Page 135 of Crazy for this Girl

“It definitely was,” Tanner agrees like the little brown nose he is. “I’ve never been to Detroit, only flown over it.”

“Like you were supposed to today?” I leer, not giving a shit if my voice sounds irritated because it is, and he was never supposed to get off the damn plane.

He ignores me, placing an elbow on the table and sending more of his undivided attention to the gorgeous blonde at our table. “Would you mind showing me around?”

Laynee’s face lifts. “Oh…I’m not from around here. I just visited once.”

He shrugs. “Then we’ll go together; scope out the town. Maybe get into some trouble.” He looks to me, leaving it up to me to be a possessive asshole and stake my claim, or allow her to have some fun while we’re here. “You don’t mind, do you? I’m sure you have plenty of work that you want to catch up on. I’m surprised you even stopped for dinner at all.”

My jaw tenses, but I keep my tone collected and cool this time. “Laynee was my guest for this trip as well as my assistant. I wasn’t going to spend it in my hotel room.”

“Well, then I guess you didn’t need me.”

No shit, motherfucker. I told you to take the plane to New York, like you were supposed to.

“What do you say, Miss Reese?” Tanner solicits, still using that quirk of his lips to coax her into going out with him. “I won’t keep you out too long.”

“Sure,” she says, darting her eyes to me. “Did you want to come, Mr. Harper? Maybe we could find something else to eat at a food truck or something.”

And be a third wheel? Nah.

“Tanner’s right for once, I do have some things to handle.” I wave down the waitress and look at Laynee again. “I’ll bring the other entrees to your room for when you come back. Go ahead and take off.”

Her expression falls, and, for once in my life, I like seeing it. Is she upset that I’m not tagging along because she can’t spend time with me or because I won’t continue on with what we came here to do in the first place?

“Are you sure?” she presses. “Did you need me to help—”

“All under control.” I gesture for her to go before my rational brain takes off and tells Tanner to go fuck the entire way to the big apple. “Have a good time.” She looks slightly disappointed again or maybe it’s my cruel imagination that I would want her to be.

Laynee gives me a curt nod and rises from her chair while my cousin helps her out.

With one last smile, she takes off with a guy that almost used to be me back in the day.

Not the suit that’s waiting for the bill at a restaurant I could give a shit about. I have no problem eating a whole large pizza and scarfing down burgers.

The expensive shit just comes with the territory.

Laynee Reese, though, does not.

There’s a knock on my door while I’m neck-deep in emails and researching new ways to improve the Grand Regency brand in Chicago and incorporating new branding to the area that would interest trends.

Swinging my legs from under my laptop, I slide off my bed and look through the peephole to find Laynee standing on the other side.

“Figured you could use a break,” she says when I open the door with five carryout bags I had taken to her room. I may have gone overboard with ordering her everything she hadn’t eaten at the restaurant tonight, but she went intolerably over the top in that red dress that currently still hugs her hips and breasts.

I examine her closely as she strides past me and makes her way over to the small table in the far corner of the room.

Nothing looks out of place or carefully put back together.

Which means Tanner could possibly live another day. And he’s definitely going to be stationed in the New York location because he can’t keep his eyes or intentions to himself with her in his sights. I already have Elliott sniffing around to piss on her, clearly forgetting about Victoria or Vivian—whatever the hell her name is—when Laynee is so perfectly within my grasp to lay out on my desk and take for myself.

Because I have that right over any of them.

Because she was mine first.

There aren’t going to be any weird Christmases where one of my family members comes with her on their arm. No talks about how good she feels or what they’re going to buy her for special occasions. There’s also not going to be any talks whatsoever about fucking her.

“Inbox crazy?” she asks, setting out two bottles of Coke that she must’ve bought from the vending machine down the hall.

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