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Our Broken Pieces (The Pieces Series Book 1)

Page 10

by M. E. Clayton


  Mr. Cavanaugh put his hand up to stop her, and it was clear he knew she was lying to him. “Is it your position, then, that Ms. Anderson came to you and you handed her your accounts in an attempt to mentor her?”

  Reagan’s face relaxed and I could tell she thought he was buying her bullshit. “Yes, Sir. Exactly.”

  “Then why don’t any of your low-level accounts have her name on them, giving her assisted credit?” Her jaw clenched at his use of the words low-level, and she wasn’t doing a great job of schooling her facial features. She knew she was in deep shit.

  We were in deep shit.

  “Uhm…”

  “See, Ms. Contreras, I don’t have a problem with mentoring or team building,” he explained in a calming voice I knew was a farce. This man was pissed. He was taking it as a personal affront that we did something behind his back. Even if the accounts were handled expertly, we lied. We were sneaky about what we were doing, and Mr. Cavanaugh didn’t look like the kind of man who took kindly to being hoodwinked. “My issue is when work-excellent work-is done by one employee, yet, taken credit by another. And that’s exactly what the case seems to be in this instance.” He lifted a raven brow. “Unless you can, indeed, explain to me why Ms. Anderson’s name was left off the final presented project details.”

  Reagan looked panicked and Lacey wasn’t offering up any help. I didn’t know Lacey well, but I was pretty sure Lacey was going to save herself here. And she was doing so, by waiting everyone out, to see who would be in less trouble; me or Reagan.

  However, as much as I despised Reagan, and Lacey was turning out to be a coward, I couldn’t sit by and not take responsibility for my part in this shitshow. “Mr. Cavanaugh, while it is obvious Reagan and I didn’t exactly follow procedure, I benefited from this...uh, arrangement every bit as she did. Reagan may have received all the credit, but I gained a lot of experience doing her-uh, working with her.”

  I refused to be a coward.

  I refused to be intimidated.

  I already did that once before, and my life was one that lacked happiness because of it.

  His silver gaze was sharp, and I could tell he was doing his best to mask his anger, but he wasn’t being successful. He didn’t care about our explanations. We were here, so he could let us know we were found out. We were here, so he could remind us who was boss at Cavanaugh Industries. We were here to be put back in our place.

  “Was that an admission to breaking Cavanaugh Industries employee policy, Ms. Anderson?” he asked, sure that it wasn’t an admission, but still trying to make his point.

  “Yes,” I admitted, taking away some of his power.

  But before he could comment, Reagan started saving herself, like I knew she would. “Mr. Cavanaugh, Sir, let me assure you that Mystic does not speak for me. She may have known she was breaking policy, but I assure you I wasn’t aware-” Mr. Cavanaugh’s fist came down on the table, shutting Reagan the hell up, but his eyes never mine. Grey eyes clashed with brown.

  After a heartbeat of silence, he turned towards Reagan and pointed out her stupidity, once again. “Are you telling me that an employee of only two months knows Cavanaugh Industries policies better than an employee who has been with us for years, Ms. Contreras? Are you suggesting that Ms. Anderson knew enough to know that what you two were doing was against policy, but you didn’t?”

  “Uh...I...well…” Reagan was drowning, and she looked over at Lacey for a life jacket to be thrown her way, but Lacey was only saving Lacey. Once it was clear to Reagan that Lacey wasn’t going to help her, she turned back towards Mr. Cavanaugh. “I…”

  Once again, I overstepped, and jump from the frying pan into the fire. I wasn’t sure why I was being insistent, only that I wanted to be the type of person who did the right thing, regardless of how much I disliked Reagan. “Mr. Cavanaugh, I didn’t have to agree to the extra workload,” I pointed out. “I chose to take on the extra work. I think it’s fair to say that we, both, used poor judgement equally.”

  His resolve snapped.

  He snapped, and that’s when I realized I wasn’t defending myself, so much as challenging him in front of others. “I didn’t ask you, Ms. Anderson,” he snapped, confirming that I was pissing him off just as much as Reagan was. “Or do you not only do Ms. Contreras’ work but speak for her as well? Because I’m asking her to explain the situation, not you.”

  “My apolo-”

  “Get out,” he snarled at Lacey and Reagan. “Get out. The both of you.” What. The. Hell? “Since Ms. Anderson believes she has all the answers, I don’t need either of you in the room any longer.”

  Holy. Shit.

  I sat silently as Reagan stood and Lacey gathered her stuff. Neither woman spared me a second glace as they made their way out of the conference room.

  With the final click of the door to the conference room being closed, Mr. Cavanaugh leaned towards me and asked, “Now, would you like to explain to me why you feel Cavanaugh Industries rules don’t apply to you, Ms. Anderson?”

  I did my best not to stumble on my words. However, since the odds were pretty high that I was going to get fired, there was no sense in lying. “I don’t believe the rules don’t apply to me, Mr. Cavanaugh,” I denied.

  He arched a brow and leaned back in his chair. “Really?”

  “Really,” I insisted. “That’s why, when you fire me, I’m going to walk out of here with my head held high. I take responsibility for breaking procedure, and there’s no excuse. There’s a reason, but no excuse.”

  “And the reason?”

  “I don’t want to be a file clerk for the rest of my life. I have a business degree and my talent and knowledge is wasted by filing paperwork and answering phones. I took advantage of Reagan’s manipulative personality and I’m not sorry for it.” I shrugged a shoulder. “I’m sorry I’ll be getting fired, but I don’t regret the experience I gained.”

  Mr. Cavanaugh cocked his head and he regarded me silently for what seemed like eons. Just when he was about to speak, the conference room door opened, and a female voice said, “I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr. Cavanaugh, but Mr. Evans is here and would like to speak with you.” Even though there were a million Mr. Evans in the world, my heart skipped a beat at hearing that name.

  It was silly, after all this time, but I couldn’t help it. I suspected Gage’s name will always garner a reaction out of me, no matter how much time has passed.

  “Thank you, Pat-” Mr. Cavanaugh stopped mid-sentence and the look on his face became positively calculating. “You know, Patty, please show Mr. Evans in. Ms. Anderson is going to take point on a joint project between CI and SFH.”

  My eyes widened as Patty shut the door and Mr. Cavanaugh addressed me, “You think you’re so smart, Ms. Anderson? You think you have what it takes? Well, this is your one chance to prove it.”

  Before I could ask him if he were crazy, the door to the conference room opened, and a voice I would recognize on my death bed said, “Lorcan, thanks for making the time.”

  I sat frozen as my boss stood up, a smile in his voice. “Gage.”

  I stared at my lap as the men shook hands and prayed this wasn’t happening. I had known Gage had gone onto to do great things with his finance company. There was no way to work in the industry and not have heard of Gage Evans, but I had worked very hard to avoid anything that was Gage Evans related. I had avoided social medias, anything financial related, and just damn near everything world news.

  And, now, he was here.

  “Gage, let me introduce you to the woman who is going to work on the Darwin project with your team,” Mr. Cavanaugh said, and I knew my time was up.

  I wiped my hands on my skirt and stood up to face Gage Evans, after leaving him ten years ago.

  The second my face lifted to his, I knew this was a mistake.

  Hate never looked so beautiful.

  Chapter 22

  Gage~

  At first, I thought this had to be a joke. But then I remembered that,
while Lorcan knew all about Mystic and the havoc she had caused me, I had never told him her name. He knew I had been broken by the female species at a young age, but I had. Never. Told. Him. Her. Name. She had been just ‘that girl’ because I had hated saying her name. I still did.

  I stood there, fuming, among a million other emotions, as Lorcan did the introductions.

  “Gage Evans, I’d like you to meet Mystic Anderson,” he said, completely unaware of the fire shooting out of my eyes and the wariness in her still fucking beautiful brown eyes. “Ms. Anderson, I’d like you to meet Gage Evans of Stymic Financial Holdings.”

  Neither of us spoked. Not sure why Mystic was mute, but I kept my mouth shut and my hand from stretching out in a handshake just to torture her. It was that or grab her by her fucking hair and drag her out of the building, demanding answers and handing over a punishment that spanned ten fucking years.

  Lorcan didn’t make it to where he was by being a stupid man, so when neither of us made a move to shake hands, he immediately picked up on the awkwardness. He glanced at Mystic and then me, and since we were behind closed doors, he felt comfortable shedding his professionalism.

  Looking at me, he said, “What the hell’s going on?”

  My lip curled up into a snarl of its own accord. “We’ve met,” I bit out. “As a matter of fact, we went to high school together.”

  Two seconds was all it took for Lorcan to connect the dots, and not that he owed me an explanation, but he said, “I didn’t know, man.”

  Mystic stood there, pale and trembling, but I didn’t give a fuck. She hadn’t cared how bailing on me, all those years ago, had made me feel, so I couldn’t give two fucks if she were uncomfortable now. But most of all, I hated that she had aged well. I was bitter enough to have hoped that she had been run into the ground, but of course, no such luck. Mystic was still as fucking beautiful as ever. Worse? Those curves I had abused when we were kids matured right along with the rest of her, and she looked like a goddamn hourglass in her professional blouse and skirt.

  A fucking skirt I wanted to rip off her at the same time as I wanted to wrap my hands around her neck and watch her life fade out right before my eyes.

  I watched as Mystic turned to Lorcan and said, “It’s possible Mr. Evans might prefer to work with someone else, Mr. Cavanaugh. Perhaps there’s another project you can put me on to…uh, showcase my abilities.” Mystic didn’t know that I knew why she was here, so she was trying to exercise as much professionalism as she could, even though Lorcan and I were past that part.

  He looked over at me, looking for permission for something, and without knowing what it was, I gave it to him. Lorcan was my best friend, and no matter how much I hated Mystic and what she had done to me, I wasn’t going to undermine Lorcan in front of one of his employees.

  “Ms. Anderson, I think working with Gage is exactly the perfect scenario to show me what you’re capable of. It’ll prove just how professional your capabilities are. If you can work with Gage, despite your history together, well, then, I suspect you would hold up to corporate pressure remarkably.”

  Her eyes widened, catching onto Lorcan’s words about our past. That was my cue to finally speak to her. “Yes, Ms. Anderson,” I spewed venomously. “Let’s see if you can work with your boss’ business associate and turn out a successful project. I mean, I know your word is shit, but seems as if Lorcan here still has hope for you.”

  The flush of her embarrassment covered her face completely. She chose to ignore me and face Lorcan instead. “Mr. Cavanaugh-”

  He put his hand up, interrupting her. “Let me stop you right there, Ms. Anderson,” he said. “I assigned you this project even before I knew you were the girl who fucked over my best friend.” Mystic gasped and I smirked. “And, quite frankly, if he told me to toss your ass out on the street, I would. Especially, since I have cause after that shit you and Ms. Contreras pulled. But I am giving you a chance to prove yourself with this joint project, regardless of what’s between you and Gage. If you don’t think you can do this, tell me, and you can start your week off by looking for a new job.”

  Mystic looked livid and it was a good look on her. I wished I hadn’t noticed, but I did. Hell, I couldn’t stop fucking looking at her. Still ignoring me, she asked, “And if Mr. Evans decides he doesn’t want to work on this project with me after all?”

  I spoke before Lorcan could answer. “I’m not the one who has a history of being a liar and a coward, Ms. Anderson,” I bit out. “If I give my word on something, I see it through. To the fucking end.” I wasn’t just talking about the project and she knew it.

  “Look, that’s the deal,” Lorcan told her. “Take it or leave it, I don’t care. You have five seconds to decide.”

  I could see the panic flash in Mystic’s eyes. I knew nothing about her these days, but everyone needed to work. My assumption was that she couldn’t afford to lose this job any more than the next guy. However, as much as I wanted to torture her-and make no mistake, my dick twitched with the idea that I held her professional fate in my hands-I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t kill her by the time this project was presented. The hell I’d pawn it off to an associate now.

  “Uh, of course, Mr. Cavanaugh,” she replied, a tremor in her voice. “It’s not a problem.”

  Liar.

  Lorcan looked over at me. “Are you good with this?”

  “If she can do the job, it’s not a problem,” I told him. “If she proves to be dumber than a box of rocks, then we’ll have to revisit.”

  And just when I thought Mystic was going to just stand there and continue to take the verbal abuse, she surprised me. “Let’s get one thing straight, Mr. Evans,” she snapped. “Our past is just that-the past. And while I am going to do my best with this project, regardless, I will not tolerate your rudeness or disrespect.”

  She had nerve.

  This woman had broken me into a million motherfucking pieces when she had walked away from me without a word. How fucking dare she act the victim.

  “Oh, make no mistake, Ms. Anderson,” I seethed, not giving a fuck that Lorcan was standing in the room, his ears open to this shitstorm. “I know exactly what you do and don’t tolerate.”

  “Did,” she snapped. “What I did tolerate. You don’t know anything about the woman I am today.”

  “And whose fucking fault is that?” I snarled, finally foregoing any pretense at professionalism.

  “Okay,” Lorcan said, interrupting. “I’m going to step out and give you two a few moments to hash your shit out.” He looked at Mystic. “However, it’s best that you keep in mind that whatever leeway Gage grants you doesn’t necessarily mean I will grant you the same. At the end of the day, Gage is a business associate as well as my friend, Ms. Anderson. I expect you to know where the line is and not to cross it.” He didn’t give Mystic a chance to respond to his thinly veiled threat before turning and walking out of the conference room.

  As soon as the door shut and the sound of the door locking echoed around us, Mystic let loose on me. “How dare you?” she cried, her voice full of fury. “This is my job, Gage. I do not appreciate you airing our dirty laundry in front of my boss. Especially, since it’s old dirty laundry.”

  I jammed my fists into my pockets because I didn’t trust myself with her. I haven’t laid eyes on this woman in years, and the last time I did, I stood outside her classroom as she told me she loved me and would see me later.

  Later turned out to be now.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?!” I roared, not caring who was on the other side of the conference room. “You got a lot of fucking nerve, Mystic.”

  “I got nerve?” she shot back. “Why couldn’t you have just shaken my hand and acted professional? Why did you have to let my boss in on our old drama?”

  I couldn’t take it anymore.

  I stepped to her and stared down into her perfect fucking face. “Because had I touched you, after what you did to me, I would have probably beaten you to fucking deat
h, Mystic.”

  I was serious.

  And Mystic’s eyes widened because she knew I was.

  Chapter 23

  Mystic~

  I was feeling too many things at once, and I felt like my skin was going to rip open with everything that was trying to break free.

  Yeah, I was the one who left, but Gage hadn’t waited not even two weeks before blocking me completely from his life.

  Two measly weeks.

  He might not have been able find me, but he had killed us when he had made sure I could no longer find him. He hadn’t even given me a chance to explain or had come looking for me. He let me go, and now he was acting like the victim. Ten years later, when it didn’t even matter anymore.

  The horrible part was that he looked every bit as gorgeous as he had when we were kids. The same chocolate colored hair and stormy blue eyes. His face was sharper, and he looked lethal as sin. He also filled out a suit like nobody’s business, and he towered over me.

  As he was doing now.

  And, even though, it made me look like a coward, I took a step back. I couldn’t be so close to him when my mind and emotions were a jumbled mess. Gage was the heroin addiction I had kicked, but that didn’t mean I was strong enough to be near the temptation.

  Of course, he hated me, so there was that.

  I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the subject at hand. Yes, it was a shock to my system to see Gage after all these years, but I needed this job, and I was not going to play games with my livelihood. I’ve already lost so much, I wasn’t about to lose what very little I had left. “Be straight with me, Gage,” I said. “Are you going to give me a real chance on this project, or are you going to string this along just so you can be a dick?”

  His lip curled and I was flooded with unwelcomed memories of our past. I was also flooded with reminders of how I haven’t been able to make the same connection with anyone else in all these years. My body was screaming at me to let him pounce, but my sanity was reminding me that my body was stupid and the rest of me wasn’t suicidal.

 

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