Billionaire Bartender: A Second Chance Romance (The Buckeye Series) (4 page)

“Liz, be reasonable.”

She laughed at his request. “That’s the beauty of divorce. I don’t have to. Call my attorney next time.”

Hanging up, she felt both triumphant and defeated. Above that, she was furious and wanted to smash her phone to the ground. Instead she tucked it into her bra, covered her face and screamed into her hands.

Expelling all her anger, she took a deep breath and pulled herself together to go back inside for the stiffest drink Angela could pour. She yanked on the back door handle and it came flying open toward her. Along with the door, Oscar and Mitch tumbled out into her.

“You alright?” Oscar asked. He reached to steady Liz, while keeping one arm around Mitch to hold him upright.

“Buzzzz. You walking me home too?” Mitch asked, flopping his arm over her shoulder.

“He’s only four houses down the alley. Want to tag along?”

“Why not?” Liz squeezed Mitch around the waist. “Let’s get the silver fox back home to his cozy den.”

Mitch rested his head on Liz’s shoulder and trudged down the alley between the couple.

“Did you return your call?”

“Humph,” she scoffed. “It was Chris. My ex. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Understood.”

“I have a bad ex,” Mitch slurred. “No, wait she’s one of those . . . those . . .” He searched for the right word to use.

“Spouse? Wife?” Oscar offered. “You’re still married.”

“I was thinking of something else. It’s on the tip of my tongue, but we’ll go with wife.”

The walk was short. At their destination, they stopped at the one and only gate built in the block of chain link fences dividing the yards from the alley.

“The lights are off. You’re safe to go inside,” Oscar said, opening the gate.

Mitch took Liz’s hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss, but just as it scuffed his beard, he yelled, “Bitch!” Letting go, he jerked his arm across his chest and pointed over his shoulder to the house. “That’s what she is.”

“His wife’s pretty bad,” Oscar said. “That’s why he comes to the Buckeye. But that’s a story for another time.”

Mitch spun back around to Liz. “You—you need to come back.” He flicked her bumblebee antennae. “I like you.”

“I like you too, Mitch.” She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

“Zom-Bee,” he said, commenting on the couple’s Halloween costumes. “You two make a good pair.” He leaned up to Oscar’s ear. “I don’t think she’ll go for me. You should take a chance.”

“Got it. Go inside.” Oscar turned him around and closed the gate behind him. After a final wave, he laced his fingers in Liz’s for the walk back to the bar.

“He’s adorable,” she commented about Mitch, trying to mask her heart racing over Oscar’s gesture to hold her hand.

“That’s how we lure you in. Introduce you to nice old men. They butter you up and you keep coming back for more.”

“I think . . . if I return . . . I’ll be back to see someone else.” Liz fluttered her eyes. Another move she was shocked she’d used to flirt with Oscar.

“Andy? Baseball season’s almost over. You’d better make your move fast.”

“I want to see you.” She stopped in her tracks. A blast of cold night air blew past them, chilling Liz in her thin costume. She loosened from his grip and hugged herself, shaking off her shivers.

Oscar took his flannel shirt off, “Ohh,” Liz moaned under her breath, staring at his chest muscles, squeezed in a taut black t-shirt.

He held out his plaid offering and she slipped her arms in the sleeves. Letting his hands linger around her waist, she twirled around, face to face.

He gently untucked her hair out from the collar in the back. Keeping a hold of a curl, he looped it around his finger as he brought the lock around to the front.

Liz was caught off guard by his tenderness. She’d only known him for a few hours and this one gesture was more seductive than anything her husband had attempted to try over years of marriage. She wanted to hold on to this moment forever, but it had already lasted too long. She twisted in his arms.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked in a whisper. His lips grazed over the bridge of her nose. It was tantalizingly sensual being so close and waiting for his kiss.

She twitched and licked her lips preparing for his touch to come. Inhaling deeply, his lips paused on the apple of her cheek.
Almost. One more intake of breath and . . . intoxication.

His kiss was deliriously gentle, lingering lips on lips. His tongue tasted her mouth, but did not claim it. He pulled back, flashing Liz a slow sexy smile.

“Got a little fake blood on you.” He wiped his thumb in the corner of her red stained lips.

“It’ll wash.” She tiptoed up and kissed him. She wanted to prove that she wanted to be in his arms, even if it was for just one night.

Gentle pecks, exploded voraciously into tongues probing, fueling their passion. She inhaled his air, matching his gasps between kisses.

Fighting carnal urges, he stepped back, keeping a tight grip on her hands at arms length. Taking a deep breath, he regained control of his urges.

“I should go,” Liz said, speaking first.

He hugged her hard and once again, she melted in his arms. “Wait, how many drinks have you had?” he asked.

“Less than two. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I can drive you home.”

“Better not.”

“That’s my favorite shirt you’re wearing. Will I see it again? Tomorrow? I’m working, but it’ll be slow.”

She hugged the cloth close to her body and stepped away. “I’ll bring it back. I promise.” With butterflies in her stomach, she turned to walk around the outside of the building to her car parked out front. She blew a kiss to him at the corner. “Bye.”

Oscar waved and pulled the handle on the back door, disappearing into the Buckeye.

Did tonight really happen?
she asked herself.

Chapter Seven

The bar was quiet when Oscar reentered through the back door. No one announced his reentry. He strolled up to the counter and placed both palms under the hinged partition to step behind.

“Uh, uh!” Angela slapped the bar top. “You stay on that side. It’s your night off.”

“Fine.” He held his hands up and sat down on a seat. “Where’d the crowd go?”

“Some costume contest at the Lizard Lounge,” Angela answered, wiping down stainless steel shaker parts and setting them on a towel to dry.

“Figures.” Oscar slumped his elbow on the bar and rested his chin on his fist.

“You look like you need a shot of Jager.” She swatted at him with her towel. “What happened out there with Liz? Did you screw things up?”

“She stung him good,” Dale said, walking up behind Oscar and sitting down on the stool next to him. “A little meat tenderizer will stop the tingling.”

“Tell me everything.” Angela crossed her arms and leaned back to listen.

“They were in the alleyway and Oscar gave her the shirt off his back,” Dale said.

“Then what?” Angela leaned forward in interest.

“That’s enough.” Oscar put a stop to the schoolyard gossip version of his actions “Dale, don’t you have some other bar to go to? Or some contest to win?”

“Not me. I’m hanging out here until it’s time to go see some real action.”

“Ghost hunting?” Oscar smirked and took a drink of the water Angela had set down in front of him.

“Don’t say it like that. It’s a paranormal investigation excursion.” Dale slammed his fist into Oscar’s bicep. “Hey, why don’t you tag along?”

Oscar blocked Dale’s request by wagging his finger in his face. “Uh, uh. Not since Chad. Nothing doing.”

“Chad was not my fault.”

“He’s the only one that’s been out on one of your excursions and no one’s seen him since.” Oscar left his seat and this time Angela let him behind the bar. He opened the register with a no sale and counted down the money.

“Did you get the scoop on Liz’s divorce?” Angela asked. “How soon is that happening?”

“Didn’t talk about it.” Oscar bundled the large bills and left them under the drawer. “He was the phonemail she returned though.”

“Then they kissed,” Dale added.

“You don’t want to be the rebound guy,” Angela said, bumping her hip into his.

“Oscar? Rebound?” Dale waved his hands in the air like crazy. “He’s a billionaire. That title alone always keeps you out of the rebound category. Did you tell her about your money?”

“It didn’t come up.” Oscar walked away from the conversation to lock the front door behind the last customer.

“How could having a billion dollars in your bank account not come up?” Dale called out to him.

 
Oscar treated his wealth like a big secret, but even with no other patrons in the bar, Dale was chastised for his outburst. “Shush! I don’t flash it around.” Oscar stepped up to the small framed man. Neither one was very tall, but Oscar still had a few inches over him. “Been there. Besides I get the feeling Liz isn’t into wealthy men.”

“She did resent the fact her husband replaced her wedding ring with a bigger one. Talked like she would’ve preferred her original smaller one.”

“See. How can I tell her I can afford to buy the whole damn jewelry store? I’d look worse than her husband.” Oscar addressed both Dale and Angela. “You have to keep this a secret. Liz can’t find out I’m on the billionaire top one hundred list.”

“I’ll never get you,” Dale said. “You’ve got everything and live like you don’t. And now you’re going to lie to the most seductive, attractive, woman that’s ever walked through those doors. How do you think this is going to turn out?”

“I’ll deal with it. For now, don’t tell her.” Oscar walked to exit out the back door. Dale and Angela followed him.

“You really like her?” Angela asked, flipping the main light switch. Oscar pulled the door shut behind her, locked it, and handed her the keys.

“There’s something there. I can’t explain it. But I really hope she comes back.” Oscar walked Angela to her car and held the door open for her to ease into the driver’s seat.

“She will. I know women and she’ll be back. If she doesn’t we’ll torture Bill.”

“Torture Bill.” Oscar nodded. “Yep, it’s his fault. Goodnight Angela.”

Before heading home, Oscar wanted more time alone to think about this amazing woman that’d just walked into his life. He drove his truck to his favorite place to ponder.

“Evening, Mr. Wallace,” the night attendant at the parking garage for the Westwall Tower said. “Eat any good brains tonight?”

“Excuse me?” Oscar asked, forgetting he was still in full zombie makeup.

“Your costume.”

Right.” Oscar checked his reflection in the rear view mirror. “Afraid I’m still hungry. Could you raise the gate?”

“Sure thing, Mr. Wallace. The building’s closed for the night, though.”

“It’s alright. Just need a quiet place to park. Won’t even get out of the truck.”

“You’re the boss,” the attendant said and pushed the gate release button.

Oscar drove up the empty lanes to the top of the parking structure. He backed the truck up in a space along the furthest edge and even though he said he wouldn’t, he stepped out of the driver’s door. Walking around to the back of his vehicle, he stood between the truck-bed and the barrier of the structure.

“Look at that beautiful sky,” he said, to the twinkling lights of the city stretching out below him. “I’d love to share this with you Liz.”

He stared off into the distance, studying the city before him. “All those buildings. All the places you could choose to spend Halloween and you walk into my bar. How close have our paths crossed? How many times did I drive Bill home drunk? He urged you to come to the Buckeye, but you never did. Until tonight. Why?”

He paced along the edge of the structure wall. Searching the sky and the lights below to answer him.

“I’ve known Bill for six, maybe seven years. How many of those years have you been unhappy? How long have you been looking for a man like me? I’ve been searching awhile for a woman as perfect as you. It’s been eight years since Julie left with Stacie. Of course you wouldn’t have wanted me right after my divorce. I was lost. But now. I’m a changed man.”

He stopped and rubbed his forehead, then fell to his knees.

“Oh, Liz, don’t go through what I did. Whatever it takes. Whatever I have to do. Hide my billions or tell you everything. I’ll do it. I want to make you happy at all costs. I can only dare to dream that you’d share your happiness with me. Please come back to the Buckeye. Give me a chance to see if this feeling I have is true love. Or just another mistake.”

He bent his neck back, looking up into the night sky. “Let it be love.”

Chapter Eight

The drive home was riddled with many more questions bombarding Oscar. She’d really grabbed a hold of him with her kiss. Winding through the hills of his affluent neighborhood with large lots and mansion sized homes, he continued to replay the nights earlier events. He turned in at address and drove around to the side garage. When the overhead door opened he was surprised to see his teenaged daughter’s vehicle parked in her spot of the four car garage.

It was late and Halloween. Stacie had left before him, dressed as a pirate winch and was supposed to be staying the night at a friend’s house. She was only fifteen and he immediately worried about who she’d brought home as a designated driver.

“Hey. Where’s your shirt?” Stacie greeted him in the kitchen. In the next room a horror movie scream blasted from the television speakers. “Stephen King marathon. Want to watch with?”

“Not particularly. How did you get home? Who’s here?” He bunched her wild curly hair up in his hand and looked over her shoulder through the open kitchen into the adjacent media room.

“No one. I came home alone. Make me a sandwich.” She smiled big and fluttered her eyelashes at him. This trick had a different effect on him coming from his daughter than it had earlier when Liz performed it.

“You know you’re not supposed to drive alone.” He opened the fridge. “Turkey or ham,” he sighed.

“Both.” She grabbed a canned soda and sat at the center island. “Why’d you come home? No sexy witches at your bar tonight?”

“Don’t turn the tables on me.” He spread out all the fixings for the sandwiches on the marble topped island in the kitchen. “What happened to staying at Brandy’s house?”