Tapping The Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires #1)(98)

After drowning my hate and irritation in three beers and a plate of nachos at the bar up the street from my apartment, my headhunter called with a job offer. The New York Mavericks wanted to hire me and presented their offer with a generous salary and investment plan. I was shocked by their quick trigger. My experiences with getting a response from corporations was never this prompt. But maybe football franchises are different? Who knows?

I didn’t waste time trying figure it out.

Immediately, I accepted the position. Even though football, or any sport for that matter, wasn’t my forte, I was excited about the challenge, and honestly, I couldn’t afford to sit around for months without a paycheck. Student loans and rent did not accept IOUs.

That night, I slid into bed and checked my phone one last time.

Still no response from Kline.

I clutched my aching stomach and forced my racing mind to sleep.

God, I missed him so much I felt physically ill from it.




Later that week, Cassie surprised me by coming home a few days early from her shoot in San Francisco. This was why she’d always be one of the most important people in my life. I needed her, desperately, and she didn’t hesitate to rearrange her schedule to be my shoulder to lean on.

We ordered Chinese, gorged ourselves on chicken fried rice and crab rangoon, and lounged on the couch for a Friday Night Lights marathon on Netflix.

If anyone could brighten my mood, it was Tim Riggins, right?

Wrong.

I only got a few episodes deep before I was on the verge of losing it. The second I saw Lyla Garrity smile against Tim Riggins’ mouth mid-kiss, the emotional dam was ready to burst.

“Are you okay?” Cass asked as I strode into the bathroom.

All I could do was shake my head. Because I was very far from okay. Probably the furthest I’d ever been from okay.

I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror, my legs trembling and hands gripping the sink like it would somehow give me the strength to fight my pitiful emotions.

Don’t cry. He does not deserve your tears.

When that didn’t work, I attempted to distract myself by peeing. But I quickly found it didn’t serve as any type of distraction, because after about fifteen seconds, I was just peeing and crying at the same time. If you’d ever found yourself in that horribly tragic set of circumstances, you’d have understood it was the worst feeling ever. Not only could you not stop peeing, but you couldn’t hold back the sobs. Pathetic was the only true way to describe it.

Cass found me in the bathroom that way—pants around my ankles and tears streaming down my cheeks.

“What can I do?” Her face was etched with concern.

“Nothing,” I cried, shoving a clump of toilet paper against my nose. My elbows went to my bare knees—yes, I was still on the toilet—and my head was in my hands.

“Have you talked to him since?” She rested her hip against the doorframe.

“Nope. It’s been a week and he hasn’t tried to contact me. Hasn’t called. Texted. Fucking tapped out Morse code. No skywriter or carrier pigeon. Nada. Zip. Zilch.” I stared up at her, my chin resting in my hands. “He even knows I was out looking for a new job. How do I know this? Because when the headhunter called with the offer, he also mentioned my prior place of employment provided an amazing recommendation.”

“But—” she started to interrupt, but I kept going.

“So, basically, Kline Brooks doesn’t give a shit. He saw my letter of resignation. He saw the screenshot with the note I left him. And guess what? He never attempted to contact me. Plus, he was more than happy to give my future job prospect a glowing recommendation. Am I going crazy, Cass? I mean, was I completely deranged and thought Kline and I were way more than what we actually were?”

“No, sweetie,” she responded. “I saw you two together and it was more than obvious he adored you.”

“Then why did he want to meet up with you? Why did he want to meet up with my best friend?” I stifled a sob, pressing more toilet paper against my eyes. “Obviously, this is nothing against you, Cass,” I muttered.

“I know, Georgie. And seriously, you don’t have to apologize to me. This entire situation is f*cked up, that’s for damn sure.”

I nodded, blowing my nose.

“How about you get off the toilet and maybe we can find something else to watch? It’s safe to say Tim and Lyla are little too much for you at the moment.”

“Okay,” I agreed through a hiccupping breath.

“I’ll give you a minute to get yourself together,” she called over her shoulder, moving into the hallway.

I stood by the sink, washing my hands and face. I would not spend another night bawling my eyes out. It was just getting pathetic at that point. Obviously, what I’d thought Kline and I were, and what he’d thought we were, were two very different things.

The voice in my head tried to remind me of the way his blue eyes had looked the night he told me he loved me—tender, vulnerable, his heart resting in their depths.

I told that voice to f*ck off. He wouldn’t be the first man or woman in the world to profess love to someone they didn’t really care about. Believe me, I had seen the threads on Reddit.

People did some horrible shit to one another. Relationships, that were otherwise amazing, could end on the worst of notes. That was not how I had pictured things happening with Kline and me, but that was life, right? Sometimes things didn’t go as you planned or hoped they would. Sometimes bad things happened to good people.