Disgruntled (7 page)

Tim coughed. Ben shuffled a shoe across in front of the
other before he answered. “Um, yeah. I thought I’d swap it
for the broken one.”
“The broken one’s fixed,” Todd said.
It was difficult to disguise his annoyance. Todd took the ice
bag from Reva’s hand and lifted away from her counter. “I
had better get home. You guys enjoy your night.” He waved
and headed toward the door. Todd chastised himself for
considering this night would end with his mouth against
Reva’s. In truth, since the first time he’d seen her getting out
of her car, that thought had been on his mind. Now, he
realized touching Reva at all might be dangerous, stupid, and
complicated. If this had happened just due to a scratch on
her arm, imagine what might happen if he’d kissed her and
she hadn’t wanted him to. Part of him wanted to protect her
as they were doing, but in all honesty, another part wanted
more than just the role of body guard. Common sense told
him all of that was idiotic to consider at all.
Reva reached out and snagged his arm as he passed. “Wait.”
She looked into his eyes and he imagined she recognized his
thoughts. Reva tiptoed to him, brushed the icepack from his
cheek, and planted her lips firmly against his. Todd darted a
look at her brothers. She pressed into him, molding those
delicious curves to him, and he felt the warmth of her skin.
His eyes closed involuntarily. She threaded her fingers into
his hair and a growing heat passed over him even with the
icepack firmly in his hand. Though he wanted to, he didn’t
dare move his fingers to clutch her skin. Todd feared it
would startle her and she’d back off. He leaned into her. She
trailed a couple more kisses across his cheek then whispered
in his ear, “I’ll make this up to you. I promise.”
You just did.
Reva pulled back and smiled up at him before letting go.
Todd stumbled to the door, tongue-tied. He had not only
been punched in the face but her kiss had sucker-punched
him as well. He reveled in the feeling of her warm lips on
his, her fingers in his hair, and the brief touch of her breasts
against his chest. The whole scenario spelled big trouble.
Complicated. Idiotic. Trouble.

“Spill, kiddo,” Tim said after Todd was gone. “First you tell
us he’s moving in, then he’s in your backyard with his hands
on you and blood trailed down your arm. Next you’re giving
him vertical CPR. What’s going on?”
“Nothing. Yet. He lives behind me and we play softball
together. That’s all.” Reva wondered if Todd still planned to
install the fountain. She wouldn’t blame him if he had
changed his mind. “Although, now he might press charges
against us for assault, thanks to both of you.”
“We didn’t assault him,” Ben denied. Reva simply raised her
brows and glanced at him. “Okay, maybe we did but he
was—”
“Making a move, asshole,” Tim said, recognizing what had
transpired. “Reva scratched herself and he had planned to
play the big hero but we went all ape-shit and ruined it. Now
the poor guy thinks we’re all a bunch of crazies. Sorry Rev.”
She shrugged. “Well, your heart was in the right place even
though your fists weren’t.”
The remainder of the week Reva struggled to shake the kiss
out of her head. Sure, she had instigated it but that was a
rash decision made to alleviate the situation. Her brothers
thought him an aggressor. They had lumped him in the same
category as Nick without thought. She imagined much of
that came from their helpless feeling at not being around
when things with Nick got nasty. There was little they could
have done anyway and Todd was nothing like her ex. She
had
considered
her
action
a
way
of
redeeming
him.
Unfortunately, it had served more to confuse her than
anything. The kiss hadn’t prompted an electrical shock like
in a novel, but more a heated need to keep the contact, as if
they had been sealed in place. Like a drum roll that needed a
cymbal crash after. Reva’s own reaction surprised her.
It had been a strange few days, so when Brent wandered into
Reva’s
office at the end of
the day on Thursday, she
anticipated nothing less than drama. She was right.
“First of all, I don’t have a problem working for a woman, if
that’s what you think,” Brent said as he dropped into the
chair opposite Reva’s desk. Funny, the guy was so positive
with the other staff yet the scowl that had ingrained itself in
his features was the only expression she had seen in several
months. His words, or that thought, had never entered her
mind until that moment.
“Well, you certainly have my attention. Hello to you, too.”
Reva offered a smile that Brent ignored. She glanced at the
clock, four minutes to five. “Don’t shoot me if I ask you to
cut this short. My neighbor signed me up for a softball team
and we have practice in forty-five minutes.”
Another scowl, followed by a shrug. “Understood.”
Brent
had blondish-brown hair, which sported a cut so short
portions of his scalp showed through. If she hadn’t known
otherwise, she might have thought him an armed services
veteran. Six years her junior, the look added age to his
appearance, which proved deceptive to the company’s staff.
Many thought him older than she, when in truth he had only
been out of college four and a half years. “Still, do you have
a minute to talk?” he asked, not leaving her much choice.
She nodded. “I have about twenty. After that, I have to go.”
“Good. Listen, after our discussion the other day, I thought
maybe I should just lay everything on the table. Let you
know what’s going on with me.” He lifted a slightly shaky
hand to his head and scrubbed it across the back of his neck
before continuing. “I’ve had a lot of trouble with how you
speak to me on my projects. Maybe you don’t mean it bad,
but I’m not taking it well.”
“How I speak to you on your projects?” she repeated.
In the past, this type of talk would have caused Reva to
erupt. Exactly, who’s the boss here? The old Reva would
have gotten right in his face and let him have it with both
barrels. That woman would have reminded him that though
he had been disrespectful and almost combative in some of
their meetings, she had waited until they met one-on-one to
discuss his behavior and the lack of progress on his projects.
But that was the pre-Nick Reva. That woman had been
completely confident in herself, and willing to stand up
when challenged. And willing to challenge right back if
necessary. Post-Nick Reva no longer had that confidence. It
had been pummeled out of her. A quick glance to her
fingers, which she’d entwined on the desk, showed the slight
tremble she knew well. It came before the stillness.
Brent continued. “Yeah, I can’t help but feel like I’ve gotten
off on a wrong foot with you. A lot of the things I say, you
take—well, wrong. Not like I mean them.” Brent went on to
list a string of situations where he felt their discussions had
either belittled or diminished him. He then explained how he
felt in each of those situations. Many of the incidents she
remembered completely different or had no recollection of
at all. In her recollection, his comments had been tinged
with disrespect and challenge. Regardless, she thought his
words seemed to display an extreme sensitivity that signified
deeper issues.
Holy Moses, do I look like a shrink?
Reva’s
brothers would have laughed this man off the planet for his
sensitivity just as they had done her on more than one
occasion when she showed her feminine side a bit too much.
They had no concept of empathy. She realized her family
had used humor and teasing like some used therapists. In
some situations, that worked. But she learned that it could
backfire also.
“You with me?” Brent asked. His brows lifted as if he noted
her thoughts.
“Sure. I was just trying to remember the conversations
you’re referencing, as they obviously didn’t make the same
impression on me they did with you. I have to admit that
with a staff of eighteen, I sometimes lose track of every
word that’s been said, and I probably say things in haste and
assume we’re on the same page. Still, if you have concerns,
you should voice them, so let’s hear it.” She followed the
statement with a smile. It prided Reva that the main thing
she had learned from the fiasco with Nick was how to
maintain her composure, and diffuse a potential blow-up.
“That’s what I’m doing right now,” Brent answered. “So, are
we good now? Do you have questions about what I said?”
Only one, do you realize you’re lying about not having a problem
working for a woman?
She held her tongue, took four slow
breaths and kept her eyes down. This had been a residual
trait of her past relationship. She had learned to keep her
head down and not challenge Nick by meeting his eyes. She
knew Nick’s behavior well and this seemed much like it—an
effort
to
control
a
person
and
get
a
desired
result.
Challenging
it
verbally,
or
even
in
a
subtle
way,
had
sometimes led to a raised hand against her cheekbone…or
locking her into the closet so that she couldn’t storm out.
That had been in the past though. Brent wasn’t Nick, she
reminded herself.
Reva pasted a smile on her dry lips. “No questions, just a
few suggestions. First of all, I appreciate you taking the time
to come into my office and express your concerns. I have no
way of knowing there’s an issue if it’s not brought to my
attention.” She reminded herself to use inclusive words,
rather than exclusive to share the responsibility and keep it
work-focused
. “Going forward, to make sure that we meet the
project’s goals, the company’s deadline, and not have any
further miscommunication, I think we should meet more
regularly. I’ve said this before but we haven’t implemented
anything. We will meet Tuesdays from now until it becomes
unnecessary.” She glanced at her calendar on the computer
and blocked off times. “Four to five p.m. seems to be a
good time for you, so let’s do it then. Bring the project plan,
plus
any other things
that need to be discussed. We’ll
concentrate on progress and issues that may or may not have
prevented such progress. Sound good?”
“Yeah sure.” He seemed more relaxed.
In truth, Reva had let him talk way too long. The time on
her watch glared at her as if to remind her of her tardiness.
“Thanks a lot. I’m glad we had this talk,” he said.
“Sure, no problem. Brent, in the future, don’t wait so long.
If it’s bothering you, it’s best to get it out in the open rather
than let it boil.”
“I will.”
As soon as he left, she bolted for home and then softball
practice.
The thought that she had missed a key detail
during the interaction nagged her the rest of the evening.

***
Brent sauntered back to his office, pleased with himself. He
had taken the bull (or in this case bitch) by the horns and
won. She had sat there quietly as he told her exactly what he
thought of her actions and words. She’d said very little and
when he finished, she seemed reasonably pleasant about it.
She even smiled and thanked him for coming in. It was
unlike their past discussions where she had been abrupt and
unyielding.
Sure, his project was delayed but it had taken time to figure
out all the details associated with the software. It was a
pretty intricate program. He was smarter than most though,
and confident he could get things back on track very quickly.
She just needed to stop being so impatient. It was damned
irritating the way she nagged. It wasn’t her responsibility to
babysit him. He was more than capable of handling it.
His ex-wife had been like that. Constantly nagging.
When are
you coming home? Why do you always have to work late? When are
you going to get the tests done?
She wanted kids and had taken the
last of her birth control pills more than a year earlier but it
didn’t seem to “take”. Her mood disintegrated over time and
he became less and less interested in children—and sex too.
Sex for procreation wasn’t near as enjoyable as the fun kind.
He missed when her focus had been on pleasing him. As far
as working late, he didn’t. He had just tired of her questions
so he started hanging out at the club near the house rather
than
hurry
home.
He’d
even
asked
a
couple
of
his
teammates at work out for drinks sometimes just to avoid
the stark reality of disappointing her. When his wife had
finally given up and packed her bags, it had been a relief.
Reva Zamora seemed a genetic mutation of his ex-wife.
Bossy, selfish, and totally self-absorbed. All she seemed
interested in was how the project reflected on
her.
Yeah, she
always said the right words—“we” and “us”—and she talked
about
how
their
actions
reflected
on
the
team
and
department. Still, he knew that all she really cared about was
whether it made her look bad. Reva was all about…Reva.
Their
conversation
merely dampened
the
flames
of
his
animosity. It gave him hope though. Perhaps if he kept
talking to her on a regular basis, she’d get off his ass and let
him do the project the way he wanted to. He was sick of her
interfering. He didn’t need an entire team of people sticking
their noses into this. He could handle it himself. Hell, he
enjoyed
handling
it.
Plus,
it
gave
him
a
chance
to
communicate with their entire company.
People sought him out. Lately, they’d sought him out even
more than boss lady and that gave some smug satisfaction.
Back in his office, he stuffed his laptop into the bag behind
his chair. Brent slipped his fingers into his pocket and jingled
his keys to make sure he hadn’t left them in his desk and
headed downstairs. He whistled as he took the stairs to the
back exit. Taking the stairs had been one of the few attempts
to improve his health that stuck. Much of that had been
attributed to the slowness of the building’s elevators.
Was
Reva’s
newfound
patience
and
kindness
a
ruse?
Perhaps, he speculated, but regardless it gave him a little
more distance. With that, he could continue to stay on top
of the requests from the rest of the company and not worry.
Yeah, she had criticized his announcement to staff that they
were starting earlier than she wanted on the project. That
was just her way of maintaining control. Why do women
always want to have control over you?
Brent pressed the button to unlock the door to his new
truck.
New
was
subjective.
He’d
bought
it
from
the
dealership down the road but it had 20,000 miles on it when
he took possession. Still, he liked the color, a nice light
brown with dark tinted windows that kept the heat out in
the summer. He’d had it for six months. A rushed purchase
when the lawyers made him turn over the car to his ex as
part of the settlement.
Why does everything have to be such a fight?
The battle over the car had taken three months and ended in
a compromise: the car for his golf clubs and boat. He wasn’t
about to let the baby-hungry bitch take everything.
The
house was hers to begin with. Brent suspected she would
have preferred to keep everything simply to take it away
from him, but common sense got the best of her. She knew
she required transportation to and from work and her job
was her life. Or at least it was her biggest priority now that
she’d given up on children with him.
Brent turned the key in the truck’s ignition and it coughed
and sputtered. He growled. Okay. It was a nice looking truck
but he still had to take it back and get the engine checked
out. It had backfired since the day they delivered it to him.
Damned irritating, but he wasn’t about to take off work with
Reva breathing down his neck.
Reva Zamora is a lunatic.
He shouldn’t have said that to Gavin
a while back. Still, she wasn’t exactly the sharpest stick in the
pile.
Admittedly,
she
was
coming
around
though.
He
expected if he continued to talk to her she’d be on his side.
She improved almost every time and seemed to understand
him better now. Perhaps Gavin’s suggestion to talk to her
had manifested positive rewards. Time would tell. He mulled
over the situation as his cell phone chirped at him.
“This is Brent,” he answered in his usual tone. He’d shared
his phone number with a lot of staff lately and took great
pride in the fact that they called him directly rather than the
support number. In fact, he surmised that he’d successfully
convinced much of the staff to call him, rather than Reva.
He listened smugly as the person on the other phone just
changed his plans to go home on time. “Sure, I can help you.
I’ll be there shortly. Have you called support yet?”
It pleased him that he would likely have to bypass her
password again to do what was asked.
Maybe she wasn’t a
lunatic, but she sure as hell was an idiot when it came to security.
Her
password had taken him less than twenty minutes to hack
with his software and he doubted she’d changed it in the
past thirty days.