Page 62 of Reaching Gavin

Chapter Twenty-Two

I madeit to my desk before I started to cry. I’d left my cell phone there, afraid it would ring in the middle of my presentation. Picking it up now, I saw that my best friends had texted me a half-dozen good luck messages and inquiries about the weekend. I couldn’t bring myself to respond. It had taken all of my strength to keep a smile on my face as I maneuvered my way out of that conference room. Most people wanted to congratulate me on a job well done. Only a few mentioned my new relationship with Gavin. To his credit, no one seemed angry. He’d told me that no one would mind.

That wasn’t the point.

I felt a presence looming behind me and I spun around in my chair ready to face him. But it was only Trevor.

“Come to gloat?” I asked him.

“I came to tell you that your presentation was great.” He shoved his hands in his pant pockets and leaned against the cubicle opening.

“Sure,” I said flatly.

“No!” He shook his head with earnest sincerity. “You really seem to know what they want. You’re really special, Cassie. I should have told you that before.”

I blinked, trying to help my brain process what was happening. Trevor was complimenting me. This couldn’t be good.

“I know what Gavin said back there. But you can’t have been seeing each other that long.” He straightened up and took a step closer to me. “What we had was special. I didn’t see that before.”

We’d bypassed not good and headed directly for very, very bad.

“Because you weren’t looking.” This was unbelievable. Another man had just laid claim to me. Now my ex-boyfriend had decided that we should get back together. Apparently, they’d missed the memo that this vagina was owned by no man. I didn’t let him continue. “If you think you can just decide what’s best for me— for our relationship, which is soooo over—then you’re wrong. I’m not just sitting around here waiting for you to come around. I have plans and hopes and goals. I deserve someone who respects me all the time. Not just when it’s convenient for him.”

“Cassie, I”—

I cut him off. “Goodbye, Trevor.”

He stalked away, muttering under his breath. Gavin had been standing behind him, watching the whole thing.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked softly. He’d overheard. He knew that my rant hadn’t been directed entirely at Trevor.

“Do I have a choice?” I shot back.

“My office?”

I wanted to say no—that whatever he had to say to me he could say in front of the entire office, because apparently, we had no secrets from them. But I still had a measure of dignity left inside me. It was getting smaller by the second and probably couldn’t handle a very public argument, so I stood up and marched towards his office. He followed me inside and shut the door. I cringed, wondering what everyone would make out of that.

“Did Trevor”— he began.

“I don’t care about Trevor,” I interrupted.

“You’re upset,” he said.

“Hell yes, I am. You made a promise to me.” He needed to know how bad it hurt me that he’d made such an important announcement without my consent. “This was a big decision. It took me a long time to convince myself that there wasn’t anything wrong with seeing you. I needed a little longer to prepare to face everyone in the office every day as not just their colleague but your girlfriend.”

“I understand that,” he said, spreading his hands in surrender.

“Obviously, you don’t, or you wouldn’t have told everyone, including the preservation committee that you were banging your intern.”

Gavin winced as though I’d thrown a rock at him. “That’s not what this is between us. We both know that. You think I would have told them about you if it was just about sex?”

“I think that if it was more—like you claim it is–-you would’ve respected me enough to give me the time I needed before we told the world. I mean, first your parents and now the office.”

“I thought you had a good time with my parents.” His voice was so quiet that it sent a shiver rippling through me.

I’d hit my mark. I wanted to wound him, throw him off balance, like he had done to me. I didn’t mean half of what I was saying, but that was the thing about fighting. It was dirty and there were no rules. Somewhere a small voice warned me that I was taking things too far. Still, I continued, “I didn’t really have a choice, did I? It seems like I don’t have a lot of choices around you. I mean, are we going to move in together? Are we getting married? When would you like your first baby? Just give me a timeline.”

“That’s not fair.” The words rumbled through him like the first roll of thunder before the rain began. I’d pushed us past heated discussion into our first real argument.