone number down on a napkin.”
Jameson jerks his head around just as a strong hand grips the top of his shoulder. “Jameson York. I’m surprised to see you here tonight,” a deep male voice says from behind him. “Figured you’d be celebrating with a filet and bottle of Dom Perignon. It’s not everyday someone gets a heck of a deal like you just did.”
“Houston, long time no see, buddy. How’s it going?” He thrusts his hand forward, delighted to see his friend and former colleague, Houston Graham.
Jameson and Houston first met in real estate school many years ago and later went on to work together for Schuler Real Estate Company. When Jameson realized how much money he could make working for himself as a seller and an investor, especially with how hot the market was at the time, he broke away to form his own company, Jameson York, Realtor. And he’d never looked back. He often wondered why Houston never ventured out on his own or invested in some of the deals that often came his way, but it wasn’t long after leaving SREC that Houston got married and started to settle down.
Jameson, on the other hand, was still aiming for the top. Scooping up property at rock bottom prices then flipping it when the timing was right. The last thing he needed was a woman holding him back. Better yet, a woman spending his money.
Not that he was greedy, but the moment one started to latch on, it was time to cut her loose.
Each month, his sales figures climbed higher and higher, doubling and tripling what he’d made in years prior.
At thirty-eight, Jameson was living the dream. There wasn’t a single thing he’d gone without and if he were being honest, retirement was starting to have a nice sound to it. After the deal he’d sealed today, he was ready for a breather. Possibly, a vacation to somewhere fun and relaxing.
He wasn’t sure why he’d needed to buy ten apartment complexes spanning across six states, but after countless days and nights of negotiations, he’d thrown out a low-ball figure, never expecting the previous owner to accept it. He knew a couple of the properties were going to need quite a bit of work—okay, a lot of work—but it was an all-or-nothing deal. He’d do a few upgrades, decide on the ones he wanted to keep, then reach out to a few investors.
Houston runs his free hand over his wife’s mid-section while clenching a beer in the other. “We’re doing well. Got baby number three on the way.”
“Congratulations!” Jameson raises his tumbler towards Houston. “Boy or girl?”
“The ultrasound shows it’s a girl, but I still think we might have a boy lurking around in there. Maybe next time we can catchhimwith his legs open.” Houston leans over and kisses his wife on the cheek. “Seriously though, we’re happy with either. As long as the baby’s healthy.”
“I hear ya. Here’s to a healthy baby.”
At this point in his life, Jameson has all but given up on having kids. Unless he meets someone that already has children, the idea of exploring daycare options in his forties doesn’t sound the least bit appealing.
