Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

RYLEE

" Y ou guys," I scolded Ward and the others. "Can't you see he's not comfortable with all your teasing? There's more to him than his money, and you guys are too narrow to even consider it."

Ward rolled his eyes, but Jameson looked thoughtful. "Maybe we were too harsh," he admitted, reaching for the pitcher of beer I had brought over.

"Too harsh is an understatement," I said sharply, grabbing a seat next to them. "He comes in here every night, never causes a scene, always leaves generous tips, and you guys just treat him like some kind of villain."

"And what do you want us to do, Rylee?" Ward asked. "I thought you didn't like him?"

"I said he's obnoxious," I corrected. "But that doesn't mean he deserves to be treated like some kind of pariah. He's more than just a wealthy customer to me. There's something about him. I don't know, a certain vulnerability that you guys seem to ignore."

Jameson raised an eyebrow at me, his face unreadable. "You sound like you're defending him."

"I'm not…" I started to argue, but then I stopped. I was defending him. Why shouldn't I? Wasn't he human too? Deserving of kindness and respect? Even if he was rich.

"Maybe I am," I finally said, meeting Jameson's gaze head on.

"She does this," Mary Ellen said. "She's all hard and prickly on the outside, but she likes the broken guys."

I rolled my eyes. "I do not."

"You do." Lauren nodded. "Which is why you end up with the assholes. A broken man is a broken man. Some are just not ready to be fixed."

"Hey," Archer argued. "I was broken. Mary Ellen saw the good in me."

"You were never broken." Mary Ellen smiled. "You pretended like you were, but you're not."

I shot a glance at Archer and Mary Ellen, laughing together in private mutual understanding. Their relationship was the kind of thing I'd always wanted but never found.

"Okay," Jameson said, setting down his beer. "We'll take it easy. I guess we don't know much about the guy."

"Just the fact there are probably three people in the world that like him," Ward muttered.

"And he's cutthroat," Lauren added.

"And he's ridiculously rich." Jenny smiled.

"Because he's done anything and everything to get rich," Ward said.

I knew Simon's reputation and I certainly gave him a hard time about it, but I did feel a little bad for talking bad about him. Yes, he was obnoxious and drove me nuts, but there was something endearing about him. Maybe it was the broken man thing. I like them damaged. I was a glutton for punishment.

I made my way back up to the bar to see if Simon needed a fresh beer before I clocked out for the night. I walked down to where he had been sitting and saw he was gone. The hundred on the counter was a surprise.

"Hey, did you see if the guy sitting here went to the bathroom?" I asked the guy sitting a couple of stools over.

"Pretty sure he left." He shrugged.

"What? When?"

"A few minutes ago. Five maybe."

I sighed, picking up the money and cashing out his bill. I felt guilty for taking the tip after the shitty service I gave him. I wasn't surprised he left after the way Ward and the others talked to him and about him loud enough for him to hear.

Simon didn't deserve the way my friends treated him. I should have stopped them. The guy might be an asshole, but he hadn't done anything to me except flirt. Now I felt guilty. No one deserved to be treated like that.

I glanced around, making sure everything was in order, and then headed outside to see if there was a chance I could catch up with him. I heard Mary Ellen call out my name, but I kept going. I was a lot of things, but mean was not one of them.

I looked left and right. There was a hotel not too far away, a place I imagined a man like him would probably be staying. I spotted him at the street corner, illuminated by the neon sign of a convenience store. He looked mysterious and, I hated to admit, incredibly hot. Tonight, he had ditched the suit and looked almost human. A very sexy human.

Damn it, Rylee.

I took a deep breath and jogged down the sidewalk. "Hey!" I called out just as he started to cross the street.

He turned, surprised to see me. "Rylee, what are you doing out here?"

"I wanted to apologize for my friends giving you a hard time," I said, feeling a bit sheepish.

"It's okay," he replied, offering a small smile.

"It's not okay," I said softly.

"It's cool," he said. "They're good friends. I'm the one who should be sorry. I've been a bit of a nuisance hanging around your bar, haven't I?"

I managed a smile in return. "Finally, you're catching on."

He flashed a cocky smile. I cursed myself for finding it sexy. "I'll stop bothering you," he said. "You've given me your answer more than enough times, and I've been rude ignoring it. I was just fucking around. I didn't realize it was being taken so seriously."

"I'm a big girl. I can handle being annoyed." I smiled.

He nodded once, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "Have a great time abroad. And by the way, go to the Colosseum at night, not daytime. Do the walking tours yourself in the opposite direction to avoid crowds. Don't go to any of the big attractions on a weekend. And always ask for food prices at restaurants before you order to avoid getting ripped off."

I was taken aback by his sincerity. "Thanks. Sounds like advice from someone who's done a fair bit of traveling."

He nodded. "I've seen my fair share of the world."

We somehow lost track of the conversation as I asked him about his travels. We leaned against the brick wall of the convenience store, chatting like old friends.

"Where is your favorite place to visit?" I asked him.

He took a long moment before answering, his gaze distant. At first, I thought he might not answer. "Valencia," he finally said, his eyes meeting mine. "In Spain. There's something about it, you know, the orange blossoms in the spring and the sunsets. It's beautiful."

I watched him as he spoke. There was a normal quality about him. One I had not seen in him before. The cockiness was gone.

"Hey, I'm thirsty. I'm going to run in and get a drink. Want something?"

"Sure." I nodded.

He disappeared into the store, leaving me alone with my thoughts by the neon lights. His kindness had caught me off guard. I had pegged him as some rich, arrogant jerk, but maybe I'd misjudged him.

The doorbell chimed as he returned, carrying two bottles of water and a small paper bag. He handed me one of the bottles and we both took long sips, the cold liquid feeling good after a long night at work.

"Here," he said, passing me the paper bag. I looked inside to find a small pastry. "Figured you hadn't eaten yet."

I smiled. "You're not wrong."

We started walking. Neither of us talked about walking. We just did it.

"Should you get back to your friends?" he asked.

"I will eventually," I said. "They're all having a good time back at the bar, I'm sure."

"How long have you known them?" he asked.

"The guys have come into our lives over the last year or so. The ladies and I used to live together. We've known each other forever."

He nodded.

"They're good guys, just a little overprotective," I added.

"I noticed," he quipped.

We walked by the hotel and ended up in the parking lot. I wasn't concerned about the destination. Eventually, he stopped at a slick black Mercedes.

"I need to grab something," he said.

The car was an absolute beauty that I couldn't help but admire. "This is the nicest car I've ever seen," I commented.

He grinned. "Want to check out the interior?"

I hesitated for a moment but then nodded. Inside, the car smelled of luxury and wealth. Simon slid into the driver's seat. The scent of his cologne filled the small space. I wondered how much it cost. It had all the bells and whistles, and the leather was so soft and smooth. I felt like I was sitting on a cloud.

"This is nice," I said with a smile. "I could see taking a long road trip in this thing."

He chuckled. "It's a nice, smooth ride."

I ran my hand across the dash that was sleek with a large screen. It all looked so fancy. I was guessing it had to have cost at least six figures. "It's nice."

He shook his head. "I used to dream about owning a car like this when I was younger. Now that I do, I don't appreciate it the way I should."

I laughed. "You mean you don't take your car on dates and spend quality time with it."

He grinned. "I do make sure it gets quality time in the shop and I have a special detailer that comes to my house to keep it looking like new."

"I bet you don't eat or drink in this car," I joked.

"I do. Not often, but with my schedule, it's impossible not to. Which is why I have a guy that cleans up every crumb and drop of condensation."

"I've heard you can tell a lot about a man by the way he takes care of his car." I laughed.

"Oh really?" He raised an eyebrow, a playful grin on his lips. "And what does my car tell you about me?"

"Well," I began, looking around the interior once more. "It's clean and well kept, so you obviously value your possessions. But you also use it for practical purposes like eating and even take it to the shop regularly, meaning you're not overly precious about it."

"Good eye." He smirked, clearly enjoying our light banter.

"But," I continued. "On the other hand, you have a detailer come to clean it up and keep it looking new. So maybe you care about appearances or what other people think. Or perhaps you just like order and neatness."

"I suppose there's some truth to all of that," he mused, his smile fading slightly as he looked away from me and out the window for a second. "This car is like armor, you know? It protects me. It tells people I'm successful when I don't always feel that way inside."

I blinked in surprise. "That was deeper than I expected."

He laughed, and the tension broke. "Does that make me sound too dramatic?"

"No," I said thoughtfully. "It just makes you sound human."

"Maybe I'll give it to my nephew when he turns sixteen," he mumbled. "I can buy twenty cars. I don't think I want a car to define me."

I scoffed. "That would be idiotic. A sixteen-year-old wouldn't know what to do with a car like this. Perhaps you should just worry about what to get him this year. He's how old, you said? Ten?"

He nodded.

I smiled. "We'll think of something together."

Simon's eyes lit up. "I have a better idea." He pulled out his phone and made a mysterious call. After a few moments, he hung up and turned to me. "Are you up for an adventure?"

I had a feeling I should say no, but instead, I found myself agreeing. "Sure, why not?"

"Buckle up," he said with a grin.

We drove through the city, the lights blurring past us. I had no idea where we were going, but the thrill of the unknown was exhilarating. Simon seemed more relaxed, more genuine than I had ever seen him. This was not the same man that had a bad reputation.