The Billionaire Next Door (Billionaire Bad Boys #2)(76)

Meeting over, workday hoopla handled, he invited Reese to racquetball. Twenty minutes later, he and his brother were sweating from pounding a blue ball into the wall at the Crane’s gym downstairs from Reese’s office. Tag swiped at nothing but air, giving Reese the winning point on the tie-breaking game.

“Shit!” Tag said, his voice echoing off the empty room.

“Them’s the breaks.” Reese, breathing heavily, rested his hands on his hips.

“Smugness suits you,” Tag panted, putting away the racquets and the ball. Water bottles in hand, they walked to the locker room.

“By the way, I was surprised you reconsidered,” Reese said.

“Reconsidered what? Challenging you to racquetball?”

“Not what I meant, but that would be a wise move.” Reese shot a stream of water into his mouth from his bottle.

“What is up with the sudden insurgence of mad skills?” Tag asked, snagging a towel. “Have you been practicing?”

“I’ll never tell.”

Cheating bastard. He’d been practicing.

“I meant I was surprised you reconsidered the hiring Rachel thing.”

Tag freed the band tying back his hair. “What are you talking about?”

“Headquarters. The marketing position?” His brother’s brows lifted, then lowered over his nose. “I thought you pushed that through. She applied a week ago, and today I received a call to conduct a second interview.”

“You only do that for upper management.”

“And for my brother’s girlfriends.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

Reese laughed, a hearty, real, and rare belly laugh. “I remember you saying something similar when you were thirteen and a neighbor girl was following you everywhere. You haven’t changed much.”

Tag scowled, the accusation not sitting well with him at all.

“It’s Mom’s fault,” Reese said quietly. So quietly, Tag wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly.

“What is?”

Reese pulled in a deep breath before he continued, and Tag swore the air pressure in the room increased. “She died. She left us. No warning, no premonition. One day she was there, and then we never saw her again.”

Tag’s chest felt like an elephant was using him as a recliner. His ribs crushed as his breathing went shallow. The casket had been closed at Mom’s funeral, so when Reese said they had never seen her again, he wasn’t exaggerating.

“I can’t remember the last thing we did together,” Tag said, heavy from sadness. “I have memories, but that day in particular. Nothing. Vaguely, I remember my teacher pulling me out of class. That’s it.”

“Tag, you were eleven.” Reese’s hand hit Tag’s shoulder and squeezed. “You didn’t know what the hell to do with that news. None of us did.”

A pair of guys squeaked by on their way to the court and Tag and Reese stepped aside to let them pass. It was the interruption they both needed to get out of the mire of memories of Luna Crane. Losing her was one of those life experiences that would forever be unresolved.

“My point is,” Reese said after the locker room was empty again, “Mom left behind three boys who grew into men allergic to commitment. We learned at a young age that loss happened”—he snapped his fingers, the sharp sound making Tag flinch—“like that.”

“Does Merina have you in therapy or something?” Tag asked.

“She should.” Reese raised an eyebrow self-deprecatingly and the air lightened. Tag felt like he could breathe again.

“Your nervousness over having Rachel close is not that unusual.”

“I’m not nervous,” Tag bit out. He was tired of everyone examining his feelings for him. “I didn’t know she applied at Crane HQ, that’s it. The news surprised me.”

Reese nodded, his mouth flat. Then he said, “I can cancel the interview if you like. Or turn her down.”

“Is she right for the position?”

“Lonnie loves her. He couldn’t say enough about how well she’d interviewed and how well he thought she’d fit in to the department.”

“Then don’t cancel the interview.”

“Okay.” Reese gave him a curt nod and headed for the showers.

Tag sat on a nearby bench and dropped his head back on a locker. He didn’t mind if Rachel worked for Crane. What he minded was that she didn’t tell him. Hell, he’d brought up the topic of her job hunt while they were lying in bed the other night, bare-assed naked and looking right into each other’s eyes.

Why hadn’t she told him?

He was beginning to think he wasn’t the only commitment-phobe around.

*



Rachel was grinning to herself at work. So she thought. Bree caught her.

“You look happy.”

“I’m pretty thrilled about the apartment.”

She’d found the perfect apartment this morning. After a few days of fruitless searches online and in person, she was about to beg Bree and Dean to take her with them to their new house. Then she’d found the place. With her first Crane interview having gone so well, she only had to get through the second one, and she was home free.

“There is something I didn’t tell you about yet,” Rachel said, sidling over to Bree behind the bar. There were a few beer drinkers sitting there, but the Andromeda was otherwise slow. “I interviewed at Crane Hotels for a marketing position.”