Anagram

by Sienna Grant

  “I can schedule that for you Monday morning, Mr. Hicks.” I didn’t even get a chance to get my answer out before Margie offered like she was teacher’s pet. “I don’t mind doing it. Reagan has enough on her plate, and she’s always busy on Mondays.”

  “Okay, thank you, Margie. That’s truly kind of you.” Terry then turns to me. “You know, Reagan, you could do much worse than this young lady as your assistant. I’m impressed. You chose well.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Hicks. That means a lot.” I force a polite smile at my boss, but inside I’m screaming. With nothing else to do, I pick up my glass and drain its contents. I look up and find Everett watching my every move. Shaking my head, I catch a passing waiter by the arm and order a vodka and lemonade.

  “I wish I could be like you, Reagan,” Margie says, grabbing my attention. “You’re just so confident.”

  “Thanks.” I look over my shoulder, hoping to see the waiter coming back with my drink, but instead all I see is Terry and Everett shaking hands. Terry pulls him closer and whispers something to him. Everett nods and drops his hand.

  The shareholders decide they’ve had enough and say goodnight to us, leaving empty chairs around the table. Everett pulls a recently vacated chair over and sits next to me. Just at that time, the waiter returns with my drink. I’m bored shitless now, and Margie’s sucking up is starting to irritate the fuck out of me.

  Everett’s hand settles on my thigh beneath the table, and goosebumps cover my skin. I give him a warning look, telling him not to, but he doesn’t listen to my unspoken request. His fingers slip beneath the side split of my dress, and I have to cover his hand with mine to stop his progression. My breath catches in the back of my throat, causing me to cough lightly, and I try to regain my composure by grabbing my glass and taking a sip of the sweet drink.

  Margie stands and walks around the table until she’s reached Ev. “Do you mind if I take this seat?”

  He whips his hand back like he’s been bitten. For the second time tonight he’s been cockblocked. I want to laugh, but seeing Margie take the seat on his other side has my anger rising.

  “No, of course not. Take it.”

  She asks Ev about his company, so I turn to Amelia, who strikes up a conversation about hair and fashion, and I soon found out that she likes the same shops I do.

  Margie’s laugh rips through me. I turn to pick up my glass and see her hand on Ev’s arm. I stare for a beat too long before knocking back the rest of my vodka. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me tonight. I just feel off. I let Margie get to me, even though she was no different than when we were in the office. I bang my glass down on the table harder than I mean to, causing Everett and Margie to pause. His hand on my forearm feels like it’s burning a hole in my skin.

  “I’m fine.” I stop a passing waiter and order another but make it a large one. If I have to put up with this, then I may as well be numb and not have to listen to it.

  Thirty-One

  Everett

  I heave Reagan up into my arms, lifting her from the limo. Once I thank the driver, I carry her into the building and to the elevator. She’d fallen asleep with her head against my chest not long after we got in the car.

  In the elevator, I hold her against my chest and watch the numbers change from floor to floor until we reach the tenth floor. I carry her the short way to my apartment and take my key from my pocket, opening the door. Reagan groans as her nose nestles into my neck, getting herself comfortable in my arms.

  I take her into the bedroom and lay her on my bed, taking a minute to just look at her, brushing my fingertips across her forehead and sweeping away the hair that has fallen into her eyes. I take her shoes off one by one and place them in the closet before stripping out of my suit. I hang up my jacket and pants and throw my shirt into the linen basket, before finding a shirt for Reagan to sleep in.

  I pull the sheet back on my side of the bed before and trying to get Reagan changed for the night. She groans as I start pulling her dress up her body, her eyelids flickering.

  “What’re you doing?” Her head lolls forward when I pick her torso up. “I don’t think I’m up for shex, babe.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Lift your arms up for me.” I chuckle quietly. She attempts to lift them but they’re floppy and just fall back down. “Open your eyes a second.”

  Her eyelids flutter but don’t actually open. Shaking my head, I snort to myself as I manage to get her dress over her head and the shirt on before she drops back to the bed. I maneuver her arms into the sleeves and pull the sheet from under her, laying it softly over her legs before getting into bed myself.

  I tuck my arm beneath my cheek and watch her sleep. She was only on her third vodka by the time Terry and Amelia left, which was good because she was still coherent then. The longer I watched her, the more I knew I needed to get her home. And not because I wanted to tear that dress from her sexy body and fuck her til she was raw. No, I knew if she had any more alcohol, truths would start spilling from her lips and she’d have regretted it tomorrow.

  I haven’t figured out what was wrong with her, but I guess that’s a conversation for the morning. Switching off the bedside lamp, I move closer to Reagan and drift off to sleep.

  When I wake the next morning, Reagan is still sleeping like a baby. Instead of disturbing her, I gently get out of bed and put the coffee maker on. She may not be ready for coffee yet, but I certainly am.

  As soon as the coffee is ready, I pour it into a mug and sit back down. So many things are going through my mind. Why does Terry want to see me? What was wrong with Reagan last night?

  I try to clear my mind while I drink. I need to be awake and caffeinated before I start getting answers. The only other way to wake me up is a run. I gulp down my coffee and go to the bedroom. Within minutes of getting dressed into some sweats, a shirt, and my sneakers, I grab my phone and airpods and run out of the door.

  After a brisk run through Central Park, I make my way to the deli and grab us some breakfast. When I walk into my apartment, I find Reagan slumped over the breakfast bar, her head resting on her forearm.

  “Good morning, sunshine.”

  Reagan lifts her head a fraction and looks me up and down. “Ugh.”

  I shut the door, walk to the counter, and place the paper bag in front of her.

  “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Open the bag and find out.” I place my phone and airpods on the counter and pour more coffee for myself. “I see you’ve helped yourself to coffee.”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Taking my coffee over to the breakfast bar, I take the stool across from her. “How are you feeling?”

  “Rough.”

  “Do you want to talk about last night?”

  “I can’t. I feel like a heavy metal band is playing a gig inside my head.” The skin between her eyebrows creases as she lifts her cup up to her lips. She takes a careful sip before taking a doughnut from the bag. She sinks her teeth into the sugary goodness and smiles. “Later maybe?”

  I nod in agreement before pulling out a doughnut for myself.

  “Any chance I can borrow some sweats to go home in? I don’t feel like doing the walk of shame in that dress and those shoes. I don’t even think I could put those shoes on today, my feet are hurting so much.”

  With a nod, I push up from the stool and go around to Reagan. I put my hands on the bare, silky skin of her thighs and twist her to face me. “Well, I’m sweaty, I’m going to take a shower. But before you leave, we are going to talk.” I brush sugar from her nose before placing my lips on hers and suck. Her eyes widen while a smile forms on her mouth. “Sugar,” I say with a shrug.

  Walking away from her, I drag my shirt over my head, then turn and throw it at her. She catches it and smiles. “Eat your doughnuts and drink your coffee. I won’t be long.”

  Thirty-Two

  Reagan

  Everett knows what his body does to me. I gulp dow
n the rest of my coffee and eat the rest of my doughnut before I slide off the stool and follow him.

  By the time I reach the closed bathroom door, the water was already running. I opened the door and see steam has already started to accumulate. Shutting the door softly, I pull Everett’s tee from my body and step inside his huge shower. It could probably fit a whole hockey team; it was that big.

  Everett’s head hangs between his outstretched arms, his hands against the tiled wall, the water running over his body. Taking a tentative step closer, I place my hands on his back, softly run my palms over his slick olive skin, and place my lips between his shoulder blades.

  “I wondered how long it would take for you to join me.”

  My hands still and my eyebrows pull into a frown. “Are you angry with me?” I ask softly. Usually, he’d make me shower with him, or at least ask me to shower with him.

  Everett slowly shakes his head before turning to face me. He circles my elbows with his hands and grips me tightly, tugging me to him. My breasts brush against his chest, causing my body to react almost instantly. He turns us around and my back hits the wall. The coldness of the tile is a shock, but I’m too turned on to care. My nipples pebble as his stare bores into me. He gathers my two hands in his one, pushes them above my head, and holds them in place before he smashes his lips to mine. His tongue plunges through the closed seam of my lips and duels with mine. He thrusts his free hand in my hair, threading his fingers into my wet hair and tugging just enough for it to sting. I gasp into Everett’s mouth as my core throbs. His hardened length presses against my stomach.

  “Drop to your knees for me, baby,” Everett says, his voice low in my ear. “I want to feel those lips around my dick.”

  Doing exactly as he asks; I circled my fingers around his erection and slide my hand up and down his shaft. I glance up at Everett and see his eyes are on me. I feel like I can do anything when he watches me like this. I suck on the head of his cock, smiling when he groans.

  “Fuck, Rae. Suck me baby.”

  I slide my lips over the head, all the way down to the base, before pulling up and repeated my actions again. I’m soaking wet and want to touch myself or be touched. His fingers tangle into my hair again and he tightens his grip, dominating my movements. He thrusts in and out, over, and over again. Reaching up, I cupped his ass, digging my nails into his skin and dragging them down his cheeks.

  “Fuck. Get up.” Once I’m on my feet, he doesn’t waste any time in lifting me and impaling me onto his strained erection, my back slapping against the wet wall. My fingers thread through his hair and scraped over his scalp, causing him to shout out. Plunging into me again and again, my core tightens around him and that familiar feeling takes over.

  “Oh my God, Ev. I’m gonna come.”

  He pauses for a second and looks me in the eye. “Let’s go together.” His mouth smashes to mine, licking and nibbling, his tongue swirling with mine as his dick slams inside me, hitting that sweet spot. With a scream I catapult over the edge of the most intense orgasm I think I’ve ever experienced. Everett roars through his orgasm and the aftershocks have me trembling. He pulls out of me slowly, letting my feet drop to the shower floor.

  Surprisingly, my hangover is much better after coffee, doughnuts, a shower, and sex. It was a much-needed tension reliever. As I sit on his couch in a shirt and a pair of Ev’s shorts, I tuck my knees into my chest and wrap my arms around my legs while I wait for my coffee. Everett is intent on talking.

  Armed with two cups, he puts them on the coffee table and sit on the opposite end of the couch, watching me. I stretch out my legs and sigh. Lifting up my feet, he slides toward me and places them on his thighs, his hands working some kind of miracle as he massages my feet. I slide further down and rest my head on the arm of the couch.

  “This is all very domesticated, Mr. Brooks. But wasn’t there something you wanted to discuss?”

  He smiles before asking, “What happened last night?”

  “What do you mean?” I frown. “You’ll have to be more specific I’m afraid.”

  “I sensed a little hostility between you and Margie.”

  “First of all, she wasn’t supposed to be there. And didn’t you feel like she was trying to undermine me?”

  Everett takes my hand and cups it in both of his. “I think she was just trying to fit in. She probably felt threatened by you.”

  “Me? Oh please.” I sigh and drag my feet from his lap, sitting up and grabbing my coffee before it goes cold. “I’m her boss. Why would she feel even remotely threatened by me?”

  “Because you’re beautiful. You’re strong and determined. Any woman in their right mind would want to be you.”

  I stare at him for a second, not quite believing he’s just said all that. It’s probably the sweetest thing he’s ever said to me. I close my eyes and sigh again. “She just knocked me off kilter. Then the vodka kicked in…”

  “And the rest is history, as they say,” Everett adds smirking.

  “Yeah.” I take a gulp of coffee and put it back down on the table. I tuck my hands into my lap, crossing my legs on the couch. “What do you think Terry thought?” I ask him and met his gaze.

  “I’m not sure he noticed the frosty reception you were giving her. You know what he’s like—unless it involves a loss of money, Terry Hicks is oblivious.”

  “True. I’ll smooth things over tomorrow morning.”

  He nods and smiles at me. “I think she’s just eager, maybe a little overeager at times. I also think she just wants to impress you.”

  “Or wants my job.” I snort loudly as I make the joke. Ev totally ignores my attempt at some fun but lifts his arm for me to snuggle into his side, forgetting last night even existed.

  Thirty-three

  Reagan

  It’s after seven thirty when I get work the next day, and I hate getting in after seven. As I reach my office, I look through the glass and see Margie is already here and on the phone. I remembered mine and Everett’s conversation and try to stay calm. Eager, that’s what she is. Pushing the frown from my face, I paste on a smile for appearance sakes.

  I lift my hand in a wave when she looks up and smiles at me. Leaving her to her job for a minute, I go into my office, drop my bag, and turn on my computer. While I wait for it to load, I go into Margie’s part of the office.

  “Yes, of course. Yes, I’ll let her know that too. Of course.” Listening to the one-sided conversation makes me frown. I wonder who she’s talking to. “Yes. Thank you, Mr. Hicks, that’s so nice of you.” She pauses for a second and smiles, nodding her head. “I’ll pass the message on. Bye. You have a good day.”

  Margie places the receiver down and turns to me. “He is such a lovely man, don’t you think so, Rae?”

  Rae? What the fuck? There’s only one person that calls me that.

  I suck in a ragged breath and compose myself, ignoring her attempt at conversation. It’s way too early to get into this right now. “Good morning, Margie. Could I get some coffee, please?”

  “Oh, yes, of course.”

  I charge back into my office shutting the door with a little too much force. I go to my computer and start working through emails, flagging to get back to soon. I pull up the investment reports, but it just looks like a bunch of muddled numbers.

  Margie comes into the office with coffee and I’ve never felt so grateful. I can’t focus on numbers until I’ve had my coffee. She places the mug in front of me and hung around.

  “Take a seat, Margie.” She sits, and I take my first sip of coffee. “So, is everything okay?”

  “Good, thank you.”

  I stare at her, but I get nothing. “Do you have a message for me?”

  “Message?”

  “Yes, Margie, a message.” I sigh. “You were on the phone with Mr. Hicks when I arrived this morning and you said you’d pass the message on…”

  It takes her a few seconds to remember. “Oh,
of course. Mr. Hicks said he wanted you to call him as soon as you had time.”

  My eyes shut on another sigh and I wonder if this has anything to do with Saturday night. I guess I’ll find out soon enough.

  “It sounded urgent,” Margie adds.

  “But not so urgent that you almost forgot to tell me?”

  “I meant to tell you as soon as you walked in, but you seemed a little stressed, and I knew you’d want your coffee.”

  I nod my head, “I had to ask for coffee, Margie. So it wasn’t that at all.” I stare at her for a beat, “please don’t lie to me Margie, I don’t like it. You know your job and I expect you to do it. Messages get passed on no matter what…”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Fine. Let’s get back to work, shall we?”

  “Yeah, I better get going. I have to schedule that appointment for him with Everett.”

  “Mr. Brooks, you mean?” I correct her through gritted teeth. If my jaw tightens any more, I swear one of my fucking teeth will crack.

  “Sorry?”

  My patience is already wearing thin and it’s not even eight thirty yet. “It’s Mr. Brooks, not Everett. Now yes, you should do what you promised and schedule that appointment for Mr. Hicks.”

  “Yes, Ms. Quinn.” She nods and goes back into her own office.

  I drink my coffee and I force myself to go back to the investment summary. I knew today was going to be a long day. At this point, I don’t even think coffee can help me.

  When I eventually spoke with Terry, it wasn’t anything urgent after all. In fact, he told me it could’ve waited until tomorrow when we had our conference call. Why would Margie tell me it was urgent if it wasn’t?

  My cell goes off with a message alert, distracting me from the mundane numbers that I still can’t concentrate on. I take it out of my purse and see a message from Ruby: So… did you find me a husband?