Reese frowned. He’d never met her before this morning. “Where did you meet Merina Van Heusen?”
“Hotel supply conference.” Tag shrugged.
Reese shook his head. If there was a party, Tag was there. It’s one reason he was damn good at what he did for Crane. No one schmoozed like Tag.
“I spoke to her and her parents about the VH. It was obvious she loved that building for more than its bottom-line potential,” Tag said.
“Bad business,” Alex put in.
“Merina is more than just a numbers girl,” Reese stated, agreeing with both his brother and his father. Her passion for her hotel was a tick in the plus column for Reese, because he had something she wanted. That he’d bet she’d do anything to get back.
“I have a perception problem,” Reese said.
Alex grunted his agreement.
“The board sees me as a rich, spoiled prince about to inherit the kingdom. They don’t trust me. I’m unsettled. A loner.” A playboy, the tabloids said. He didn’t care for the insulting title, but it wasn’t untrue. He enjoyed the company of a number of women, consensually, of course, and he wasn’t about to apologize for it.
“A man-whore?” Tag offered.
Reese glared.
“Last one.” Tag held up a hand of surrender and smiled around his beard, a flash of straight, white teeth thanks to braces he’d bitched about for two years.
“Bed-hopping” as Frank, the douche bag, had called it during the meeting. Whether Reese agreed or not, the perception was there and wasn’t going anywhere. As long as the shareholders remained puritanically dated and the board handed them their balls—female board member Lilith’s included, because Reese would bet aces to assholes she had them—Reese was going to have a problem. Which meant he had to change his nefarious ways.
On the outside.
“I have to alter that perception,” Reese said. “Go from a man who enjoys the company of many women to a man who enjoys the company of one woman.”
“Can you even do that?” Tag smirked.
Smart-ass. Reese ignored him and continued. “Once they see me settled, snuggled into a routine, they’ll pay more attention to my achievements. The press will have to report on the woman who tamed me rather than the women I discard.” That wasn’t how he operated, but there was no convincing the outside world. The women he dated knew the score, enjoyed their time spent, and moved on. But reporters were vampires. They wanted blood and amicability didn’t make for interesting headlines.
It was the run-in with Merina that started Reese’s gears turning. She was fiery and passionate but also elegant and intelligent. If he were involved with someone like her, the local rags would have no choice but to take notice. One relationship for show could fix all of his problems. It was almost too simple.
He told his brother and father as much, finishing with, “Merina is the whole package.”
She’d fit into Reese’s world—into his plan—seamlessly. At the mention of package, he pictured her again. She’d been a study in opposites: stylish in understated matching jewelry, high-end name-brand shoes and clothing, yet she’d been borderline unhinged. Soaked to the bone and in complete disarray.
Her honeyed blond hair had begun to dry—the ends curling against her shoulders, while her silk shirt was plastered to her body, her breasts in particular, nipples erect and staring him in the face. But her fantastic tits didn’t have his undivided attention. Through her shirt, he’d been able to see the outline and a dab of color on what appeared to be a tattoo.
A tattoo.
It’d taken Herculean willpower to return his gaze to her strongly arched brows and frowning full lips. And even more willpower to keep his mind from wondering what bit of ink she’d permanently etched onto her skin. A butterfly? A teddy bear? A pair of hearts? Merina was a beautiful woman. Seeing her disheveled and learning that under her prim-and-proper exterior there lived a wild woman was…fascinating.
It’d been a long time since anyone had fascinated him.
“You. Settled?” One of Tag’s eyebrows climbed his forehead. “With Merina Van Heusen?”
“That’s the gist.” Reese nodded.
“How? She has to hate you for trying to disassemble the VH.”
“A minor setback.”
Tag laughed so hard, he nearly toppled off his chair. By the time he righted himself, he was swiping moisture from his eyes and shaking his head. “Good luck with that, brother.”
Reese felt his mouth tug at the corners. He saw no other way. This would have to work.
“Merina sounds like the perfect option,” Alex interjected, and Reese breathed a sigh of relief. His father, his hero. If Alex saw this working, it would. They shared a brain for business, for negotiating. “She’ll do anything to keep her family’s legacy intact. And she’s tough enough to handle the press.”
“No kidding.” Reese grunted. In the short time he’d seen her, she’d barreled into his office unannounced, given his dinner date from last week an icy glare, and called him a suited sewer rat. Plus—
“She used the term horseshit,” Reese said, drawing the attention of the other men. “Who says that?” As he asked that question, he felt the corner of his mouth lift in amusement. When she said the word shit, her upper lip canted to one side, just a tad. Thanks to the rain that had washed away some of her makeup he’d noticed there was a tiny pale freckle at the corner of her mouth.
Sexy.
“Merina is tough, but also soft,” he said, dragging his thoughts back on course. “She dresses like a lady, handles herself like a woman, and doesn’t allow anyone to boss her around.”
“Including you,” Alex added. “But if you have her cooperation, sounds like she could smooth out your rough edges in the public eye.”
“Agree to what? What are we talking about here?” Tag, who was grinning in confusion, shook his head. “You going to demand she date you?”
“I’m going to ask her to marry me,” Reese stated, and his brother’s smile erased.
Alex smiled proudly. “Brilliant.”
“For six months,” Reese said. “An agreement that will end as soon as I’ve established my CEO status. Then we can quietly divorce, and I’ll sign over the Van Heusen.”
Jaw ajar, Tag looked from his father to his brother. “You’re both insane.”
“I’m desperate,” Reese said. It was the truth. “If I don’t convince the board to give me Dad’s position, they will appoint a CEO outside of this family.”
“That can’t happen.” Tag looked appropriately upset. None of them wanted anyone other than a family member running Crane Hotels.
“No,” Reese agreed. “It can’t.”
Alex was retiring in six months. He wouldn’t put off his retirement, a move that Reese supported a million percent. His father wouldn’t let the board bully him. “Start showing weakness, Reese,” he’d said, “and they’ll pick at your carcass the rest of your reign. We need them. But they need us more. We just have to make them see it.”
It was an irritating corporate chess game, but Reese was learning to toe the line when necessary. He planned on growing Crane Hotels to twice the size his father had, and to do that, he couldn’t be a lone wolf. He needed the support of the people who made decisions: the board.
Since his work ethic preceded him and they still didn’t trust him, the wolf would have to put on sheep’s clothing to make them believe he was one of the herd. A family man. A husband intent on keeping up squeaky-clean public appearances.
Win the press, win the board.
Win the board, win CEO.
But Reese also knew his weaknesses. He needed someone who was his opposite yet equal. He needed someone who could handle pressure elegantly, even while using the word horseshit.
He needed Merina Van Heusen.
“I have a dinner date,” Alex announced, standing from his chair.
“Who is she?” Tag teased.
Big Crane’s sons had all taken after him, none
of them planning on settling down—well, until just now. But Reese’s would be a marriage on paper—totally different. His father had loved their mother, and after she died, he never found another to fill her shoes. Alex was in his sixties and neither the board nor the media cared if he dated. No, that magnifying glass focus fell on Reese, who was the next in line as heir to the Crane throne. Tag’s dating was overlooked because he was the party guy and it was expected. Eli was a nonissue since he was overseas. Maybe when he came home, the press would care who he was fucking.
Reese doubted it. The media had their hooks into him. He was the easy target—the man who’d made tawdry headlines because of the number of women he spent time with—and never spent time with more than once.
“She is a he, and he is the linen supplier for the greater Chicago area,” Alex answered.
“You’re supposed to be retired,” Reese said.
“Six months.” His father pointed at him. Reese smiled. His old man. Retired but not dead, he often said of his future plans. Alex turned and left the conference room and Reese stood to do the same. It had been a hell of a long day already and was less than half over. He didn’t stop at five, unless it was five a.m.
“Explain to me why you have to marry Merina Van Heusen?” Tag asked, still lounging in the chair. Even dressed nicely, he resembled a lazy cat. He was damn good, though. Guest and Restaurant Services was not an easy part of the hotel business to keep running, but Tag did it flawlessly. And dressed like a bum half the time. Go figure.
“Because Kate Hudson is taken?”
Tag rolled his eyes. “Why not just date her?”
“The board needs to see I’m serious. Nothing is more serious than marriage. Once I’ve settled down, they’ll see I’m a changed man. Responsible.”
“No longer the consummate billionaire bachelor,” Tag drawled, quoting one of the gossip rags.
“Right,” Reese agreed. “It’s a business deal like any other deal.” He lifted his iPhone and tucked it into his jacket pocket, then straightened his shirtsleeves. “It has perimeters, an end date, and a goal. I’m going to give her a few days—maybe wait until next week to ask her. After she cools down, Merina will see. She’s a smart businesswoman, despite the fact that she’s in love with that relic of a hotel.”
“Sentimentality isn’t a crime.”
“It isn’t, but it’s a tool I can use to my advantage. Our advantage,” he amended. “This will be advantageous for both of us.”
“I’m all for you being in position of CEO, Reese; you know I am. This is your destiny. Your legacy. The board is making a mistake if they look elsewhere,” Tag said.
“I appreciate that,” Reese said, meaning it. The Crane men had always stuck together. His youngest brother may ride his ass on occasion, but in the clutch, Tag had his back.
“But,” Tag continued, his tone cautious, “blackmail is low, bro.” He finally stood, slowly, then crossed his arms over his chest. Tag was taller than Reese or Eli, standing close to six-five. Massive shoulders, huge arms, and tree-trunk legs came from their father’s side, the towering height from their mother’s father. Granddad Weller was huge. Eli and Reese liked to give Tag a hard time about his hair, but Tag refused to cut it. Either he had a Samson complex or he liked looking like a beached merman, it was hard to say.
“It’s not blackmail. It’s proper motivation.”
Tag swept the legal pad off the desk, not a word written on it. Reese had no idea why he brought a pad to meetings except that maybe he thought it made him look like he fit here and not on a biplane in a jungle. Tag scrubbed a hand over his heavy facial hair. “I’m going to grab a burger. You?”
Reese shook his head. He’d eat at his desk like he did every day. Didn’t keep Tag from asking. Which he appreciated. As brothers who were musketeers at heart, none of them would ever let the other one remain in solitude.
“I need to make a few phone calls,” Reese said as he opened the door.
“Guess so,” Tag said, walking out ahead of him; then he threw over his shoulder, “You have a wedding to plan and a bride to propose to. In that order.”
Chapter 3
Thanks, Heather,” Merina said to the Van Heusen’s new bartender-slash-waitress as she headed out the door. Flame, the restaurant in the Van Heusen, hadn’t been terribly busy tonight, but Heather had handled the bar by herself, and given that she’d only been working for the VH for two weeks, Merina was suitably impressed.
Nearly a week had passed since she’d barged into Reese Crane’s office, and neither she nor her parents, as far as she knew, had heard from him again.
After she’d left the hotel’s doorknob on Reese’s desk, Merina had stomped back into the VH, snatched a few towels off a passing cart, and gone into her office. After snagging a sweater off a hook on the wall and putting it on, she went to her mother’s office, only to find her father in there, too, leaning over the computer.
Merina hadn’t given them a chance to acknowledge her before she started in on them.
“How could you keep something like this from me?” she’d asked while wringing her hair in the towel.
Her father had straightened and held up a hand. “Honey, take a breath.”
“I can’t take a breath. I can’t even think! You sold the hotel without telling me? How much financial strain were you under? Did you consider asking me for help? How could you go outside the family with this?”
When her emotions got the best of her and tears welled in her eyes, her father eased her down on the sofa in her mother’s office and they flanked her on either side.
Then they told her how things had snowballed into an avalanche.
Her father, Mark, had insisted on doing the financials himself and had overlooked many opportunities for write-offs over the years. The new accounting firm discovered back taxes they owed. Then there were the repairs needed. An inspection that didn’t go well. A recent turnover in employees because a guy had stolen money from the restaurant cash register. Add in her father’s recent hospital expenses and it was a recipe for desperation.
“Big Crane was willing to buy it,” Mark had told her, one arm solidly around her back. “As it stood, we would have had to put thousands into it just to sell. And your mother and I would likely be out of jobs.”
“But you’ll be out of jobs soon!” Merina huffed her frustration. “And so will I.”
Her parents hadn’t known that part, which made her feel moderately better—at least they hadn’t kept that from her too.
“I spoke with him,” Merina had confessed. “He won’t fire me immediately.” She didn’t know if that was true, but she intended to speak with him further about it. Next time with a dry shirt.
That day she’d wanted so badly for her parents to share in her outrage. Instead her mother had encouraged her in her typical glass-half-full way by saying, “You’re young, you’re brilliant, and we have faith that you’ll find where you belong, even if it isn’t here.”
Which made her suspect they were resigned to their plight.
Merina paced through the barren restaurant now, her mind latched onto the past. Reese had made it clear to her he wasn’t keeping any of them. Not her parents, not Merina, and she guessed the rest of the building’s loyal staff would be in danger of losing their jobs too.
She wasn’t foolish enough to believe he’d forgotten about their discussion, but there were no further e-mails or appointments, and the locksmith had replaced the card reader on the hotel room door, only now there was a mismatched doorknob instead of the one she’d gifted to Crane.
No construction workers in hard hats had shown up to destroy the building during that week, so for that, she was grateful. The more Reese Crane dragged his heels, the more time she had to come up with a solution to save her job and the hotel from being turned into a glass shrine.
She flipped the sign around at the threshold of Flame so that it read CLOSED as her cell phone chimed. A text at one a.m.? Had to be Lorelei. Maybe back fro
m a horrific date and ready to share all the gory details. Lore knew Merina didn’t go to sleep until three, sometimes four. But a glance at the screen showed that it wasn’t her best friend, but an unknown number.
Call me if you’re awake.
“Sorry, creeper,” she said as she pocketed her phone. “I’m not playing this game.” Before she stepped into the lobby, though, her phone chimed again. She dug it out of her pocket.
Reese Crane.
Her heart lifted to her throat. Reese Crane was texting her? He’d ignored her for the last week while she tried not to fret over whether he’d roll a wrecking ball down Rush Street for a surprise hotel smashing, and now he was texting her? She stared at the seven words on her screen as if she might consider responding.
Which of course she wouldn’t.
What if he’d changed his mind about the Van Heusen? About keeping Merina on as manager?
Don’t be ridiculous.
That’s not what he wanted. The man was an arrogant, pompous jerk who didn’t have any reason to contact her unless he wanted to twist the knife. He could call her during normal business hours.
But even as the thought occurred, she didn’t put her phone away. Only bit her lip and continued staring. If something was about to go down with the hotel, or with her job, or if there was a way to prevent things from going south, then she needed to know as soon as possible.
“Everything all right, Ms. Van Heusen?” Arnold asked from the front desk. He’d worked here since she was a little girl. And because she loved the nighttime, and so did he, she had often sneaked down to sit with him while her parents worked instead of stay in bed.
In the end, that memory was what changed her mind. If there was a chance to save their jobs, she owed Arnold and her parents the discomfort of returning Satan Crane’s call.
“Everything’s fine, Arnold. Thanks for asking. I’m making some tea. Can I get you something?”
“I’m good, but thank you.” He grinned, and the wide smile comforted her right to her soul.
“You’re welcome.” Her returning smile faded as she turned back into the bar area and tapped her phone screen.
The Billionaire Bachelor (Billionaire Bad Boys Book 1) Page 3