The Billionaire Next Door (Billionaire Bad Boys #2)(78)

Here went nothing…

*



After the interview, Rachel treated herself to a Starbucks coffee with about a thousand calories, went window-shopping for clothes she hoped to someday afford, and finally headed to Crane Tower on foot.

She only hoped Tag was serious about dinner tonight. He hadn’t called or texted, and neither did she. She’d rather show up unannounced. Maybe because part of her worried he might cancel, and all of her knew if he did, she’d deserve it.

Inside the apartment building, it so happened a friendly older guy walking a very big black-and-white splotched dog was headed her way.

Adonis let out a happy-sounding woof! They approached, Oliver wrapping his free arm around her in a quick hug.

“I’ve missed you,” she said, meaning it. “You used to come in every week, and I haven’t seen you lately.”

Oliver sighed. “Lots of work, and I’m dieting.” He patted his slightly round stomach.

“Well, take a cheat day. I’d like to buy you dinner before I leave the Andromeda.”

“Leaving?” His eyebrows went up.

“Eventually. I’m job hunting. I suspect something will come along sooner than later.” Tentatively she added, “I interviewed for a job at Crane headquarters today.”

In her gut she felt the interview with Reese had gone well, but the man had an intimidating air about him that didn’t give her many warm fuzzies. Tag was intimidating in his own way—but more because charm oozed out around him like an oil spill. Reese wasn’t like that. He was severe, serious, and incredibly sharp.

Rachel hadn’t gone in on her best foot after Tag had surprised her, but she’d compartmentalized her feelings and called forth her professionalism. She’d half wondered if Reese would bring up Tag, and he did. First he’d mentioned that Lonnie, the manager who’d interviewed her prior, had highly recommended her for the position. Then he’d said, “He felt it’d be best if I interview you since you and Tag are involved.”

Reese had said it without inflection and, she hoped, without judgment.

“I didn’t want special treatment,” she’d told Reese, “so I didn’t tell him I applied. The truth is I consider working for Crane Hotels a great opportunity. A company I can stand behind.”

Reese had nodded, his expression giving nothing away.

“How’d the interview go?” Oliver asked now.

“Well. I think. Maybe.”

“The Cranes are royalty in Chicago. Good luck to you,” Oliver said as she bent to pet Adonis. The dog’s entire backside was wiggling, his tail slashing the air. “He misses you.”

Adonis chimed the affirmative with a whine. Rachel told the giant dog she’d missed him too.

“So nice to run into you.” She patted Adonis again. “I owe you dinner. Come see me.”

They said their goodbyes and she chewed her lip on the ride up to Tag’s penthouse. At his door she rapped lightly, hearing Tag’s muffled voice on the other side. “I’ll tell her. Gotta go.”

He opened the door, dressed the same as he’d been earlier today, wearing that same unreadable expression. “Hey, Dimples.”

“Tag. Hi.” She walked inside, her nerves rattling from the caffeine, or maybe because she’d really stepped in it today. “Listen—”

“Guess who I was talking to?” he interrupted.

“Tag.”

“Rachel.” He gave her a headshake as if to say Let it go. “Guess.”

She lifted a hand and dropped it. “I don’t know, Mick Jagger?”

The smile that crept onto his face was so genuine, her heart did a flip.

“The CEO of Crane Hotels,” he said. “Also known as my big bad brother.”

“Did he…tell you anything?”

“Yep.” Tag folded his arms and backed up a few feet so he could rest a hip on the surface of his clutter-free desk.

She hovered at the threshold of his door, fingers wound together around her purse strap. “Are you going to tell me what he said?”

“Maybe. But you have to come in first.”

“I suppose I earned this torture,” she said, stepping inside and shutting the door.

“Hey, I meant to ask, how’d the interview go?”

She gave up and let her purse slide off her shoulder before dropping it at her feet. “Are you really going to let me off the hook this easily?”

“I thought I was torturing you.”

“You should.”

Tag fisted her coat in both hands, yanked her firmly against his body, and lowered his head. There between his legs, her hands resting on his thick thighs, she was turned inside out by one of his signature tongue-lashings.

By the time she’d slanted her head to the right, he’d managed to remove her coat and she had one hand on his beard, her fingertips pushing into his hair.

He pulled away and she followed, stretching closer to him like a sunflower to the sun.

“Congratulations,” he whispered against her lips.

Blinking up at him, she had to recalibrate her thoughts and remind her knees how to hold her up.

“You mean…”

His lips parted into a slow smile. “You got it, Dimples. Reese loved you.”