Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

SIMON

I had retreated back to Dallas. Staying in Houston wasn't safe. People wanted me to hang from the rafters. They didn't like me much right now. Dallas was marginally safer. At least my family's good name provided some protection. I parked my car at the country club and waited for Lenny. I didn't want to spend another day in the office taking calls and basically kissing everyone's ass one minute and then ripping into the people that had dropped the ball and let the accident happen.

I figured a little time on the links would help clear my head. I needed fresh air. And a friendly face. I saw his car pull in and opened my trunk to grab my clubs.

"I get to be fancy today." Lenny chuckled, his clubs over his shoulder.

"At least here I'll have a semblance of privacy," I muttered. "Hopefully, the club will do their job and not let anyone from the media in."

"Has it been that bad?" he asked.

"Worse," I replied.

We walked into the club. Plenty of people looked our way, but none of them said anything. I happened to know there were plenty of members that were in the oil business. They knew shit like this happened. They better not start judging me.

We headed out to the course and teed off. The sun was high in the sky and a slight breeze blew across the grass. The course was both a sanctuary and an escape. For once, I could pretend to be just Simon, not the oil empire mogul with a PR crisis on his hands. Just Simon, the super wealthy guy who could golf in the middle of a workday.

No wonder people hated me.

"Simon," Lenny said as we set up at the fourth hole. "I know you're pissed at what happened back in Houston. But it isn't the end of the world."

"I know," I said gruffly, not looking at him as I lined up my shot.

The thwack of the club hitting the ball echoed around us. It soared through the air and then landed neatly on the green.

I stepped back and let him take his turn. "It's not about the spill. I mean, that sucks, but I fucked up."

He hit his ball. We both watched it until it landed. He turned to me. "How did you fuck up?"

I was still trying to process everything that went down in Houston. The oil spill, the rattled employees, and their incredible efforts to repair the damage. The furious mob. And Rylee. My cut eyebrow and bruised ego from how she left me naked and alone after coming all the way out there to see me were still fresh wounds.

"After nearly getting killed by an unruly mob, I went to a hotel. Rylee had texted me earlier asking if I was okay. She put herself out there. I accepted her offer."

"What does that mean?" he asked.

We started walking to the next hole. "I sent a car to pick her up and take her to Houston."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to talk to her."

"You know they make this thing called a phone," he said dryly.

"I didn't want to talk on the phone."

"Ah, you wanted to see her." He winked.

"No. Not like that. I was just feeling a little?—"

"Lonely?" He filled in the blank.

"It doesn't make sense," I said, winding back and smacking the ball off the tee. It soared through the air. I turned to Lenny, who was giving me a strange look. "She came all the way out there to see me, and then I say one wrong thing, and she heads all the way back to Dallas?"

Lenny shrugged. "What do you want me to say?"

I sighed, frustrated. "I want you to tell me where I went wrong."

"What did you say?" he asked. "I'm guessing that's where you went wrong."

"Without getting into details, we had sex. Things were good. We talked. We had champagne. It was good."

"And then?"

"I told her she was exactly what I needed. It helped me clear my head and regroup. She got pissed and pretty much fled the room. I don't know why she got so pissed. What was so wrong about that?"

Lenny laughed. "Do you want me to only pick one thing?"

"Fuck off."

Lenny got a little more serious. "Simon, normal people, with normal jobs and normal responsibilities, don't have the luxury of taking a long paid-for drive to another city to hook up with someone. And when they do, it's pretty special."

He had a point. Rylee was a bartender, saving every penny for her trip. She didn't have the kind of money to waste on a whim.

"And by the sounds of things you made it sound pretty un-special by the end of the night. Like a booty call or, dare I say, hired entertainment. You got her there in what I imagine was a fancy car and a luxury hotel room. She's thinking she's special. Of all the people in the world, you called her. Then she gets there and you have sex and you essentially tell her thank you. You don't thank a woman for sex."

"I didn't thank her per se ," I said. "I was just relieved to have her there."

"But that isn't what you said," he corrected. "Did you thank her for making the trip? Tell her you appreciated her taking time out of her day to get to you? You don't think she had other things to do? For a woman that you don't really know, to hop in a car and travel to you, I think that indicates she wanted more than a friendship. Or a booty call."

I blinked. Shit. Was it really that simple? Had I overlooked her effort to get to me? Misinterpreted why she had come all that way? How many wrong assumptions had I made?

"A girl like that doesn't drive three and a half hours to help you blow off steam, Simon," Lenny said, taking his turn. "A girl like that has better things to do with her time and her money than chase after you. No offense. But she did chase. Which means…"

I just blinked, still trying to grasp the implications.

Lenny swung before he turned to look at me with a cocky grin. "She likes you, dude. Or at least, she did. And you know how hard it is to come by someone who likes you for you and doesn't put up with you just because you're rich or a family member?"

I frowned. Good point. The only people who loved me in this world were my mother, my sister even though it was a hate-filled kind of love, and Lenny—not that he'd ever admit it.

I felt guilt in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't remember the last time I felt that. We continued our game, but my mind was elsewhere. My thoughts were with Rylee, who I knew was boarding a plane today to fly to Rome. Would she have a good trip? Would she be safe? Would she miss me? Did she truly hate me?

I missed my swing and nearly pitched forward, catching myself just in time.

Lenny laughed hysterically. "Dude, she's fucking with your head more than I thought!"

I glared at him, but he just kept laughing. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. Lenny wasn't wrong. Rylee had gotten under my skin in a way no one else ever had.

"What do I do, Lenny?" I asked, a hint of desperation in my voice.

Lenny's laughter died down, and he looked at me seriously. "You figure out what she means to you, Simon. If she's worth it, you go after her. Apologize. Make it right. Show her you're not just some self-centered asshole."

I nodded, taking in his words. I had to make it right. Rylee was different. She saw through my bullshit, and she didn't care about my money or my status. She cared about me, or at least she had .

"Alright," I said, feeling a sense of determination. "I'm going to fix this."

"That's the spirit. Now, let's see if you can actually hit a ball without falling over."

I smirked, lining up for another shot. I had to make it right. I had to show her I was worth her time and effort.

The ball soared through the air, and I felt a small sense of satisfaction. But the real challenge lay ahead. I needed to figure out how to win Rylee back.

We finished our game and went to the clubhouse to get a drink.

"For what it's worth, I think Rylee is a good lady," he said. "She's fun. She doesn't seem to give a shit about what other people think. That's something you could use in your life. I think you need to try and fix this. That day at the party, you were happy. It's been a long time since I've seen you like that. She's good for you."

"She's different," I said. "I can't explain it."

"You don't have to." He shrugged. "I get it."

I checked the time and saw it was time to go. "I'll see you later. I've got to sign the paperwork for the estate I just bought here in Dallas."

"Shit, I forgot you were doing that," he said. "When's the housewarming party?"

I laughed. "I don't know."

"Does your mom know you bought it?"

I shook my head. "Nah. She would just lecture me about buying such a big place for myself. She's told me several times I can stay at the house with her, but?—"

"That would cramp your style." He chuckled.

"You know me too well, Lenny. But honestly, it makes sense to have a place here. And with the recent negative publicity, I don't want to bring that to her."

With that, I left the golf course and headed toward the title company. The house was supposed to be something to celebrate. Rylee was the only one I wanted to bring to my house. It wasn't that I was going to brag about the house, but I knew she would appreciate it, like she did with my car.

The agent greeted me with a wide smile as I walked in. He led me to his office where we spent the next hour going over every minute detail of the paperwork. As I signed on the dotted lines, I wondered if there would ever be a chance Rylee would come to my house. How would she react when she found out about the mansion? Would she think it was too excessive or would she appreciate all the amenities?

After concluding the formalities, I was given the keys. I drove out to the estate property. I walked into the large foyer and couldn't help but smile. I had bought some of the furniture from the seller, but the house was still empty. After walking through every room and deciding it was all in order, I headed back to the hotel. I had barely stepped foot out of my car when I was swarmed by screaming protesters.

"Shit," I muttered and got right back in the car.

I should have known it would only be a matter of time before they figured out where I was staying. I drove right back to my new house. At least I had a gated driveway to keep the protestors and photographers at bay.

Later that evening, I sat in what would be my office, staring at my phone. I had no idea where to start when it came to making things right with Rylee. Should I call her? Text her? Show up at her door? The more I thought about it, the more I realized I didn't know much about winning someone back. In business, I was decisive and confident. But in matters of the heart, I was clueless.

I decided to send a text, something simple to start.

"Hey, Rylee, I've been thinking a lot about what happened. I'm really sorry for how things went down. Can we talk?"

I sent the message and waited for a reply that never came.