Page 27 of The Cowboy and the Bombshell
I had heard more from Harold in the last month than I had in the entire time I had been employed by Pennington Hotels. He had jumped into this theme with both feet. It actually surprised me, seeing as he spent little to no time in Texas with us. Yet, he was acting like he had been a cowboy all his life. The other day, he called in the middle of the day to ask me which Spaghetti Western film was my favorite. I was totally shocked by the question, but managed to spit outA Fist Full of Dollars, not only because it was the seminal classic of the entire genre, but because it has Clint Eastwood in a poncho, and you just don’t get shit like that anymore. John Wayne movies were great, but there was something about Clint Eastwood and that short cigar that just made the whole Spaghetti Western classic.
My father and I talked about it for almost half and hour, and I couldn’t remember a time when we had just…talked. It was strangely comfortable, and as such, made me strangelyuncomfortable. I was not used to talking to him like a dad. And as I hung up the phone, feeling a mix of things I wasn’t sure what to do with, I realized that a big part of the reason Harold had never been a dad to me was my own stubborn pride.
“Anyway,” I went on, shaking off the thoughts of my father. “What are you doing here? It’s late.”
“Exactly. Everyone left hours ago. I came to drag you away.” Silas walked over and seated himself in one of the chairs facing my desk, leaning back. Even relaxed as he was, you could see the coiled strength in him. His eyes were alert and constantly moving. He never turned it off. It was what made him such an excellent security chief.
It was also the reason he didn’t sleep at night, but he didn’t know that I knew that.
“I still have a shit-ton of work to do,” I stated, gesturing broadly to the piles of things scattered around my office. The final decisions on things like curtains had to be finished by Monday. We had an interior design department, but I wanted to have Daphne take a look at their final choices. She had been going to school for this stuff and I wanted her opinion. I asked her to come by the office today when her classes finished, but she said she had plans. I was going to bring the samples to the house for her to look over.
“And that shit-ton of work will still be there when you roll up here on Monday,” Silas countered. “Come on, man. You have been busting you ass for the last month. You have spent hardly any time at the house, and that’s not just because you are trying to avoid your hot roommate.” He threw a sly grin my way and I scowled.
“I’ve been working.” I tried to defend myself, but he wasn’t buying it. “I have less than three months to get his roll out completed. There are still so many things to do and I am just, well, trying to… you know. Work,” I finished lamely.
He raised an eyebrow at me. Yeah. Neither of us were buying that one, but he let it go.
“Come on. You and I are going out on the town. I have been here all this time and you haven’t shown me the bright lights of Sin City yet.”
“It’s really not my thing,” I protested. “I much prefer the quiet of the house.”
“Sure. The house you spend no time in.”
“The quiet of the office, then.” I tried again. “We could order in. Any restaurant in town will send food over here. I have an almost fully stocked bar over at the main building. And it’s completely empty right now.” I tried to entice him into staying, but I could see by the look on his face he was determined. I sighed. “Alright, Si. Where do you want to go?”
Silas clapped his hands together. “Hooah!” he shouted, giving the standard US Army cheer. “That’s what I’m talking about.” As he stood, I noticed for the first time that he’s dressed differently than he was when we left the house together in the morning.
“Si,” I questioned. “Did you go shopping?”
He smoothed his hands down the front of his perfectly pressed black button-down shirt. “As a matter of fact, I did. You’re not the only country boy who can rock some fine city threads. Now, get your ass down to the truck. We are hitting a club.”
Thirty minutes later we were seated at a booth in one of the hottest bars on the Strip. It was Friday night and it was packed. Not that there was really any such thing as a quiet night in Las Vegas, but the weekends seemed to bring out the party animals.
This place was a bit classier, the cover charge alone being enough to dissuade some of the rowdier party goers. I sat at the comfortable booth, my own dress shirt not as nice as the one Silas was wearing simply because I worked in it all day, but the glass of bourbon in my hand was quickly making it so that I didn’t care. I stared idly around the bar, taking in the crowd of beautiful people dressed in their best, rolling the glass of bourbon around on the table top. There was a woman standing at a high-top table near ours, her skin tight silver dress and her long dark hair making her look like she belonged on a red carpet and not by herself in a bar. She glanced our way once or twice, but the perpetual scowl on my face must have convinced her I wasn’t worth the trouble because she eventually moved on to another group of guys a few tables down from us. Silas watched her go, then shook his head at me.
“What?” I said, already knowing what he’s going to say.
“You are never gonna find yourself a lady if you keep looking like you’re mad at the world.”
“I am mad at the world,” I said petulantly.
“I know you are,” he replied thoughtfully. “And I love you, man. I really do. But you have got to get a grip on all that anger and shit.”
We were distracted from our conversation by a pair of young ladies who stopped at our table. The were obviously past tipsy and they clung to each other for support as they giggled at me.
“Oh, my god. Did he just say he loves you?” the first one asked me.
“Um, yeah, but-”
“Oh!” squealed the second, her face scrunching up as she looked at Silas. “That is so sweet.” She looked back to me. “Mr. Montgomery, you are the luckiest guy, like, ever.”
“Excuse me?” my eyebrows shot up. “Do I know you?”
“Yes,” the first girl said. “I mean, maybe. We work for you. In the call center and mail room.”
Recognition hit me as I realized these two were a part of the group that was giggling and staring in the lobby on the day Silas arrived.
“Right.” I said, trying to end this conversation and move these two on with their night. The last thing I needed was to be seen with inebriated employees. That was a law suit waiting to happen. “Of course. But, you see, we were just leaving, so…”
