Crushing on my Billionaire Best Friend - Jolie Day Page 0,5

out or something?

“Yes. It’s Laney.” I didn’t hide the impatience in my tone. “Didn’t you look at the caller ID? Anyway, listen carefully because this is really important.”

“Princess Bubbles? Ohh…okay?” There was a strange grunting noise in between his words.

I groaned and rolled my eyes, pressing my palm flat to the part of my head that hurt the most. Everything in my skull was pounding in one way or another. Leave it to a man to barely listen to you even when you specifically say, “listen carefully.”

“My apartment. It’s gone. There was a fire, and…well, everything I own is gone, aside from what I’m wearing right now and whatever random odds and ends are in my purse. Which might be a lot, actually.” I shook my head, trying to focus on what was most important. “Anyway, can I come over? I need a place to crash. Just for tonight.”

“Oh, my God,” he panted away from the phone. He must have been just as shocked as I was.

“I know! It’s crazy, right? I’m just so glad I wasn’t home when it happened.”

“What? Laney? Sorry… Can I call you back?”

“Huh? Haven’t you been listening to me at all? Oliver! Okay, again. Can. I. Please. Stay. At. Your. Place. Tonight. Please?” I repeated slowly, making a point to emphasize each word more carefully this time. Whatever part of space his head was floating in at that moment was obviously a place where the workout gods only had ears for weights and “give me more.” Men and their tools—or weightlifting in this scenario.

He let out an even louder grunt, and for the first time, I realized I didn’t think I wanted to know what he was doing. “My place? Oh, yeah. Oh, fuck…yeah. You know you’re always welcome…any…time, Laney.”

“Oh. Uh…okay. Great. I didn’t expect you to be so…enthusiastic about it? Thank you, Oliver. You’re a lifesaver. I’m leaving the lab now, so I’ll be there in about twenty minutes or so. See you soon.”

“Yup. See you later, La—”

The call dropped before he even finished saying my name.

Okay, so…Oliver was obviously drunk, and not working out. Whatever. Not the ideal thing to be around right now. But that was okay. Beggars can’t be choosers. And on second thought…maybe it was exactly what I needed to be around right now. Maybe I need to be drunk.

I certainly wouldn’t be able to concentrate on work tonight. A nice glass of red wine was just what I needed. I bolted up from the chair, sending it rolling backward into the desk behind me. Quickly, I slipped out of my white lab coat before rushing over to the hooks near the exit, where my enormous bag and jacket were hanging. For once, I was glad I carried such a big purse, often throwing in apples, books, bottles of water, tissues, Chapstick, and who knew what else. It always seemed like such a bad habit before, but now that bag carried the entirety of what was left of my belongings.

I flashed my badge across all the security keycard access panels that opened the ridiculous number of doors between me and the main lobby. Before I stepped foot outside, though, I made a mad dash to the ladies’ room to check my hair and makeup. I’d been working all day, so what had been a cute up-do was now a mess. I took it down and shook out my long, brown hair, finger-combing it and my curls as best I could. It didn’t look half bad (kind of like that sexy, wind-blown look). I dug through my bag and found my cherry-stained lip gloss. Perfect! Swiping it across my lips, and then blotting with a tissue, I smiled in the mirror. I was missing something. Yes! I needed a fresh application of kohl and mascara to make my green eyes pop. Posing in the mirror and analyzing my reflection one final time, I pushed up the girls for good measure (because Oliver!) and straightened my slacks.

I was ready.

Soon enough (after I’d properly primped), I found myself out on the street corner in front of the Linzar headquarters, which were mostly empty that time of night. I was glad I didn’t have to make small talk with anybody on my way out. Dropping the bomb of “my apartment just burned with everything I own inside” wasn’t exactly the most pleasant evening conversation.

Once I was safely settled into the warm (slightly smelly), comfort of the backseat of a taxi, I gave Oliver’s address