I worked too damn hard to land anywhere other than on top.
No woman will ever bring me to my knees.
Not ever-fucking-again.
Chapter 17
Mystic~
Two months at Cavanaugh Industries and I was already looped into the politics of office-life. I was also caught up in some stupid shit that could cost me my job, but the tradeoff was worth it. Or it would be worth it if I ever got my foot in the door to something bigger.
Mean Girl, Reagan Contreras ended up being my direct report, because I was lucky like that. She wasn’t my boss, per se, that title belonged to Lacey Stevens, but Reagan had more seniority on me and worked in one of the offices and not in a cubicle.
After my first month at CI, Reagan had delegated a project to me, and it wasn’t until I was three projects in that I realized she was pawning her work off on me while she did...well, I didn’t know what the hell she did, but it wasn’t her work.
At first, I had considered going to Lacey about it, but I quickly nixed that idea. While Reagan was using me to do her work, I had decided to use her to gain enough experience to move up, whether here at CI or somewhere else, I didn’t care. I just knew I didn’t want to do clerk work forever. I needed a challenge, and this was giving me that opportunity.
Sure, I knew there was a risk of us getting in trouble over it, but I obviously must have been doing a good job for Reagan to continue to give me her projects to complete. She disguised the work as ‘mentoring’ and ‘team building’ but since I was often the only fool left in the building until ten most nights, there was no team involved in any of this.
And while I disliked Reagan immensely, I wasn’t about to squander away this opportunity out of spite. Cut, nose, face, and all that jazz, you know.
There was also the fact that, while Reagan didn’t know it, I had authored all the projects with my name and employee number, and had hidden them in the documents, so that if this ever came out, she couldn’t claim my work as her own.
My desk phone rang, and I answered, “Cavanaugh Industries, Mystic Anderson speaking.”
“Hey, chick. What’s the haps?”
I smiled as I would recognize that voice anywhere. “Hey, Rowan.”
Rowan Lewis was my best friend and the person who knew me best. We met our junior year in college when our Econ Professor, Professor Neilson, had told me his class wasn’t for weak people. Rowan had jumped to my defense and, later, jumped Professor Neilson’s bones. Our friendship had been forged from the passion of the young and we’ve been best friends ever since.
“Look, I’m calling because I have to go out of town for a stupid audit, and so, I have to cancel Friday,” she mumbled miserably. Rowan was a corporate auditor and she was a vicious one at that. “I also promised Grayson lunch when I get back.” Grayson was her older brother, and the best thing since sliced bread. Not to mention, the man was easy on the eyes. If I didn’t love him like a brother, I’d probably stalk him like a lunatic.
“That’s fine,” I replied. “MG handed off another project of hers, so I’m probably going to sleep here all week anyway. That includes Friday, too.”
“Ugh,” she breathed out. “I know this will all help you in the long run, but I hate knowing that bitch is making you do her work under her sly, slick, and wicked ways. How the hell do you get her work and your work done, anyhow?” Rowan knew MG stood for Mean Girl and that was Reagan.
I snorted. “I’m here until ten at night almost all week long,” I admitted.
“Christ, Mystic, you’re going to end up working yourself sick,” she complained lovingly
I didn’t think it was quite that dramatic. Work myself into sleeping twelve hours Sunday, maybe, but not sick. “Well, it’s not like I have someone waiting at home for me, Row,” I joked. “Work is the only action I’m getting these days.”
Rowan huffed. “That’s because you’re too damn picky, Mystic,” she said, and not for the first time. “There are so many nice guys out there that would love to date you.”
I rolled my eyes, even though she couldn’t see me through the phone. “Guys never want to date the chubby girl, Row.”
“You’re not chubby,” she automatically