Not Quite Dating (Not Quite #1)(2)
Author: Catherine Bybee

He stopped her by holding on to her wrist.

“I didn’t ask for a break. I said we were over. We don’t want the same things.” He didn’t want a trophy wife, and that was all Heather could offer.

The edges of her lips fell into a pout. “We know the same people, play in the same circles. We’re perfect for each other.”

“No, we’re not. I want someone to be with me for more than my wallet. We both know that woman isn’t you.” Jack noticed the diamond-studded bracelet hanging off her wrist. They had been dating during her last birthday and Jack had given it to her. He regretted the gift now.

Heather’s fake pout faded and a spark of anger flashed in her eyes. “Every woman with you is going to be there for the money, Jack. I just happened to be honest about it.”

Her words stung, probably because they held some truth. It was hard to look past his father’s billions and Jack’s own millions. Still, the blonde in front of him had just made it clear she didn’t care about him at all. Jack drew the line there.

He waved to the senior valet, who quickly ran over.

“Yes, Mr. Morrison?”

“Can you bring my car around?”

The valet glanced at Heather, then back at Jack. “A hotel car, sir?”

“No, my car. The one I arrived in.”

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”

Heather smiled up at him, probably assuming she’d won something.

“Is there somewhere I can have my driver take you?” Jack asked. “Or are you staying here?”

“I have a suite at the Bellagio. But I don’t mind a move.” Another sickening smile lifted her lips.

Jack’s friends made their way out of the casino through the heavy glass doors.

“The Bellagio is perfect for you. I suggest you enjoy your time there.”

Her facade fell and anger straightened her jaw. “You’ll regret this someday, Jack. You’re going to marry some woman thinking she loves you and in the end be brokenhearted because she wants your trust fund.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his ride pull up. He walked to his twin cab, a well-past-its-prime pickup, dirty from the long drive, and opened the door.

“What is that?” she barked and stepped away as if the truck was a snake about to strike.

Finally, a real smile lifted Jack’s lips. The look of absolute horror on Heather’s face was worth her annoying presence. “It’s your ride to the Bellagio.”

“I’m not getting in that thing. What did you do, drive it from Texas?”

Actually, he’d had it shipped to California for his latest business venture, and that’s when he and the boys had decided to drive it to Vegas. “Something like that. C’mon, get in.”

“I will do no such thing.”

“Suit yourself.” Jack opened the door wide and waved his friends in. “C’mon, boys. We have a bachelor to send off.” Jack turned to the kid who had jockeyed the truck around. “What’s your name, buddy?”

“Russell, sir. I’m new here.” The kid was maybe twenty-four.

“You know your way around Vegas, right?”

“Lived here all my life.”

Jack patted him on the back while Mike helped Dean into the backseat. Tom loaded in behind them. “Well, Russell, my friends and I need a driver tonight. We have some serious drinking to do and could use someone sober with us. You game?”

“I’m working.”

“And I’m paying you.” Jack waved the head valet over. “It’s Carrington, right?” he asked the senior valet.

“Yes, sir.”

“Carrington, Russell is going to help us out for a few hours. I hope that’s OK.”

“Of course, Mr. Morrison. Whatever you want.”

Jack winked at the man and turned toward the truck. When he lifted his foot into the cab, Heather called out.

“What about me?”

Jack spared her a glance. “I offered you my ride, darlin’. Maybe a Vegas cabbie would suit you better. Carrington, would you mind finding Miss Heather a ride?”

Carrington shifted his eyes from Heather to Jack a few times and then lifted his hand for one of the many cabs waiting in line to take guests to their next destination.

Heather lifted her arms over her shoulders. “Jack!” she yelled as he shut the door.

He tilted his hat as a good-bye while Russell shifted the truck in gear.

“Jack Morrison!” Jack could still hear her screaming as they pulled away.

“Ho boy, that is one ticked-off woman,” Tom said, looking over his shoulder. “I don’t know what you ever saw in her.”

“She was a mistake.” A huge one. Jack was thankful his heart never got involved.

“Jack Morrison. Hey, you wouldn’t happen to be related to Gaylord Morrison, the owner of the hotel, would you?” Russell asked as he pulled out onto the strip.

Dean, Mike, and Tom started laughing.

“Did I say something funny?”

Jack buckled his belt and sat back. “That would be my dad.”

“Overdue…overdue…oh great, a shut-off notice.” Jessica Mann placed the highlighted water bill on the top of her pile with a grunt. Looking around the tiny break room of the twenty-four-hour diner she worked in proved just as bleak a view as her future. She really did need to make some changes in her life, and soon.

Leanne, the other graveyard shift waitress who worked with her, poked her head through the door and said, “You’re up. A party of four just sat on twelve.”

Jessie glanced at her watch and saw that it was twenty minutes past two in the morning. The after-bar crowd would soon start strolling in for black coffee and a place to sober up before their trek back home. Like clockwork, Sunday mornings were the worst. The truly stupid actually thought they could grab a cup of joe and still manage to make it to work on time. After tucking her bills into her purse, Jessie stepped out of the break room, through the short hall separating the kitchens from the service counter, and proceeded to table twelve. With any luck, one of the four people in the party would be sober enough to remember to tip her before they left.

Hearty male laughter met her ears before she rounded the corner to greet her customers.

Two faces peeked over open menus while the other two caught her gaze as she approached.

“Whew, hey, darlin’. Are you our waitress tonight?” a dishwater blond sitting on the end of the booth asked. With his question, the other men at the table lowered their menus to look at her.