Page 47 of Crave Me

“I just received confirmation that access has been revoked,” Anne says, returning the receiver to the base. “And Brenda from HR confiscated his laptop as Remington was brought back to the room.”

“Thank you,” I say.

I want to acknowledge Anne and Clifton better than this. But I’m so fucking tired of dealing with the Remingtons within my company the words don’t come, only anger.

My fingers rub across my forehead. It’s a wonder I can find any trace of happiness these days, despite realizing that my biggest source of happiness has been noticeably absent.

Wren . . . I can’t begin to guess if there’s anything between us. She didn’t reply to my text until late Sunday, mentioning she was dealing with an issue at her job. Since then, her responses have been brief at best, and now, all but gone.

She assured me she’d try, as I did. But my long list of responsibilities have kept me from giving her the attention she deserves. It’s been almost two weeks since I saw her smile and found mine because of it. That doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten her.

“Do you need a moment?” Anne asks.

“Pardon?” I ask, glancing up.

She lets out a breath that flutters her long bangs away from her face, the tips lime green to match her suit. Like me, she’s tired of all the wrong people at the right company. “I need to go over the presentation for Ork Mechanicus we’re pitching to the burn center to be sure it’s what you want.”

“That’s not necessary,” I say, reaching for the pile of work that will take me well past midnight to read through. “You know what you’re doing. I’d like you to spearhead the meeting, and Clifton to oversee and manage our deal with Adeptus.”

“But,” she begins.

“Make it happen,” I tell her.

Excitement and fear war in her round features. This is a tremendous step, one she’s earned. “Yes, Evan.” She lifts the pile closest to my right and hurries out, pausing at the door. “Thank you,” she says.

“For what?” I ask.

“For believing in this company.”

Her kindness is refreshing. Unlike Ashleigh who enters the moment she leaves. “You fired Remington?” she asks.

“Yes,” I reply, reaching for a pen.

“Do think that was wise?”

Today is not the day to question me. “Are you saying it’s not? Because if you are, need I remind you that you are now questioning both my intelligence and my ability to lead?”

Her thin lips press into a ruler straight line. “That’s not what I’m saying. Remington was trying to help you make money the company needs. Jesus, Evan, we’re all trying to help you.”

Her tone is accusatory, as if I’ve somehow betrayed her. “All you had to do was listen,” she says. “Take this one opportunity to help iCronos before it’s too late.”

“By siding with a company and industry that for far too long has harmed many?” I ask. “iCronos is better than that.”

“Not in the extreme direction you’re taking it,” she counters.

I’m ready to hurl my desk out the window.

Someone knocks on the door, loud enough to catch my attention, but not so loud that Ashleigh turns around.

Wren’s long dark hair spills to the side when she pokes her head in. “Hi,” she says.

“Hi,” I reply. I’m stunned she’s here, not that it keeps me from returning a smile I’ve fared too long without.

Her attention darts briefly to Ashleigh whose back is now to me. I’m can’t be sure of the way Ashleigh regards her, but the amused shimmer in Wren’s stare is telling enough. “How’s it going there, Ash?”

“We’re in a meeting,” Ashleigh replies.

Her blatant dismissal of Wren has me reeling. “No, we’re not,” I respond over Wren’s offer to wait. “Our conversation ends now.”

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