Tapping Her: A Billionaire Bad Boys Novella (Book 1.5) (Bad Boy Billionaires) by Monroe Max

Author:Monroe, Max [Monroe, Max]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: A Billionaire Bad Boys novella
Publisher: Max Monroe LLC
Published: 2016-06-19T04:00:00+00:00

New York, Monday April 24th, Early Afternoon

“He’s been missing for four nights,” Cassie said in my ear through the phone. Unable to avoid the office for more than a day, I’d given her my work number in case of an emergency or breakthrough. Apparently, she took those parameters very lightly. This was her tenth call today.

Yeah, I hear you. Yet again, I am the one answering her calls. Therefore, I’m still the idiot here.

“I know, honey. But I’m sure he’s fine. He’s scrappy. A real street cat. His assholishness might actually be coming in handy.”

I’d gotten in touch with Kline’s dad, and ever efficient, Bob had the vet on the hunt. But four long nights without an actual capture, and even I was starting to miss the little bastard. Or maybe I wasn’t, but I was visualizing the pain in sweet Georgie’s eyes when she heard the news and listening to near hysteria from her best friend at that very moment. Their pain was feeling very much like my pain.

“You think he’s falling in line with the right cats, though?” she asked ridiculously. “Georgie’ll be so pissed if she comes home to find him in a gang of runaways.”

I rubbed at the tension in my forehead and turned my chair to face the floor-to-ceiling windows in my office.

“Well, if he does, we’ll be here to force him into rehabilitation through intervention.”

“Right,” she scoffed, like I was the crazy one. “Like there’s a cat rehab. Good one, Thatcher. It must be right next door to the cat detective.”

“Cass—”

“I lied to her.”

“Who? The cat detective?” I asked, completely lost.

“Wheorgie, numbnuts! I told her about the microchip, but I didn’t tell her that we hadn’t actually found him.”

“The vet’s been getting a signal,” I told her, even though she already knew. I hoped that hearing it again might help to calm her down. “He’s just been moving around too much to pinpoint an exact location for pickup.”

“Yeah, Thatcher. I know all these things. Jesus.”

Closing my eyes, I leaned back into my leather desk chair and sighed. “You called me. What exactly are you after here? Honest to God, I’m trying.” Harder than I would with anyone else, I thought to myself. “But I can’t for the life of me figure out what you want.”

“I don’t know either,” she said, but fuck, the uncertainty, the longing—all of it made her simple words sound an awful lot like, I just wanted to talk to you.

“Cass—”

“I gotta go, T-bag. Let me know if you hear anything about Walnuts,” she rushed out. And then with a quick click of the line, she was gone.

I spun around to my desk and tossed the phone in the cradle before rubbing a hand down my face in annoyance. Everything between us felt foreign, like I couldn’t get a handle on it. The weirdest part was not knowing if I wanted to.

“Mr. Kelly?” my assistant, Madeline, called on the intercom. Reaching forward, I pushed the button on my phone panel to answer.

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