“Oh, but I …”
“Sadie will only be here for two or three weeks. Just until you can do these things for yourself. It’s a gift from Ben, Sam.” Lauren’s grin is so large, it’s almost obscene.
“Thank you, Sadie.”
I walk into my room and call Lauren in.
“I can’t do this,” I whisper.
“Why not?”
“You know why. It’s ridiculous.”
“So what? Make him pay, Sam. It’s nothing more than he deserves.”
“But I feel guilty.” And I do. More than I can tell her, but I don’t know why.
“Just shut the hell up and let Sadie do her job.”
“Okay. Okay, I will. But I don’t like it.” Only I change my mind after day one. Sadie is amazing. Her meals are excellent, and I wish I could afford to keep her forever.
In the two weeks that Sadie is here, I feel extremely spoiled and pampered. I wake up to the smell of coffee and homemade bread every morning. I get a full breakfast, then a made to order lunch and a dinner that’s out of this world every day. Not to mention Sadie does all our laundry, including sheets and towels. This is the life. On her last day, I’m practically in tears. I don’t want her to leave and I tell her how much I will miss her.
“I’ve enjoyed being here very much, too, Ms. Sam. Maybe we’ll see each other again.”
I seriously doubt that, but I nod anyway. Because it would be rude to do otherwise, I send Ben a note thanking him for Sadie. It’s brief and to the point.
Ben,
Thank you for sending me Sadie.
She was a big help and was wonderful.
I appreciated her very much.
Sam
The next day, I go to my surgeon for my first follow up visit. When he examines me, he’s very pleased with my healing. Laney was right. My new boobs look great. The only things different are the scars and the nipple sensations are diminished. They are still reactive, but not as much. But it sure beats dying.
When I get home, there’s a card in the mail from one of the local spas. Apparently I have a home massage coming tomorrow, courtesy of Ben. It’s one of the hot stone massages, and it will be an hour and a half long. He also sprung for a facial. Boy, he’s totally going for brownie points. I can’t say that I’m not happy about this. A massage is just what the doctor ordered.
The masseuse arrives on time with her table and supplies. The only problem is I can’t lay on my stomach yet with my new boobs, but she is able to work around that by concentrating on other areas with me on my back. I feel like a new woman. When I tell her what happened to me, she gives me a gift certificate to come to the spa when I’m healed and can lie on my stomach, so I can get a full massage. I tip her fifty bucks.
Lauren and the rest of the girls come over that night. Berkeley brings pizza and we sit around and discuss Ben.
Berkeley wants me to call him. Not to see him but to hear him out. Britt is on the fence. Carrie and Hayley are on the hell no team. And Lauren is quiet for a long time. She finally says, “He loves you, Sam. Like has it for you in the worst way. You’re going to have to do something because he’ll continue until …”
“Until what?” I ask.
“I don’t know, honestly. He’s trying hard, for sure.”
“Why have you changed your mind about him, Lauren?” I ask.
She taps her finger against her chin. “I’m not sure I have. He totally feels remorse for what he did or he wouldn’t be going to these lengths. And like I’ve said, he’s crazy, head over heels for you. I’m just sayin’, you know?”
Berkeley adds, “Give it a few days to mull over, Sam. There’s nothing that says you have to act now.”
“There’s nothing that says I have to act at all. After what he did, I’m not sure I have the nerve to take the first step.”
“You do. You’re the strongest person I know.” Lauren smiles when she says it.
The next day, I’m watching TV and wondering when I’m going to go back to work. The doctor said three weeks, minimum. Work is super busy with a stacked schedule. Jenna’s help in finding Nick’s replacement was a miracle. Laney has put all her charities on hold for me and is basically filling in full-time. But that can’t last forever because she holds some high ranking positions and they need her to fulfill her role. Mom has even pitched in a time or two. There are a few things coming up this weekend that Berkeley and Carrie are helping out with, but my doctor is adamant about me not doing anything for three weeks, so that leaves me out.
I decide to give Nancy a call to see how things are panning out.
When her cheery voice answers the phone, I can feel my lips curl into a smile. “How’s my favorite admin doing?”
“Sam! Oh my gosh, it’s so good to hear your voice. Can I tell you how much you’ve been missed?”
“I wish you wouldn’t because it’s going to make it harder to stay away. I can’t come back until next Monday,” I groan.
“Don’t you worry about a thing. We have you covered on all ends here. You wouldn’t believe what we have going.”
That’s an odd comment coming from her. “Okay, I’ll take the bait. Tell me what’s cooking over there.”
She snickers. “Well, at first it was World War Three. I thought Laney was going to call in the SWAT team to tear gas the place.”
“What are you talking about?”
I’m getting to that,” Nancy says. “But then there was a huge stand-off. They yelled and screamed. Threats—oh my God, you wouldn’t believe how they went at each other. And that sister of yours—she sure has your back.”
Now I’m totally confused. “Nancy, would you get to the point?”
“Right. So after the shouting match and the SWAT threats, we finally pulled them apart, and he convinced her he could be a huge help.”
“He? Who’s he? Nick?”
“No, not Nick. Ben. Ben Rhoades. He’s been working his butt off here, helping. Between your sister and him, they have kept this business running like a well-oiled machine, Sam.”
Holy fucking shit. Ben? Laney and Ben? In the same room? And she hasn’t killed him?
“I can tell you she wanted to at first.”
I hadn’t realized I’d spoken those words out loud.
“Jesus. He’s been working for me?”
“Not only working, but doing about fourteen hour days here. I’m not kidding, Sam. He and your sister make quite the team. It was tense at first, when she had him doing everything from fixing the toilet to manning the phone, but now they’ve come to some sort of agreement. Oh, and I’m not supposed to tell you so don’t rat on me.”
“What? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Apparently he doesn’t want you to know he’s doing this.”
I have no words for this. I can’t even think straight.
“Sam, are you there?”
“Yeah, Nancy. Hey, I’ve got to go. Thanks for telling me. And I won’t breathe a word to Laney.”
“Thanks. And we really do miss you and can’t wait for you to get back here.”
“I miss you, too.”
I end the call and stare off into space, thinking about everything that Ben is doing for me. What about his job? If he’s spending all that time at my business, how is he managing his own work? What is his father thinking about all of this? And he’s doing it with me not supposedly knowing about it. My brain is exploding with all this knowledge and I would be lying to myself if I said my heart weren’t warming to it.
There is a pad of paper and a pen on the coffee table so I start to list everything that Ben has done for me. As I’m reviewing my list, the mail comes and when I sift through it, Ben strikes again. He’s sent another gift in the form of food. But this time it’s an open ended credit for take out from the Carry-Out Concierge, a pricey delivery service from many of the downtown restaurants. I’m shocked. There is no spending limit on this, nor is there an expiration date on it.
When Lauren gets home from wo
rk, I show it to her.
“Woohoo, you hit the jackpot on this one, girl!”
“I can’t accept it. It’s too much.”
She looks at me like Yoda from Star Wars just rolled up. “Are you nuts? You have to accept it. After what that douche did to you, he deserves to empty out his bank account pampering your ass.”
“Okay, one, he already has. And two, I have to explain.” Then I fill her in on what he’s doing for me at work. “And three, with all the signals you’ve been sending me lately, I sort of thought you were Team Ben.”
She cocks her head and says, “Let’s get one thing straight here—I am always and forever Team Sam. And while I think Ben Rhoades is madly in love with you, that doesn’t negate the fact that he crushed my girl. Since he did that, the douche must pay and this is one way for him to do that. With this being said, do I think he needs to pay forever? No. There is a limit to my revenge. Take advantage of this for a while and then stop using it. If you want to see him, or talk to him, then call him. But Sam, you can’t string him along forever. That will only bring you down to his level when he hurt you and you don’t want to be like that. As far as your business is concerned, that’s one more area he’s proving himself to you.”
She’s right. If I’m going to make contact with him, I need to do something soon.
A couple of days go by with Lauren and I enjoying my latest gift in the form of fancy dinners every night. I’m not gonna lie and say I have zero guilt when spending oodles of Ben’s dollars on this stuff. But as Lauren says, payback can be hell.
Once more, the mail delivers another Ben attack. Only this time, it’s in the form of a letter. No gift from a fancy spa. Nothing from a fine dining establishment. This is a handwritten missive through and through. My hand trembles as my finger slides under the flap to open it. Am I willing to take this step? I feel my heart thumping in my chest. I know it’s pieced back together where he’s concerned, but has the glue dried sufficiently to hold all them in place? I’m so fucking scared, sometimes I think that taking a breath will shatter it all over again. If that’s the case, what will Ben’s words do to me?
The knock at the door isn’t much of a surprise. I’ve been a hermit over a week and I’m shocked it’s taken this long for my sister to do a follow up.
Only when I open the door, Jeff and Mark stand on my stoop. Jeff holds up a six-pack of beer and I step back to usher them inside.
“Damn, man. What happened to you?” Jeff comments before flopping on my sofa.
“Sorry we showed up unannounced,” Mark says, putting a hand on my shoulder.
I give him a weary smile and nod as Mark sits in the chair. Part of me isn’t up to company. But there’s a part of me that misses having someone I can confide in that’s not my sister or Cate. I take a chance and sit on the opposite end of the couch.
“I fucked up,” I confess.
Mark and Jeff trade glances.
“This has something to do with a woman. The cute event planner I’m guessing,” Mark says.
I nod, feeling her loss as much as the finality of Drew’s death.
Jeff lets out a long-winded sigh, but I don’t care. “You know we are about to cross into pussy territory talking about women the way they talk about us.”
Shrugging, I say, “You walked into this shit pile. I didn’t ask you to come.”
“Yeah, because I thought your old man gave you hell about how you handled things.”
I scrub a hand over my face. “Actually, he gave me a promotion.” They both gape. “It doesn’t matter. Not coming into the office will end that career move.”
Mark gives me a sympathetic smile. Jeff, on the other hand, wears a clownish expression with wide eyes and an open mouth.
“You’re going to let a pair of tits ruin your career.”
He has no idea how close to the truth he is, except the tits in question ruined my relationship. Pushing my hair out of my face, I meet his gaze. “She’s worth far more than that.”
Silence takes over until Jeff leans forward and starts passing out beers.
“You two fucks have caught the pussy virus and there is no cure. I’m glad I’m immune to that shit.”
“Jeff, let it go,” Mark says sullenly.
“How’s the bitch?” Jeff asks him.
“She’s not a bitch.”
Jeff has the decency to look startled. “Really, after everything you’ve told us?”
“I haven’t told you everything.”
Jeff throws an incredulous gaze my way before asking, “So, what did you do?”
The story unfolds from my mouth like a badly constructed paper airplane destined to crash mid-flight to the ground.
“Damn,” Jeff says. “That’s messed up.”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”
“What have you done to win her back?”
“Outside of her sister threatening to call the cops on me?” He nods. “Flowers, paid for a housekeeper, food, a massage.” I toss up my hands. “I don’t know what else I can do.”
“Did you tell her how you’re feeling all pussy whipped?”
I roll my eyes knowing what he means, but not rising to the bait.
“She’d likely delete any e-mail or text message I send without reading it.”
Jeff shakes his head. “Write her a note or something. Women eat that shit up.”
“You know what, you might have an idea there,” I say to Jeff.
“How’s her business holding up with her being out?” Mark asks, drawing our attention to him. “What?” He shrugs. “She’s probably going to be out of work for a while.”
Several beers later, a crazy plan forms in my head. After they leave, I sit at my desk with a pen in my hand and a blank piece of paper before me. I stare a long time, before I put the pen to paper and begin.
Sam,
I could say sorry, which I am, but that does nothing to erase the pain I caused.
I could tell you how much I love you, but it’s meaningless because I wasn’t there when you needed me most.
They say love is blind, and in truth I was blind to how much you meant to me until I let you slip through my fingers.
The days are long and the nights cold without you. Please don’t give up on me. I know we are meant to be together.
If you give me another chance, I promise to be the man worthy of you.
I know now that all I need is you. The alternative means a solitary existence for me.
I once told you I believed you were the brightest star in the heavens. I still believe that, only now without you, my life is lonely and dark—nothing but a black hole.
There is no one else on this earth for me.
B~
I slip it in an envelope addressed to her, but hold off on sending it. I have a few things I need to do before first. In the morning I make one of two necessary calls before my plan falls in place.
“Dad.”
“Ben,” the pause is so thick, and I’m too sluggish with my response. He beats me to the punch. “Do you plan on coming into work today?”
“Actually, I’m going to take a leave of absence.”
Silence. I hear my neck crack as I straighten my spine.
“I’m sorry to do this. But there is someone who needs me.” Even if she doesn’t want my help.
“What about your workload?”
“I’ve got it covered. Jeff and Mark will handle the day stuff. And I’ll log on at night and handle the rest.”
Dad’s displeasure when he ends the call is something I push to the furthest reach of my mind as I get myself presentable for the first time in weeks.
My second call is much easier.
“Jenna.”
“Ben.”
She says my name as quiet as a whisper.
“You alone?”
“Not exactly. Give me a minute.”
I hear rustling and the pad of her feet against the floor.
“Is Kenneth in town?”
Her pause i
s enough answer.
“Since when did I answer to my big brother about who I bring to my bed?”
“Is it Brandon?” I ask, ignoring her deflection.
“None of your business. Now why have you called?”
“Take it from me, baby sister, follow your heart before it’s too late.”
“Shit, who body snatched my brother? Did you fix things with Sam?”
“Not exactly,” I sigh. “I need your help. Did you ever refer that person to Sam for her open position?”
“Yeah, she started, I think.”
“Can you find out if Sam needs an extra set of hands?”
“Oh, Benny boy, I like how your thinking. Give me a minute, I’ll call you back.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me. You owe me.”
Not quite an hour later when I walk into Sam’s office, everything’s going smoothly until Sam’s sister spots me. Laney isn’t happy and throws every kind of threat imaginable at me, but I hold my ground. Eventually, we come to a sort of unspoken agreement, all in the name of helping Sam. Over the course of a couple days, her attitude toward me begins to soften, as I believe she sees I only have Sam’s best interests at heart. Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself. The next two weeks I burn the candle at both ends but each morning I show up with a smile on my face. I wasn’t there when she needed me the most, so now the least I can do is help keep Sam’s business clicking along.
The day Sam’s due to return, I show up at my office for the first time in about a month. It isn’t long before Trudy informs me my father wishes to see me in his office.
It feels like I’m taking my last steps on death row as I walk past a hallway of offices with everyone watching me like they know my father’s about to give me the boot, not that I can blame him.
“Ben, have a seat.”
Dutifully, I do as he asks.
His demeanor is rather calm and I expect the worst.
“Am I to assume you’ve joined us for the foreseeable future?” I’m not sure how to answer that. When I don’t, he adds. “Is your leave over?”
A Mess of a Man Page 31
