THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,14

my head. Bad news, Winnie. Bad news. I can’t even help it. I’m still inclined to throw myself at him. Thank God my brain speaks before my body does.

“My associate, Garrett, will be happy to manage your accounts,” I say. Garrett will be more than pleased to have this pushed his way. I’ll have to make up some lie about not being able to comfortably deal with the amount, because I sure as shit can’t tell him the real reason I don’t want to deal with the money or T.H. I smile. “He’s good. Just as good as me, I assure you.”

Dimples flash at me. They look less mouthwatering and a little more menacing. Eyes narrowed he asks, “That’s two no’s then?”

“Yes,” I tell him as I extend his paperwork out to him. “I have an afternoon appointment. I appreciate all of your interest. Garrett’s office is out my door, first door on the left.” I take one more look at the assets and liabilities on the page before he takes it from my hand and strides out of the door like a freaking Viking called to war.

I should have just accepted the date, because now I feel like all I managed to do is poke a grizzly with a long stick. I won’t be able to find that long of a stick next time. I don’t want Steve. I don’t want anyone that will make me think of Maverick. I need to get him out of my system…and fast.

Maverick

She sent me away like a diseased leper. Not only that, but she did it easily. She didn’t even consider fucking me, even when she saw the money. No dollar signs flashed in her eyes like a normal woman. No. She said “No.” And she even tried to make me feel better about her rejection, doling out some story about how messed up she is.

I passed desperate asshole status a long time ago. Hanging out in this level of embarrassment is new. I had no intention of going to visit Garth’s office. I’m so fucking pissed off and frustrated. To top it off, my dick is hard. It didn’t get the rejection memo yet. The tight skirt, the flawless skin in daylight, the blue eyes that show every emotion she has. If I saw another guy I’d probably end up doing something stupid, breaking something or saying something really incriminating.

It took more self control than I knew I possessed to walk out of that woman’s office without saying anything else, or just bending her over the desk and fucking her senseless. This pit in my stomach would be gone if that had happened. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy, though. The challenge to bag her while she screams my name is now the only thing that consumes my thoughts.

A new layer to the game surfaces—I want her to care about me. I want her to give a shit. I want the very thought of my absence to cause her physical pain.

“You know what?” I whisper to myself as I pass Garth’s office. “What the fuck. Why not?”

I turn around and grip the doorknob to his office and blast inside. I cock my head to the side at Garth’s startled appearance. He holds his desk phone to his ear.

“Uhh,” he says into the receiver, “he just got here.” He pauses again as he listens to the female voice on the other end, a voice that can only be Windsor’s. Garth holds up a finger in the air. Seriously? This little prick is telling me to wait? “Sure, Win. Drinks sound good. Tonight?”

Windsor shoots me down and asks this asshole out? Not even minutes after I leave. Win? He uses a nickname, too and it sounds intimate and familiar. I want to crack his skull against a wall. I want to use her nickname.

Reel it in, Mav. Why do I care what he calls her? I don’t give a shit. Garth is fucking with my game. That’s why it pisses me off. That’s it. Nothing else.

“Captain’s at 8 o’clock,” he whispers, probably trying to be discreet because I’m staring him down. He hangs up the phone and smiles a goofy fucking smile. Because Windsor asked him out. I’d have that smile if she said yes to me. Now, I get to see what it looks like first hand.

“Ms. Forbes said you’d be coming over,” he says.

Now she’s Ms. Forbes. Fucking convenient. My hands are shaking at my sides. I can’t control them.