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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?”
Chapter 27
Elsa
I don’t really need to buy this overpriced packet and pee-on-some-stick to know what’s going on with me right now.
The writing is on the fucking wall. If there’s one thing I know well, it’s my own body. I know it better than anyone else in the world.
My body ticks like clockwork.
For a while now, I’ve ignored the symptoms.
There’s been my sense of smell. Suddenly, I’ve been able to pick up the scent of coffee five blocks away.
I’m a New Yorker, but even for us, that’s pushing it.
The vomiting this morning was icing on the dipshit cake, really.
I mean, how stupid can I I get? Why didn’t I make Tanner wear a condom?
Why didn’t I look after birth control?
I’m Elsa fucking Blakely. I should have had my shit together.
Instead, I let Tanner Sharpe and his magic cock send my shit spiraling out of control.
I grab the damn test and turn towards the cashier.
“Elsa Blakely,” an all too familiar voice croons behind me. “Come here often?
Out of all the corner shops in NYC, of course, I picked the one that Lis Langley frequents.
Life sucks sometimes.
“I’m busy, Lis,” I tell her. “Some other time.”
“Looks like you’re still deciding. Mind if I ask you a few questions?”
