“Yeah, me, too,” Brooke says, stepping up beside Joey. She flips her dark hair off her shoulder before crossing her arms over her chest. “He seems worthy of a good beat-down. One I’d personally like to deliver.”
Reaching for my coat, I grab my phone from the pocket. “You won’t have to tell Reese. I already decided he needs to know about this. I was just waiting until I wasn’t putting myself and others in danger to tell him. He’d flip out if he knew I was talking on the phone while driving.” I sit on the edge of my bed, dialing Reese’s office number and placing the phone to my ear. I look up and notice that neither one of my employees have moved from their spot. “Would one of you like to go downstairs in case someone comes in to buy something? We can’t all be up here.” Joey turns to Brooke who gives him a look like she shouldn’t be the one leaving. “Or both of you could go. I don’t really need an audience.”
Joey snaps his head in my direction, his eyes narrowing on mine. “I take offense to that, but fine.” He grabs Brooke’s arm. “Come on. I’ll show you what to do when someone comes in with a special request. Dylan has a specific way of doing things.”
Just as my loft door closes, the phone picks up.
“Reese Carroll’s office. Dave speaking. How can I help you?”
“Hi, Dave. It’s Dylan. Can I speak to Reese, please?”
“Absolutely. He just went to Mr. Thomas’ office, so I’ll transfer you to his line. Hold on one second.”
Speaking of Mr. Thomas’, Juls will definitely be filled in on what I just went through as soon as I hang up from this phone call.
“Ian Thomas.”
“Hey, Ian. It’s Dylan. Is Reese with you?”
“Yeah, he just walked in. Hold on.” I hear shuffling through the phone followed by a muffled “it’s your girl.”
The tenseness that has set into my shoulders seems to release a bit at the sound of my title. I love being ‘his girl’, and that’s always how Ian labels me. Even during mine and Reese’s casual bullshit phase.
“Love. Are you missing me already?”
I smile, my first smile in twenty minutes. “Always. But that’s not why I’m calling.”
After several seconds, he asks, “Are you going to tell me or am I supposed to be guessing?”
I sigh heavily, mentally preparing myself for the reaction that will surely ruin the amazing, post-orgasmic mood he’s floating around with. Mine sure as hell has been ruined. “No. But before I tell you this, I’d like to start off by saying I think I handled this very well and am quite proud of myself.”
“Is this wedding shit? Because you know I back you up one hundred percent. Whatever you decide is fine with me.”
I let out a small laugh. “No, it isn’t wedding shit. I’d actually prefer a discussion with both our mothers’ over the one I just had with Bryce.”
I don’t need to be in Ian’s office right now to know Reese’s free hand is in his hair. “What do you mean the discussion you just had with Bryce? You saw him?”
I hear Ian’s voice in the background, saying something I can’t make out before I respond. “He got on the elevator with me when I was leaving your building.”
His breathing fills my ear. “Did he? And what did you two discuss?”
I can sense the irritation in his voice and suddenly feel like it’s being directed toward me. “What’s with the attitude? I didn’t ask him to get on the elevator with me.”
“No, but you picked out that fucking outfit you had on.”
I’m on my feet, rage coursing through my body as I begin pacing alongside my bed. “Are you serious right now? I don’t remember you complaining about my wardrobe when you had your dick in me. And how the hell was I supposed to know he was in your building? I thought Ian closed the account with him.”
“He did. Don’t fucking yell at me because you, once again, decided to wear something that could draw you undesirable attention. You could’ve stripped all your clothes off once you got in my office, or waited until I fucking got home to pull that stunt.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not my style.”