THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,13

people have this kind of money and I stay away from them. They are the ultimate assholes that don’t care about anything except number one. I shudder. Maybe Maverick isn’t even worth a one-night stand if he’s pushing this in my face on purpose.

He lays his hand on top of mine. “I wanted to see you, Windsor.” He says my name and my stomach drops. He might as well have ripped off my clothing, for the reaction it causes in my body. I suck in a determined breath. Be professional, God dammit.

“I need to know exactly what you want me to do with this money. We could diversify some of it. Use the bulk of it in a more aggressive nature. You are younger. What rates were you getting before? Do you have any ideas or expectations?” I ask, trying to keep my voice from going all freaking raspy with desire. This might be impossible.

“I have high expectations, Windsor,” he says. I want to scream at him to be straight with me. Snatching my hand out of his, I get up and walk to the window overlooking the parking lot of Food Lion. Women juggling kids and groceries distract me.

“Color me stupid. Could you spell it out for me?” I ask without turning around to face him. It’s a little better when I don’t have to look at him, or know he’s in touching distance. I cross my ankles to try to fight the fire between my legs.

“I did my research. I know that you aren’t only a CPA. You are also very good at making money for people. I’ll up the percentage you make on profits if you go out with me. One date,” he says, his voice growing closer as he approaches. I turn around wide-eyed and supremely pissed off.

“Are you seriously trying to buy me? I’m not a prostitute for God’s sake!” I scream, and then slam a hand over my mouth, praying Garrett didn’t hear my outburst.

Maverick laughs. He has the fucking audacity to laugh at me. He shakes his head.

I interrupt him. “Even though I’ll probably get fired for doing this, I’m going to have to say no thank you. You should take your copious amounts of money elsewhere to be managed.” My blood is boiling. I can’t believe he thought buying me out would be the only way to get a date with me. Walking around him, careful not to brush his arm as I pass, I sit down at my desk. “Did you even think to just ask me out?”

He has the good sense to look mortified. He bites a corner of his lip and blows out a breath. “It didn’t cross my mind. I thought it would be much harder than simply asking. You didn’t want to give me the time of day Saturday night.” He cocks his head to one side. “I figured if I sweetened the deal a little, maybe you’d be more receptive to my advances.” Hands in his pockets, he approaches quietly, stealthily. I shuffle his papers on my desk, feeling ill. Ill that I have to send his accounts away and sick because I can’t sleep with him. Not after this show of stupidity. Even my libido has IQ standards.

“You know what they say about assuming, I assume? It makes an ass out of you and me. Plus, it would be a conflict of interest if I handled both your money and your…” I trail off, and let him assume whatever he wants. He’s good with that.

Now he looks really pissed off. Dragging a hand through his longish brown hair, he continues his head shaking.

“I’m sure you have plenty of options, especially given your financial situation. You don’t want to date me,” I tell him, hoping to make him feel better about my rejection. Because I’m insane and I honestly feel bad because he thought this would work. Women don’t tell him no. “I’m all messed up. Ex-fiancé drama and all. Add in your womanizing and it’s a recipe for disaster,” I admit. I’m honest even though he doesn’t deserve my honesty, and even though my crazy heartbeat and the throbbing between my legs tell a different story.

“I’m sorry if I offended you. You’re good. I did my research. I want you on my accounts. No date. I never should have tried that tactic,” he says, looking remorseful. He doesn’t even meet my eyes. He looks down at the floor as he speaks.

Morganna’s words bounce around in