5 The Stutter

It was a Monday morning and like every time it was a morning where he woke up in an unknown hotel with unknown arms around him. He did not pay much attention to the strawberry blonde that lay in the bed. In daylight, the colour seemed a total fake and Fred missed the honey blonde colour of Stella's hair cascading over his pillows. Somewhere in their sleeping arrangement, she decided to dye it brown and she has religiously kept it so. Fred knew well enough that if he had a normal life and if he were a dozen years younger Stella would be far more than his roommate. However, that was not the case.

Frederick picked up his ringing phone to hear the voice of the woman who plagued most of his waking thoughts. It was a ritual and he did not need to check his phone to know who would be on the other side. Only instead of the light teasing that greeted him, it was a stutter and Fred knew it was going to be a bad week.

"Why are you calling me at this God-forsaken hour, Ms Adam? I shouldn't even be awake," Fred complained.

"Si-sir, I wa-anted to remind you of your sche-schedule for the day," Reagan Adams stuttered on the other end. She wasn't like that with others. Fred had observed her with her other colleagues and understood how she made it through Jenna's scrutiny. But in his presence, there was something lacking.

"I have never missed a meeting in my life. I keep a copy of my schedule with me at all times. Also, I am logged in to the company database from my tablet and I have access to all your notes and paraphernalia," Fred reminded her.

"Oh...I am sorry to disturb, sir. Were you busy? Were you sleeping?" Reagan's persistent voice squeaked.

"What I do outside the office is none of your business, Ms Adam," Fred warned before abruptly disconnecting the line. As he did so his phone rang again.

"I do not like people prying into my personal life. Is that not clear to you?" he snapped on receiving the call.

"Last time I checked you private life consisted of me, take outs and booty calls with strangers on weekends," the soft laughter floated from the other side.

"Oh, Honey cup, I thought it was Adam again," Fred explained.

"So, has the Adams family been scaring you again. Do you want your momma to give a warning to that chick?" Stella teased.

"No, Mommy. I am a big boy. I can deal with my girl problem on my own. Just if any girl comes to tell you that your boy burned their hair, don't believe them," Fred said, mimicking Stella's tone.

It took Stella a few minutes to control the laughter. "Did you ever actually do that?" she asked as she sobered down.

"Yes, I did. She was the neighbour's kid and I was seven years old. She was five. She used to come over and hog all my toys. So one day I pretended to play with her. Took my mom's hair iron and burnt her hair," Fred recalled.

"Did you get away with it though?" Stella asked curiously.

"Nah, My Papa got wind of it. He was ashamed that his son was playing with a piu ragazza and took me to the training ground the very next day. In a month I had already killed a guy," Fred recalled sadly.

Stella knew that Fred would be heaving now. He never cried but dry heaved till he burst into white-hot rage. He would need her to calm him down. She decided to call her office to ask for the day's leave. She could always work from home. Her firm mainly handled financial matters. Her uncle would cover for her. "Fred, I need to call work. Will you be alright? See you in a bit" Stella promised. That brought a smile to his face. It was code for he would see her real soon.

"Sure, honey cup. I will get you a cappuccino mocha," Fred promised. He knew she wouldn't let it grow cold.

By the time she arrived in the office, the atmosphere was already tense. Mrs Martin, the burly receptionist let out a long breath on seeing Stella enter the office. Stella smiled at her at which Mrs Martin widened her eyes, not knowing how to return the smile. Two people had already been fired within half an hour because of gossiping near the water filter before break time.

"That bad huh?" Stella questioned her.

Mrs Martin shook her head. "Stan and Charlie," she said moving her head from side to side. Stella understood and nodded before walking towards the door that held one fuming boss. Just as she was about to turn the knob however a hand came and smacked hers. Stella whipped around and frowned when she observed the brunette that stood before her. In the resume, her picture depicted her as professional and elegant. But face to face Reagan Adams was stunning. She had grey eyes which had been something she had not noticed earlier.

"Mr Bartoli does not entertain strangers without prior appointment, Miss," she said.

Stella noticed her professional pantsuit, gave a blank look and nodded. Then she flipped out her phone and placed it against her ears.

"Hey Teddy bear, your guard dog won't let me get in. Want to fire another ass?" she asked while looking at Adams.

The door opened and Fred stood with an irritated look. "Adams, how many times do I have to tell you to mind your own business?"

"But sir, she..." Adam began.

"I am not scheduled for any meetings right now. And about who is allowed in my office or not, I have an extensive security outfit regulating who goes in and out of the building. You really think they would have allowed Stella in without an appointment? Get in Stella." Fred ordered rushing inside. He kept the door opened behind him.

Stella saw Reagan put her head down and murmur something to herself.

"What was that?" Stella asked, still irritated.

"It's Adam, not Adams. He never calls me by name but he calls you. What do you have that I don't?" she asked.

"O boy! You have a crush on your boss," It was not a question. "Look here, Reagan. Trust me when I tell you that you do not want to be involved with Fred. Women are not a constant in his life and he likes it that way." Stella explained.

"But you are constant in his life," she pointed out.

"What we have is different," Stella said, matter-of-factly.

"What if I replace you?" Reagan said with a smirk.

Stella gasped at the change in the woman. "What are you getting at?" she asked her.

"I am aiming at BLIC and your friendship. And know something Ms Wilson, I always get what I want."

Stella was left gaping before she realized that neither Fred nor her had given Reagan her last name. Reagan Adams was not just a pretty face and she felt threatened by her though she wouldn't let her see that. But desperate times called for desperate measures and she would make provisions for it.