Our Broken Pieces

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, had ended up being my direct report because I was lucky like that. She wasn't my boss per se, because 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 hadn't been until I'd been three projects in that I realized that 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 then 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 that I didn't want to do clerk work forever. I needed a challenge, and this was giving me that opportunity.

Sure, I knew that 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. Oh, 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. Now, while I disliked Reagan immensely, I wasn't about to squander 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 automatically 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 that knew me best. We'd met our junior year in college when our econ professor, Professor Neilson, had told me that his class wasn't for weak people. Rowan had jumped to my defense, then later, had jumped Professor Neilson's bones. Our friendship had been forged from the passion of the young, and we'd 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 that 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 bemoaned. "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 that MG stood for Mean Girl, and that I'd meant Reagan.

"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."

"That's because you're too damn picky, Mystic," she retorted, 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 disputed. "You're curvy, and there are plenty of grown men who appreciate curves. We're not in college anymore, Mys. Mature guys look beyond being a size two."

Of course, I couldn't tell her the real reason that I didn't want to date. The simple fact was that what I needed from a man was unhealthy, and I was too scared to ever voice that need to another partner ever again. It was a sick balance between knowing that I would never want to endure the horrors of being raped, but also wishing that I could find a man that could read my mind enough to know when 'no' really meant 'yes'. Granted, deep down, even if I could manage that balancing act, Gage Evans had already destroyed any part of me that wanted to try again.

Nonetheless, I still wanted to be taken in the worst way. However, I didn't trust myself or anyone else anymore in that regard. No matter how much I wanted to be possessed by a man that would stop at nothing to have me, I'd thought that I'd had that in Gage and being proven wrong had very nearly destroyed me. Pieces of me were still missing, ten years later.

"Well, chubby or not," I replied, returning to our conversation, "I'm just not up for the song and dance of a first date."

"Screw a first date then," Rowan laughed. "Just go out and get laid, if nothing else, Mys. I mean, sometimes a girl has just got to have her needs met. Preferably, all night long."

I laughed. "Yeah, Rowan, I'll get right on that."

"You need to get on something," she retorted. "Preferably something with eight inches.

Now she was really reaching. "Eight inches is a rather lofty goal there, Row."

"Not even," she argued. "Ten inches is a lofty goal. Eight inches is reasonable."

I shook my head.

This girl.

"Okay, I'm done with this conversation," I announced. "I am not going to discuss penis sizes with you while I'm at work. And for the record, eight inches is way more than average."

"Riiiiight," she chuckled. "We'll table this for when I get back, and then we can have a girls' night. Don't forget to bring a ruler."

I laughed. "Have a safe trip, Row."

"I will," she said, a smile in her voice. "Love you, Mystic."

"Love you, too."

Now, while I didn't like lying to Rowan, my drought was a lot longer than she believed. Over the years, I'd given her stories of one-night stands that never happened, but it was because I knew that she'd flip if she knew the truth. If she knew that it'd been close to six years since I'd had sex, she'd insist on knowing why, and for the most part, she'd be right to be concerned. Even chubby girls could find sex if a man lowered his expectations a bit. Everyone knew that it was easier for women to get laid than men, no matter what the girl looked like. Men were suckers for pussy. Especially, the kind that came without strings or next day phone calls.

Plus, while I missed sex, I didn't want to fake it. I didn't want to meet that moment of disappointment when foreplay morphed into sex. I didn't want to have to pretend to cum or even enjoy it. Sure, there were rumored sex clubs, and I could always look into one of the million dating sites on the internet, but I didn't want something that was orchestrated. I wanted the real deal because I knew what the real deal felt like.

I wanted unleashed, and I wanted it to be genuine. I didn't want a guy playing a part, as if my sexual desires were a fantasy to be played out. The dark needs in my soul were not part of a fantasy. They weren't roleplaying opportunities. They went beyond spicing up the bedroom.

My desires were one of the realest things about me, and as much as I hated to admit it, they weren't something that I thought I'd ever get over. At least, not without the help of a real professional or medication. I also knew that I'd never get over Gage Evans, no matter how hard I'd tried over the years.

I looked down at my desk at Reagan's latest project, then decided to go back to what I could actually control. This experience would eventually help me get to where I wanted to go, and if my journey was taken alone, so be it.

At least I wouldn't be damaging anyone else.