CRAZY FOR THIS GIRL : A Second Chance Romance, page 39
“Yeah, if my dick is inside you by the end of the night.”
She scowls at me. “Cal, my God...”
“Mr. Harper, apparently, since we’re on professional terms again.”
“Fine.” Laynee clasps her hands together and lifts that bratty chin of hers. “Mr. Harper, would you agree to meet with me—”
“Yes,” I seize out before she changes her mind. “But under my conditions.”
“Alright.” She exhales as if this conversation is as exhausting as it is for me. “I’m listening.”
“My place, tonight. I’ll provide dinner and you promise to give me something in return.”
She rolls her eyes. “What, my vagina?”
“Your price.”
“Like buying my forgiveness?” She scowls at that and I begin counting again, making her wait the full ten seconds before responding again.
“Like buying your truth. We talk after your negotiations as Miss Reese and Mr Harper. Then afterward, we speak as Cal and Laynee. All bullshit of working together shoved aside. I don’t want to hear that you’re fucking boss during that conversation.”
“But I would be.”
“Not when we’re talking about us.”
“That breeches us not getting messy,” she counters with a cocked brow.
“It won’t be by the time I negotiate my own conditions.”
She pushes her cheek out with her tongue. “And if I don’t agree?”
I smirk confidently because she will. “Then it’s going to be a long two years of how it is right now if I don’t get you to break first.”
“Dinner at a restaurant.”
“My place.”
“That’s not—”
“Say professional, Miss Reese, and I’ll show you my definition by the way I’m feeling right now. Hint, it involves your legs spread on my desk.”
She quickly pushes off said piece of furniture as if I’m going to make her do it right now. “My place.”
“It’s a date.”
“It’s not a date.” Her eyes slit into a perfect warning of what she needs herself to believe. It might not start as a date, but it’ll be our version of one by the time I’m done.
“Eight work for you?”
“Nine,” she sasses back. “My boss is a dick and has me doing a bunch of shit.”
I shake my head with a smile. “I’ll be there, Miss Reese.”
I didn’t know it was possible for me to feel any more guilt than I already have when I step into Laynee’s apartment and see how janky it is. It doesn’t appear to be renovated, ever, and the furniture is all old and worn, sitting on chipped hardwood floors that are irreplaceable. The neighborhood she lives in isn’t the greatest, and I’m going to demand in one of my negotiations with her that she move out of this shithole before I do it for her.
Might set me back a few steps with getting her to fall back into what we used to be again, but it’s worth it to know she’s safe and sound, and living in something decent.
“Can I get you some bourbon?” Laynee asks me as she closes the scratched-up maroon door behind me. I don’t even think I want to ask if she knows what that’s from.
I’m also about to ask Laynee why she has bourbon, but decide against it and thank her for getting me a glass when she comes back with one.
“My roommate is out for the night, and she won’t be back until late, so we have the whole place to ourselves for privacy.”
I didn’t need to know that for it to make this harder. “Fantastic.”
“And I ordered us pizza.”
“Huh?”
She narrows her eyes. “What?”
“You’re offering your boss pizza for a negotiation?”
Yeah, okay, I’m being a dickhead, but she wants me to be serious about this shit when really, I wanted to delve in and force her to just blurt everything out already instead of doing this in a slow ass process.
Like normal people.
“I got it because you like it,” she sasses, turning her back on me and sitting at one side of the table. “Take a seat, Mr. Harper.”
I ogle her attempts to be professional, wearing a black dress that she would in the office with matching heels that I know are killing her feet and her hair perfectly styled in waves.
Taking my position across from her behind the table, Laynee hands me over a manila folder. “I made you a copy to read along with me.”
I don’t open it because this is fucking stupid.
“I prefer to listen,” I counter, crossing my arms along my navy-blue Armani suit. “Please go ahead.”
She nods and folds her hands over the small square table that would barely fit four people and food. “Well, I wanted to start by thanking you for agreeing to this meeting and giving me the opportunity to go over a few things.”
Like I had a choice.
She stops speaking, waiting for me to acknowledge her statement like the manual of decorum says to do when you’re doing such things, so I say, “You’re more than welcome, Miss Reese.”
I would never do this for anyone else, believe me.
“As you know, I graduated from business school, but of course, with a ton of debt. Jonah always wanted to go to law school, which he almost didn’t continue on with because our parents couldn’t afford to help, and he wasn’t making a lot of money. That’s when I started working at various odd and end jobs, then the Watering Hole, before landing this job with Elliott. With the money I’ve earned thus far, I’ve almost cleaned both of our slates.”
I stare at her, hating that she did it all by herself. Like I said before it’s Laynee to do that for Jonah, and that’s fine, but picturing her struggling by herself doesn’t sit well with me.
All because I stayed away.
All because I couldn’t get out of my head.
All because my fucking father started this.
“This will be hard,” she continues, and I see her blow a deep exhale through her lips because she’s done this before. “Because I work full time with you, but I want to go back to college.”
“That might be a little hard to manage, Miss Reese.”
She shakes her head against my realistic remark. “I can handle it. This is something I want.”
“Depends what you want. I’m still fuzzy on what that is.”
“I want to go into hospitality and hotel management.” I clench my teeth together because I swear after hours of thinking about it, I chalked it up as her fucking with me. “I want to learn the ins and outs.”
“To do what exactly, Miss Reese?”
“To manage my own place.”
I cock my head to the side in silent challenge for her to do exactly what she said she was going to do. “You’re telling me that you were serious about going into the hotel business to become my competitor?”
“No.” And I feel my held inhale seep from my lungs because she’s already given me one hell of a run to my sanity. “I want to start my own bed-and-breakfast.”
“Really?”
“Really. This is where the two-year contract comes in.”
And here goes my sanity.
“I’ll work with you for the rest of the two years.”
“You will?”
I’m not buying it. I’ve only watched her run from me since first laying eyes on me, and I’m paranoid.
I’m edgy because she’s everything that holds me together, and if I lose that, I’m losing everything. I can’t function without her around now that I have her again. My sleeping has gotten a little better, and the fact that I know I’m going to see her for the next day sets me slightly at ease.
Laynee nods. “Under one condition.”
“Of course.” I sigh and uncross my arms to lean over the table. “And what would that be?”
“I want to learn every department. I want to be in their meetings. I want to walk around with the housekeepers and sit at the front desk. I want to speak with guests and subtly pick their brains about what they liked and want more of.”
“You want to gain insight with my guests to profit your bed-and-breakfast?”
Laynee frowns. “It’s one bed-and-breakfast, Ca—Mr. Harper. I’m not running a Holiday Inn next to yours.”
“And what about you being my assistant? I still need that.”
“Well…” She fidgets in her chair. “I was hoping you’d give me some more leniency on where I do your work. Like I can pull your reports with the front desk. And I can answer emails while walking around with the housekeepers. I also was hoping you’d let me sit in on a few conferences with you and our vendors so I can study how you do business.”
“I’m waiting for the shit I’m going to hate,” I manage because I know we’re not done yet.
“I need to go part-time.”
“I need a full-time assistant.”
“I can be that.”
I glower at her. “How?”
“Your reports will be in your email before you get in. I can have your coffee like normal. All your dry cleaning picked up and emails responded to before I leave for school.”
“And what time is that?”
“Four.”
I set my jaw because she’s going to overwork and kill herself. “And when are you going to study?”
“On the weekends.”
“And homework?”
“In between.”
“Laynee…”
She lifts her brows. “Mr. Harper.”
I roll my head to stretch out the tautness of my neck. “Are you done?”
“I think so.”
I pick up her folder and toss it to her side of the table. “Your counteroffer is awful, Miss Reese, and half of it isn’t needed.”
Her face twists, looking down at manila atrocity that I’m sure she spent a lot of time on. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you don’t need to go to school to operate a bed-and-breakfast. I can teach you everything I know and you can sit in, like you said, to get other people’s perspectives.”
“You’d let me do that?”
“I’d let you do that at a price.” For once in Laynee’s life, she doesn’t speak. “If you want to take your own business seriously, you’ll need to do a lot of research. You’re also going to need someone to work with you on accounting. I know a few good people. You need a property, a list of things you’re going to need, and you’ll have to compare prices. You’re going to have to conduct meetings and phone calls on your own. Going to college is for people in-between shit. You’re beginning something with resources that I can give you.”
Laynee is silent for another moment before saying, “What’s the catch?”
“There isn’t one.”
“The two-year contract still stands with the same salary?”
“It does.”
She smiles, clearly proud of herself. “Okay…wow, that went great.”
“I do have one for the use of my company for your own personal gain though, Miss Reese.” She frowns then. “You’ll need to move out of this rat’s nest and find a better apartment.”
“I need to save money.” I open my mouth. “And don’t you dare say you’ll give me more.”
“You don’t think almost a million and a half dollars is enough for you to buy a property for your bed-and-breakfast as well as an apartment that’s not for convicted felons?”
She averts her gaze from me. “I want to save.”
“You need to sleep somewhere that’s not targeted for burglars and causing me not to sleep at night because I already don’t, and now, I know where you live.”
“I’m your assistant. Not your charity case. And why don’t you sleep?”
I ignore her question and keep it business. “I bet you a date that I can find you a better place for no more than three hundred dollars more than what you’re paying now.”
She scoffs. “Doubt it.”
“Try me.”
“Find me one, and we’ll see.”
“Then we’ll see about you sitting in meetings.”
Her nostrils expand, which makes her pretty pink lips pull out in a pout. “You have two weeks.”
“I only need one.”
She perks a brow and straightens her spine. “Is that all?”
“For now.” She narrows her eyes. “I haven’t signed anything yet. Until then, I could think of something else.”
“I’m not doing another meeting with you, Mr. Harper.”
“Well, as my employee, Miss Reese, I can make it mandatory. And per clause seven, section thirty-two, line twenty-three of your original contract, I can add on another year to the contract with three write-ups of defying my ass.”
Her eyes bulge. “What?”
“Didn’t you read the fine print?”
“You’re fucking joking.”
I smile. “Never with you.” Picking up my glass of liquor, I take a generous sip and notice the cheapness of it immediately. “Are we done with this business meeting?”
“For now...Mr. Harper.” Her crystal blues begin the process of boring daggers into my head. “For now.”
“Wonderful.” I pull my suit jacket off and hang it over the back of my chair, feeling Laynee’s blues still burning holes at me. “How’s it going, Laynee?”
“I hate my boss,” she grumbles out, picking at the edge of her copy of the contract she drafted up.
“Real douchebag, huh?” She only continues to stare at me. “Maybe you should suck his dick, that normally gets guys to keel over and start acting civil.”
“I might bite it off.”
“He might like teeth.” I wink at her, and she gapes at me for a split second before correcting herself. “Should we start?”
“Start?”
“With your truths and my bullshit.”
“Lord…” She begins rubbing at her temples. “Why do I do this with you?”
“Because I think you love me, Laynee.”
“I despise you, Cal,” she moans, careful not to meet my unyielding stare. Because if she does, she’s fucked. “You’ve been driving me insane for years upon end.”
“You want me to start?”
She waves a hand in the air. “Knock yourself out…literally.”
I ease down the smirk that wants to present itself and get down to the serious shit. “Were you going to get married to that asshole your mom talked about?” I hear her sigh, readying herself for a long conversation that’s going to be hard but needed.
“Unfortunately, if he would’ve asked…depends.”
“On?”
“If a song came on that reminded me of you that day.” She pulls her fingers up to rub at one of her temples and then heaves her blues to mine. “You ruined a lot of days for me.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
I mean that, but I don’t.
I wanted Laynee happy, but I wanted it to be with me.
“Well, you did.”
“I thought of you every day,” I confess evenly. “Almost every second. It was borderline unhealthy how much.”
Her features soften, and I watch her shoulder slump into a comfortable position. “How long were you there?”
“Almost four years.” I can feel my muscles begin to bunch at the change of conversation. The reality of what’s made me up and the dark realness of what’s lived in my head.
“And…when you got home?”
“My dad was already dead to my utter disappointment…” I hold on to Laynee’s blue eyes because I can feel a surge of anger sprint to the forefront of my mind. “Because not only did I think of seeing you again, but wrapping my hands around his throat.”
She gives me a weak grin and I love that she understands me. That it doesn’t bother her that my first thought was to choose violence than a civil conversation. “Eh, kept you out of prison. How did he die?”
“Massive heart attack, so too easy.”
“Did they tell he died when you were...overseas?”
“Yep. Didn’t want to come home and fake feeling sorry that he had.”
“Does that bother you?”
I shake my head. “No. He ruined my whole life. When I got back, I grabbed my shit from the house while Mom acted like she didn’t rat me out to him, and I haven’t seen her since. I paid off her debt that she racked up, sent her an email to fuck off, and that was it. I rented out a small studio apartment and just mindlessly wasted away there. I couldn’t go outside, every time…it was like I was back in Iraq. Every sound set me on edge, a car backfiring or someone unlocking their door to their cars. I’ve seen my brothers and sisters killed. I’ve been under gunfire more times than I care to count. I’ve seen children and mothers bloody and…” I take a deep breath, feeling my anxiety reach a high that I have a hard time containing. “I’ve seen one of my friend’s brains blown out by a sniper. Right next to me. It could’ve been me…”
“Cal…please, we don’t have to talk about this,” Laynee soothes quietly. “Unless you need to...I’m here for you always, but—”
“I wish you were there, but you couldn’t be. I didn’t want you to see me like that. I couldn’t bare the thought of you realizing that I was so fucked up, I couldn’t pull myself out of my own head. I was like a scared little dog, Laynee. I had my dad’s inheritance, and I lived on delivery orders and thoughts of suicide.”
“No,” Laynee whispers. “You—”
“I was suicidal, baby.” I meet her blues and hold them because with her in my sights, I can move forward. The words are tight in my throat, but I forge on because that’s what I was trained to do. It’s what I’d always do for her. “I had a 9mm...and before I even thought of pulling that trigger, I needed to talk to you one more time. I needed you, but I couldn’t have you. I fucked up. I knew you hated me. I came back for God knows what reason alive just to live in Hell again because you weren’t mine, and I stayed away from you so that you didn’t have to deal with me.”
“I would always deal with you, Cal,” Laynee quakes, sadness draped over her gorgeous face. I can see the pity in her eyes and the helplessness that comes right along with it. I don’t want any of it, I just desire her to understand that, despite everything, I never stopped loving and caring about her.
“I’m fully aware that you’re pissed at me, but maybe it’s because I couldn’t deal with you looking at me how you are right now. A broken man who can’t get out of his own head. Who wakes up in cold sweats and was so weak that I craved to end it all.”
