Chapter Twenty-Two
Everett
I was in the middle of a huge project when my cell phone buzzed on my desk. I looked down, irritated over whoever was interrupting me at the moment.
Then I grabbed the phone with the biggest, stupid grin on my face.
"Hey," I said, careful to keep my voice low. Phone conversations tended to carry in this office, with everything getting somehow quieter so everyone could eavesdrop.
"Hi, am I bothering you?" Brynn asked.
I shook my head. Like she could see it. "Not at all." You could never bother me. "What's going on?"
"I have a favor to ask."
I lowered my voice even further. "Whatever you want Brynn. You know that. You just have to ask."
She let out a breathless little laugh. "Stop it."
"What, am I making you..."
"Remember? Yeah." I could hear the little gasp in her voice and was proud as shit that I was the one who put it there. She dropped her voice too. "I liked what you did the other night. From behind?"
I swallowed. "I liked that too."
"So this is a lot to ask..." she hedged.
"Brynn," I warned her. "Say what you want."
She heaved a giant sigh. "Remember Autumn Melton?"
I leaned back in my chair. "Of course."
"Well, she's a good friend of mine."
"I know that Brynn."
"You do? How?"
"Small town," I reminded her.
She laughed. "Okay fair enough, so you know she's Autumn Melton-Granger now?"
"Yes, of course."
"Well she wants me to come over," she exhaled in a rush of breath, "and she and Cole just got married and I feel like a third wheel and I was wondering if you could maybe..."
"Come with you?" I smiled.
"Um. Yeah." She waited a beat. "I know it's a lot to ask what with you guys dating a while back..."
"Brynn that was ages ago."
"It really wasn't," she pointed out.
I grinned. "Well it feels like it was. Yes, of course, I'd love to come with you."
"Really?"
She sounded so fucking delighted.
I was fucking delighted too. "Yeah really. When is this dinner happening?"
"Friday?"
"What time? I'll pick you up."
"Seven?"
"That sounds fine. I'll see you then."
"Thanks Rett," she said sincerely.
So many words leaped to my lips at once, crowding and jostling each other that I lost the ability to speak for a moment. When I finally recovered it, the only thing I could say was, "You're welcome."
It wasn't until I hung up that I realized she'd made no cracks about using me, no jokes about how useful I was to have around. A flush of triumph spread from my hairline all the way down to my neck.
I was so wrapped up in my jubilation that I didn't even hear Josh until he was right at my door. "Taking personal calls at work, McCabe?" he called out, louder than he needed to, as he folded his arms and leaned in my doorway. "Wouldn't have figured you as somebody to break company policy like that."
"What the fuck do you want, Withers?" I exploded. I was not in the mood for this. Not right now. Not after Brynn...
"Whoa man, calm down!" he said, holding up his hands like he was trying to ward off a blow. "I'm just playing with you. Learn to take a joke."
On any other day, I would have chuckled and played along. But today was not one of them. "I can take a joke just fine when it's actually funny," I told him.
From the flicker of hesitation that passed across his face I could tell I was unnerving him. But rather than get the hint, he cracked a big old Jack o'lantern smile. "Who was she?"
"Who?"
"The chick? The one you were gettin' all goopey with?" His eyes widened. "Was it the blonde chick from the country club? Shit man, I have to say my belated thanks to you for bringing her. I've never seen a more perfect rack in all my days. You seen those tits yet, McCabe? You get your face down in there and just motorboat the shit out of... fuck!"
His speech was interrupted by a loud squawk and I couldn't figure out why he was yelping like that until I looked down and saw that I had him by the shirt collar.
"What the fuck, McCabe?"
We were right in my doorway, which opened out into a sea of cubicles. Heads were popping up over the walls like prairie dogs peeking out of their holes. People were seeing me losing my cool like this, the exact opposite of the buttoned-up Boy Scout they knew me to be.
And I didn't give a fuck.
"Don't," I told Withers, keeping my voice low. "Don't you ever talk about Brynn that way. Ever."
"Jesus," he hissed. I let go of his collar — slowly — and he let out a nervous cough. "Fucking hell McCabe."
"And another thing," I heard myself say, suddenly on a roll. "I'm not your frat brother. We're fucking co-workers and that's it. You bring me your project when you're done with your end of it, and that's it. No more hanging around my office talking about tits like some goddamned middle schooler. Grow the fuck up, Withers."
He blinked rapidly. "Yeah man," he said soothingly, holding up his hands in front of him. "Sure. Whatever you say."
"You're goddamned right." And with that I turned back into my office and for the first time since I started working here years ago, I shut my goddamned door.