Our Broken Pieces - M.E. Clayton Page 0,66

voice hit my ears. “Mr. Evans,” she sing-songed. “How have you been?”

I only knew Reagan professionally, but she’s been at CI long enough and has worked on a couple of joint projects of ours, that we’ve chatted before. “Ms. Contreras,” I acknowledged.

She smiled. “I’ve told you before, Mr. Evans. Please, feel free to call me Reagan.”

Nah. Don’t think so.

While I didn’t have an issue with the woman, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that she wanted to bounce on Lorcan’s dick. Anytime he was near, she went full seductress mode. I didn’t need to get pulled into that bullshit, even if Lorcan didn’t fuck his employees. Ever.

Before I could comment, she continued, “Are you looking for Mystic?”

“As a matter of fact, I am,” I replied. “She’s working on a joint project with one of my project assistants, David Booker.”

Reagan tittered-legit tittered-and I wondered how Lorcan could stand it. “Oh, yeah…them two,” she murmured, grinning like a snake.

I arched a brow. “Them two?”

She slapped a hand in the air, as if the topic were of no consequence. “Yeah,” she giggled, annoying the shit out of me. “I think there’s love in the air.”

My entire body froze with her implication. My blood ran cold, and my mind was saying there was no way that Reagan just said what she said. “What?”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, no, no,” she stammered. “I’m sure the project will come off perfectly, Mr. Evans. It’s just…”

“It’s just what?” Did this woman know I will fucking kill her?

“Well…I mean…” She looked around to ensure no one else could hear before she continued. “I…well, I almost went to Mr. Cavanaugh to discuss their professionalism. It was like instant attraction or something. From day one, they’ve been giddy and all over each other. I just…well…you know, right?”

A part of me told me she was lying, but to what end? I knew she was pissed about being demoted and that she didn’t like Mystic, but Reagan didn’t know about me and Mystic. What did she get out of telling me Mystic was messing around with David? Was she trying to sabotage her professionally, or was she telling the truth? Reagan had to know it wouldn’t end well for her if it came out that she was lying and besmirching Mystic and David’s professional reputations.

And then, from that dark place where doubt and resentment still lingered, a voice echoed out reminding me that Mystic hadn’t jumped at the chance to marry me last night. Instead, she had voiced her concerns and doubts, trying to by some time.

“Do you know where they are now?”

Reagan’s smile was slick with insinuation. “They never work in her office when he stops by,” she informed me. “They have a small, private room that’s assigned for just them.”

It took everything in me not to show every ounce of rage I was feeling. “Where is it?”

“I can walk you,” she offered, and I was too enraged to decline. Getting to Mystic was more important than distancing myself from Reagan Contreras.

She led me down a corridor of small meeting rooms that were nowhere near the size of CI’s conference rooms until we stopped in front of a door that was decorated with a placard that read ‘Baltic Room’.

Reagan turned towards me. “Here we are,” she said. “I’d knock first if I were you.” She threw me a wink and walked away as I stood there wondering what the fuck.

I didn’t knock.

When I walked in, I saw Mystic sitting next to David at a small utility table, looking over blueprints of some sort. The sound of the door opening had both of them turning my way.

David smiled, but Mystic looked confused. “Ga-Mr. Evans?”

I shut the door behind me and walked deeper into the room. David was oblivious to the tension, but Mystic wasn’t. “Oh, hey, there, Mr. Evans,” he said, greeting me.

Mystic was driving me crazy and that was the only explanation for what I did next. “You want to tell me why my girlfriend was practically sitting on your lap when I walked in?” I snapped.

David’s eyes widened in shock, while Mystic let out a horrified gasp. “Gage!”

I shot my gaze toward hers. “What?”

“Are you insane?!” she screeched.

David jumped up from his chair and stepped away from her. “Uh, Mr. Evans…I, uhm, that’s not what-”

Mystic stood up next. “Have you lost your mind?!”

“Yes!” I roared. “Now tell me why the fuck you’re all cozied up with him in a private fucking room!”

Mystic’s eyes were the size of platters. “I’m not