The Not - Outcast

Reba was still barring me.

My knees were shaky, so thank Reba again.

She was glancing back over her shoulder, and she saw me reach for the desk to steady myself. Yeah. She was staying right where she was.

“What is this, Cheyenne? Why won’t Reba let me in?”

“I’m in an indisposed state of undress right now.” Totally lying, but I could feel his immediate retreat.

I almost grinned at his, “Oooh! Oh. So sorry. I didn’t—I’ll knock and wait next time. I promise.”

He was skipping over my veiled threat.

“But…uh…Cut Ryder and Hendrix Sanderson are coming in today.”

“What?!”

Reba sent me a fierce frown.

“Yeah.” Dean was trying to stand on his tiptoes to see me. “It was a last-minute ask. They, themselves, reached out yesterday, and they’re set to arrive in an hour. They’re coming straight from the airport.”

I got that wrong, too. I thought he was already here.

Why won’t I ever get my shit together? Be good at this living thing? Not just adulting. I was trying for that, too, but living. Being functional. That was more my goal.

This would be comical to another person, in another setting. I’d laugh at this maybe in a year, but not now. Cut was coming here to work, and I was in this state.

Cue another attack—no.

I had to get on this. Again.

“Okay. I’m guessing that you’ll be here to run through everything?” Me. I sounded so professional. I also had cold sweat pouring out of me.

“Yes.”

Dean sounded like he couldn’t wait to gush over both of them.

Reba rolled her eyes at me.

I grinned at that, but asked, still impressing myself with how controlled my tone was, “And you’ve let Boomer know?”

“I ran it by him yesterday.”

Then there was no point in telling me because Dean had no idea about myself and Cut. Only a few did. So that meant since it was a last-minute appearance, he was trying to be extra teammate-y and not wanting to piss us off even further.

Wanker.

I wasn’t English, but that name made me feel better right now.

“That sounds good. I’ll be in my office working on a few things.”

There was quiet from the door, and Reba still wasn’t moving.

A second later, he left and she shut the door before locking it. Then, she harrumphed. “Ridiculous we have to lock it so our coworkers don’t barge into our offices. The guys who come and eat here aren’t the ones we’re concerned about. It’s the co-workers.” And she stopped to eye me up and down. “You okay, honey?”

I closed my eyes, drew in some air, and asked for calmness.

I didn’t expect it to happen, but one never knew about miracles. I’ve heard they happened sometimes.

“I’ll be fine.”

She sat, folding herself into one of my chairs. “I tell you I have a daughter?”

I was taken aback. “No.”

She started picking at her nails, running her hand over each end and holding her hands out to inspect them. “No? Well, I do. Had a husband. Got her out of it. Best marriage and divorce present ever. Couldn’t care less about him, but her, I’d wrestle a tornado if I needed. You got me?”

“So, it’s not all only Netflix and chill?”

She grinned before going back to studying her nails. “She’s in college. First year, and she calls me up first weekend she’s there. She’s having a panic attack. She’s been having panic attacks almost weekly. She and I, we’re taking the steps we need to, but those things are a bitch.”

The anxiety was subsiding, and exhaustion was filling in its place.

But my mind was still spinning. I could tell her how many times she chipped at her nails just sitting there, and I could tell her how many creases she had in her blouse, but she was telling me she understood.

She understood some of it.

“You think I’m crazy?”

She gave me a look. “I don’t like using that word, but everybody’s a little off. If you ain’t, then you’re part alien. That’s my philosophy. Don’t sweat it. You do what you have to do to get by, as long as it’s legal, you know. Me?” She went to her armrests and pushed up, standing. “I now have to go and rearrange the volunteer schedule because Dean didn’t think to tell me he was bringing in two celebrities today. Don’t think a bunch of reporters who were coming in on their own would be a good mix since it seems like these two want it on the down-low they’re here.”

She started for the door but glanced back. “You need anything from me?”

I had to tell her. It wasn’t a secret, but I’d just not gone public at work. That was a different thing.

I eyed her back, seeing that she probably knew because she had a whole knowing glint in her gaze. I said it anyway, “I’m in a relationship with Cut Ryder.”