Page 118 of Crazy for this Girl

Cal Harper sits behind that desk with a dark grey, three-piece suit and his hair impeccably styled. His green eyes sail over the screen of his laptop and land on me, and when they do, his face screws up slightly before a heavy scowl forms off his lips.

You’ve got to be kidding me. God, why? What in the hell did I do?

It was that kiss.

It was that kiss I agreed to participate in to get rid of Hailee all those years ago. It has to be. It’s that karma I said I didn’t want.

“Laynee, this is Cal Harper,” Elliott introduces, extending an arm to the man whose moss greens are still deadlocked on me. “He’s actually my cousin. Cal, this is Miss Laynee Reese. She’s been with the company for about, what, four months?” He looks at me for confirmation, but I don’t give it to him. Screw how long I’ve been here, I need out.

Like right now.

“Anyway, I emailed you her contract with me for you to review, and if there are any revisions you’d like to make, then the both of you can go over that. However, that contract stands for two full years. If she doesn’t agree, you’re shit out of luck.”

“I’ll take a look at it,” he grounds out. “You can leave.” I begin to pivot, but his stable and tight tone hits me upside the head with his next command. “You can stay, Miss Reese. Sounds like you and I have some terms to go over.”

Turning my face away to look at the navy-blue paint of the wall, I can’t look at either of them right now.

Cousins, that makes sense.

They’re both idiots.

“I’ve moved to the floor below,” Elliott says at my side as if I truly give a crap about his new location. “Feel free to—”

“If she needs you to hold her hand, Elliott,” Cal chides. “Then she’s not as good as you say.” I clench my teeth at Cal’s unwanted commentary. “I’m not going to spoon-feed her.”

“Come down if you need anything,” his cousin continues as if Cal never said a word. “We’ll still have to go over those reports later.”

“We can all do that,” Cal insists, still shoving himself into a conversation that truly doesn’t need him in it. “I’m sure you can get me up to speed, can’t you, Miss Reese?”

Elliott’s hand finds my back, and I inwardly cringe at the comforting contact.

I don’t want to be touched.

I want to scream.

I want to tell him how much of an asshole he is because he literally knows how Cal is.

They’re fucking cousins!

A moment later, the heavy door to Cal’s new office softly clicks shut while all the air in the room intensifies, clogging my windpipe.

I think I actually begin to pant a little bit. Sweat begins to form at the back of my neck, and I need a window cracked.

On the seventeenth floor.

So, if Cal makes one more smartass comment, I can test my theory to see if pigs fly. If he’ll bounce with the amount of ego that protrudes from him because I do not know this man.

“Please take a seat, Miss Reese. My time’s limited today.” I suck back on a shitty comeback that we can pick this crap up later, on another day that’s close to the timeline of never, but refrain.

Taking a seat like the good little employee I am, I clasp my hands tightly together and impatiently wait for his next layer of business.

“I’m sure I’ll need to add some things to your contract—”

“Like what?” I counter out. “It’s a standard NDA with comments on the job description, and—”

“You must really have an issue with giving me two seconds to speak, Miss Reese,” he clips. “How about you count to five before speaking again?”

I clench down on my teeth.

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