Our Broken Pieces - M.E. Clayton Page 0,33
I wasn’t going to let this woman intimidate me. I glanced around to make sure no one was paying us any attention before saying, “I’ve never even met Lacey,” I told her. “The only person I talk to, whenever I do get a chance to talk to someone, is Sadie. And I haven’t told her anything about doing your work.”
Reagan’s eyes widened at me calling her out, but she wasn’t going to cower. People like her never did. “No one forced you to help out,” she spat.
“Help out?” This viper had nerve. “You and I both know I’m doing your grunt work and the projects you find boring, Reagan,” I pointed out. “Just because I’m using you to get experience doesn’t mean I don’t know that you’re using me, period. So, before you try to insult my intelligence any further, I suggest you take your guilty conscience back to your office and wait it out. You have no idea what that meeting is about. Neither do I.”
She looked so pissed, I feared she was going to pop a blood vessel. “Listen up, little girl, I’ve been here a lot longer than you have. Don’t think to start playing a game you can’t win.”
If I didn’t finish this up soon, someone was bound to catch wind of the animosity. “And don’t presume to know that I don’t know how to play the game, Reagan,” I shot back. “This isn’t my first job and you are not the first snake I’ve come across.”
Reagan gasped and I knew it was the snake comment. Women as beautiful looking as Reagan weren’t used to those kinds of adjectives. “If you cross me, you’ll regret it, Mystic. And if you think CI will pick your side over mine, you are sorely mistaken,” she threatened.
I sat back down, dismissing her. “We’ll see,” I replied, my voice strong. Even if all that were true, there’s no way I’d let Reagan know I cared. Weakness was not something I was about to show in front of this horrible woman.
In front of anyone.
She stormed off and I quickly reopened the email Lacey had sent. There weren’t any other recipients on my email which meant Reagan was lying. I scanned the rest of my emails to see if I was sent another one where I was copied, but I didn’t find anything. There was no email and that could only mean someone had given Reagan a heads up about the nature of the meeting.
Well, hell.
The rest of the afternoon, I had done my best to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as four o’clock came inching closer and closer. It wasn’t that I was worried I’d end up homeless or anything like that, but this job paid well, and I enjoyed it, Reagan aside. I didn’t want to have to look for another job. Especially, if I got fired for falsification or something equally unappealing.
Five minutes to four, Lacey Stevens and Reagan approached my cubicle as Lacey decided against pleasantries. “Mystic, if you and Reagan will follow me,” she instructed, no ‘please’ or anything.
I followed behind her and Reagan with my back straight and my head held high. There was no way I was going to give off scared, little rabbit vibes. If I had any hope of saving my job, I had to prove I was strong enough to fight for it. Besides, I knew what I was doing when Reagan had started dumping her projects on me. I really couldn’t blame anyone else for the predicament I was in now.
But, hell, I wasn’t even sure if we were even in trouble. Who’s to say they weren’t pairing us up for an upcoming project? It was possible.
At least, it had been until I stepped into a conference room that wasn’t empty. I moved on autopilot behind Lacey and Reagan as Lacey sat in the first right side chair, and Reagan next to her. I took the second left side chair as, hands down, one of the most gorgeous men I have ever set eyes on sat at the head of the conference table.
He looked like he was carved from stone as his grey eyes made direct contact with each one of us as we situated ourselves. He had hair as black as night and it made his eyes pop out like a swirling mist. I noticed his brows seemed groomed, but something told me this man did not pretty himself up. He looked like the kind