Chapter 26

Tanner

Okay, admittedly, this isn’t the first bag of puke that I’ve ever been stuck holding that isn’t mine. But I’ll be damned if it isn’t the heaviest.

How the fuck could she hold that much in her stomach?

But that’s hardly the point right now.

Elsa is quite the exceptional saleswoman, but this time, I ain’t buying what she’s selling.

There’s more, a lot more, going on than she’s telling me. And you best believe I plan to find out just what the fuck it is that she’s hiding from me.

I just need to get rid of this fucking gaudy bag filled with vomit first.

My eyes look up and down the hallway for a trash bin or anything I can hide this fucking bag in when I hear an oh-so-familiar shrill voice coming up behind me—Jean Mayer.

Have you ever seen the movie ‘American Pie’? If you haven’t, then you should.

Jean’s like the real-life version of Stifler’s Mom from that movie. It’s scary how similar the two of them are. She’s blonde, busty—thanks to implants—and has a thing for young cocks.

Fuck, she’s got more wieners at her disposal than Oscar Mayer.

She’s got an eye for talent though, which is why she sits on the board as our VP of Talent Relations. It’s a job she takes seriously and is very hands on—if you catch my drift.

She’s screeching at her poor assistant—her third this month—about how her slim, soy, banana cherry latte was too cold for her this morning.

But once she sees me—and I wish she hadn’t—she puts her abuse on hold to bat her fake eyelashes at me.

Her dark blue eyes look me over like she’s eyeballing a T-bone steak on the grill.

As much as I can’t blame her—I do look extra tasty today, if I say so myself—she’s definitely not my type. Even if Elsa isn’t in my life right now, the woman would have no chance…too much botox.

“Well, hello, Tanner. It’s so lovely to see you in the office today. Feels like forever since I’ve gotten to lay my eyes on you,” she coos.

“You know me. Always working away. Got to stay on top of everything.”

Ah, fuck, I shouldn’t have said that.

Jean licks her lips, and they quirk upward into a suggestive smirk.

“Hmm, I like a strong man on top.”

And there it is! I’ve left that door wide open, haven’t I?

“I bet you say that to all the men.”

“Only the ones I want to eat.”

I’ve had a lot of weird and awkward encounters with Jean over the years. It has basically become our thing at this point.

But this one right here? This takes the fucking cake.

“Luckily for you, this time, I’ve already got a dinner date planned with a couple lovely prospects from Italy. I do want to thank you for getting my bag ready for me though.”

“Your bag? Oh, your bag!”

This is the part where the awkward factor gets dialed up to eleven.

Jean reaches out and takes her bag from my grasp. Her hand lingers on mine for longer than needed, and I catch her bite down on her lower lip.

“So kind and thoughtful of you to get my bag for me.”

“Yes, well, about that—”

“We’ll have to catch up soon, darling. But, I really must run.”

Jean hangs up on her assistant and opens her bag, never taking her hungry eyes off me while she does, and drops her phone into it.

She flashes me a wink, not even realizing what she’s done, and walks past me to go meet her next victims.

I’m really not looking forward to the next time I see her after this.

Now that the Queen of the Cougars is gone, I can get after Elsa.

I rush for the stairs like I’m the Coyote chasing the Road Runner, only I plan to succeed where my cartoon counterpart has failed time and time again.

I’m leaping down half a flight of stairs at a time. At this rate, I’ll be able to catch Elsa in the lobby in no time.

But when I reach the lobby, I don’t see Elsa.

I wait for each elevator to open up, and she’s not in any of them.

Now I’m annoyed, frustrated, and angry.

This is not how I wanted to spend my day.

My fingers slide through my hair as I let out a heavy sigh. I turn to go back upstairs when I come face to face with the last person I ever wanted to—or expected—to see.

“Hello, Tanner. We need to talk.”

Jackson fucking Halo, former owner of Crooked Halo—and my former boss.

Apparently, fate decided to show me that things can always get worse.

“Look, Jackson, I’m kind of busy right now, and I have no time to talk, or walk down memory lane, or do anything else that you came here for.”

Honestly, I never really thought highly of Jackson at all.

The guy gave me my big break—and I’ll always be grateful for it—but he really did put the crooked in Crooked Halo.

If it hadn’t been for his colossal fuck up, things between Elsa and I wouldn’t have likely crashed and burned like it did.

And I wouldn’t be stuck in this lobby trying to hunt her down after handing Stifler’s Mom a three-thousand-dollar bag filled of puke.

So talking to Jackson isn’t exactly on my list of shit I have time for today…or any day, really.

“You think that, but the truth is, Tanner, we need to sit down and talk. Everything else on your plate, including Elsa, can wait.”

I dislike how calm and matter-of-fact his tone is right now. Something about it just isn’t sitting right in my stomach.

“And what makes you so fucking sure of that, huh? More insider trading tips? Or did you just consult a Magic 8-Ball instead?”

It’s pretty obvious from the clench of his jaw that he doesn’t take too kindly to my snark.

Well, too fucking bad for him.

“I’m going to tell you this right now, Tanner,” he starts as he closes the short gap between us, his voice cold. “If you want to keep your company afloat and make sure that everyone around us still has a job come the end of the month, then you’re going to come with me up to your office and talk now. Otherwise, all of this is going to come crashing down on your head. So what’s it going to be, hotshot?”