Evermore

by Corinne Michaels

  “He’s fine. I love his wife, Charlie, and she beats him up when he acts like an ass—which means every day.”

  “She really is the best. I met her at Catherine’s wedding and we talked a lot.”

  “Oh! I forgot about that. She’s the best. Truly. She’s probably the only woman alive who could deal with that man.”

  We both giggle.

  “If it isn’t Jilted.”

  Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

  “You are not going to call me that, asshat.”

  “Oh, now that I know it bothers you, I totally am.”

  Great. It’s like giving a dog a bone with these guys.

  “Whatever you say, Twinkle Toes or was it Teeny Peenie? I can never remember your call sign.”

  His eyes widen and Natalie bursts out laughing.

  “I can kill you, remember that,” Mark warns.

  “You could try, but your wife likes me and she’d kill you.”

  He grumbles about women under his breath.

  Natalie claps her hands. “God, this is going to be the best place to work again.”

  For the first time since the wedding, I feel like I can breathe. My lungs don’t hurt and there’s not this dull pain in my chest. The issue is that I’m not sure if I’m more upset that Harold and I are over or that I lost my job.

  “All kidding aside.” I smile and put my professional face forward. “I’m really happy to be here. Whatever I can do to help, I’m up for the challenge.”

  “Mark,” a deep, throaty voice says from behind me. “I have the next—”

  I turn, and he stops.

  Everything stops.

  The world. My breathing. My heart. Time.

  It just...dissipates.

  I’m at a total loss for words because this man is gorgeous. He’s at least six-foot-four with huge arms and a broad chest. There’s a dark stubble on his face that makes him look both scary and yet trustworthy. The most important feature on a man, in my opinion, is his hands. This man has perfect hands.

  But there, underneath the ridiculously sexy body, are eyes I remember. Ones that seem to know me too.

  “Gretchen?”

  Well, Ben has grown up and...wow. “Ben?”

  He smiles and that boyish look is still the same. “Catherine said you were coming down to work here, but she didn’t mention...”

  “Mention what?”

  He shakes his head and scratches the back of his neck.

  I know my best friend failed to mention that he is sex on a stick and I shouldn’t just dress cute, I should’ve dressed for any possibility of seeing GI Joe on crack.

  “Didn’t mention you’d be working together on the client Ben is heading?” Mark finishes. “Or that you’d want to undress her six ways till Sunday when you saw her?”

  Natalie slaps his chest. “Really, Mark? Idiot.” She steps forward. “Gretchen, I’ll show you to the office you’ll be working out of.”

  Ben puts his hand up. “I’ll show her. No need to have you do it, Lee.”

  My heart accelerates a bit. Totally just nerves. Yup. Nerves.

  “You’re such a good guy, Ben. Unlike the other tools!” Natalie yells and they all grunt or groan. “Don’t let any of these boys get an inch with you, got it?”

  I’ve worked with men before, but I have a feeling this is a little different caliber of men. “I won’t. Thank you. Maybe we can do lunch?”

  She nods. “I’d love that.”

  Ben turns and I take my cue. We walk down the hall in silence, and then I clear my throat. “So, a SEAL?”

  “I did my time in college, hated wearing a suit, and one of my buddies said he was joining the Navy. One thing led to another and I was following him right into my first commission.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah.” He cracks his neck. “I figured if I was going to join, might as well try it all.”

  “How long were you in?” I ask as we stop in front of the door.

  “Not as long as I would’ve liked.”

  I crinkle my eyes, confused because if he wanted to stay in, why didn’t he?

  “Well, thank you for your service.”

  Ben smirks with a laugh. “If you say that to everyone who served in this area, you’ll lose your voice.”

  I nudge him with my arm. “Still, thank you. If I lose my voice, that’s the least I can do to show my appreciation.”

  “Well, thank you for thanking me.”

  “I think you’re missing the point of the thank you.”

  “I guess I am.” Ben shrugs. “Tell me about your job...”

  The first thing that comes to mind is my ex. My disgust rises as I think of him. Stupid asshole. But then comes disappointment, not because he’s my ex, but because I love practicing law. I enjoyed researching, making lists, checking things off knowing that rules would work themselves out because of the laws people before me determined to be just.

  Never in college did I think some man would be what I thought of first.

  “Hmm…” I say the word slowly. “I was a contracts and litigation attorney. It’s truly as fascinating as it sounds. Lots of reading, studying, reading over old cases and then coming up with a plan.”

  “Oh, I remember how much you love plans.”

  “I do.” I smile.

  “I would bet that you still keep lists for everything too...”

  “You would be correct.”

  Ben shakes his head and I remember how much he thought I was a headcase for them. “I’m glad that some things haven’t changed.”

  There’s a look in his eyes that makes my heart race.

  “Well, unlike you.” I tuck my hair behind my ear, feeling really uncomfortable and shy. “You changed a lot.”

  He nods. “That I have.”

  “Not too much, though. You still have that mischievous look about you.”

  Ben chuckles. “Here we are.”

  He opens the door and I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it’s more of a conference room than an office. There are two small desks and then a round table in the middle. I didn’t think I’d have a corner office, but I wasn’t really thinking I would share either. It’s cozy, though, and for Jackson, hopefully I can help.

  “Is there someone else that will be in here?” I ask.

  “Yes. Me.”

  Well, shit.

  “I see.”

  “We’re sharing this office for now. Jackson thought since most of the work will require us both to bounce the info, no point in us having to walk back and forth. My office is usually right down the hall, but it’s too small for another desk.”

  “Sounds very...” Stupid. Close. Intimate. Dumb. “…efficient.”

  He chuckles once. “Yeah. Good word.”

  “I’ll take the left side if that’s okay?”

  “Sure. I don’t really have a preference so whatever works.” I put my purse down, grab a note pad and pen. “So what is the client you’re working on and what do you need my legal knowledge for?”

  Ben makes his way to the table, putting a bunch of folders together. “It’s a foreign dignitary and his family. The dignitary is one thing, but his son is an...idiot. A total fucking moron. He keeps screwing up, getting his father into trouble, and we really needed a lawyer on payroll to help us when he screws up again.”

  “What has he done?”

  “What hasn’t he done? The issue isn’t even the crap he pulls, it’s what he hasn’t gotten caught doing.”

  Makes me think of Ashton when we were kids. My mother didn’t worry about what we were caught doing, it was the things we got away with. “Is there something he’s into now? Some reason Jackson was urgent about me coming right away?”

  Ben rubs his hand down his face. “Seventy-two hours ago, he disappeared.”

  “As in missing?”

  Ben nods.

  Jesus. What the hell kind of shit pile did I just willingly walk into? I’ve always known what Jackson does is dangerous. The man
was shot, for Christsake. Then of course Aaron died—ish. Mark was kidnapped—then found.

  This pep talk is really not helping.

  I take a few cleansing breaths to slow my nerves. I’m not going to be in danger, I’m just here for legal help.

  The key to crisis management is being level-headed. Which is what I will be.

  “Have you alerted the authorities?” I ask.

  “No. We can’t.”

  “What?”

  “We can’t. We’re operating as the authorities.”

  “Well then,” I huff. “Why aren’t you all out there looking for him? Why are you here with me?”

  “I would love nothing more than to be out there doing something instead of being stuck in this office, but life doesn’t give us what we want. I would only hinder the operation, furthering Cole Securities to be held liable for this fucking mess.”

  “I’m confused.”

  He pulls his pant leg up, showing me his prosthetic. “IED. So, here I am. Sidelined.”

  Chapter Four

  Ben

  That look. The one that reminds me that the life I dreamed of is fucking dead. The shock that then always turns to sadness for being a broken man.

  I mourned it a long time ago, but I watch it every time someone else does.

  If I have to see her do it, it’ll be different.

  Gretchen was that girl. The one I prayed would see we could be more than friends, and then, when we finally had our chance, I moved.

  My father’s job had us go from New Jersey to Idaho and he took it because of how badly I was picked on. I hated it. I hated leaving her. I would’ve taken an ass-kicking every day if it meant that I could be with her.

  Sure, we were teenagers and it probably would’ve never worked, but there was something there and then I had to bury it. When I saw her again, it came rising to the top.

  “Okay, then,” Gretchen says a second later, her blonde hair falling in her face a little. “Let’s do what we can from here. I figure we can use good old detective work and brain power. I’ve never really dealt with a kidnapping in litigation, but I’m sure there’s something I watch on CSI that could come in handy, right?”

  I’m stunned slightly. No questions? No millions of options that she thinks I should do? Where is the pity? Where’s the sadness at the shattered dreams?

  I wait for it, because it always comes.

  I’m not sad nor do I feel bad for myself. I’m pissed, sure. I have regrets to some extent, but I’m lucky. I’m alive. Some of my friends weren’t quite so lucky.

  Immediately, I realize my mistake. I went there.

  My mind fills with visions of the mission where we were riding in the Humvee, laughing, talking about TJ’s fiancée and all the money that wedding was going to cost—and then suddenly, we weren’t.

  “Hey, Ben, you with me?” she asks, breaking me from my thoughts.

  I shake my head. “You don’t want to ask a million questions?”

  “Well, I just asked one. If you could answer that, it would be great.”

  “I mean about my injury.”

  She shrugs. “Do you want to answer a million questions?”

  “No.”

  “That’s what I figured. If you want to tell me or talk, I’m here, but I know what it feels like to have people ask the same shit over and over again.”

  I remember what Catherine said about her being stood up, and nod. I can imagine that she’s dealing with a lot, including people wanting to know information she probably doesn’t even have.

  But still, I’m not used to the reaction she gives. Almost like it doesn’t matter.

  “Still...” I say.

  Her hand touches my arm. “I’m sorry you went through that. I really am. I know this is going to sound stupid or whatever, but I missed you, Ben. You were my best friend and I’m just really happy you’re alive and here. I’m glad that right now, we’re sitting in the same room and can talk. I really am.”

  “You missed me huh?” I nudge her.

  “Well, I missed the scrawny kid who used to take the candy out of my bookbag when he didn’t think I was looking. Who talked to me about how inaccurate movie scenes were based on random facts you knew. Not sure about The Hulk who is ridiculously hot, broody, with muscles...who is in front of me...and I’m going to shut up...” Gretchen seems to catch herself and her face turns bright red.

  “Please. Do keep going...”

  Gretchen was always gorgeous to me. I crushed on her all through school. She was the first girl I really had feelings for and when I left her, I hated my father. I had this adolescent dream that we would somehow be together. If she could just see...

  Seems her eyesight is finally working.

  “Anyway. The case. The missing kid, let’s talk about that, and not your jacked-up body, okay?”

  I decide to let her off the hook—for now.

  “Sure, why don’t we start at the beginning?”

  She nods and sits beside me, taking a sheet of paper, and starts to read it. Instead of doing the same, I watch her. She’s different and yet still in some ways, she hasn’t changed at all. Her hair is much blonder, her eyes are still that aqua blue, though. I note the scar right under her eye from when she fell as we were playing tag. It’s faded, but still there.

  I wondered about her through the years. I hoped that she was okay. I’ve never been much for technology, plus we’re not exactly encouraged to have a presence online, so I couldn’t look her up.

  But she’s right here. Looking as beautiful as ever.

  “How have you been? Truly, are you okay?” I ask, unable to stop myself, mostly because I just want more of an excuse to keep looking at her.

  She shrugs. “I’m functioning.”

  “That sounds really encouraging.” I laugh once.

  “I’m sure you know that I’m here because I was left at the altar. I lost my job...well, I quit because I was sleeping with my boss who decided on my wedding day he didn’t want to marry me. I was set to make partner at said job, so there’s that. My life list has gone to total shit, and I was given a pity job from my best friend’s husband. I mean, I’m really winning at life.” Gretchen releases a heavy sigh and then covers her face. “Oh my God, I’m a mess.”

  I pull her hands down, hating that she felt the need to hide. “You’re not a mess.”

  Her eyes go wide. “Did you not hear my life just now?”

  “I did, but I bet I can do you one better,” I challenge.

  “Please. By all means.”

  She has no idea what she just asked for. I’m the poster child for mess. “I’m divorced because my wife couldn’t handle the fact that I was injured. I lost my dream job, where I was literally kicking ass—daily. My parents passed away a year ago in a car wreck—while I was deployed. I live in a tiny ass apartment, after mooching off Jackson and Catherine because I basically shut myself down after my injury. I work here because Jackson and Mark won’t let me quit, no matter how many times I’ve tried. Oh, and I literally lost an appendage.”

  “No fair.” Gretchen glares.

  “No, it’s not.”

  She shakes her head. “No, you can’t use the war injury as one of your life being a mess things. I call bullshit on that.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Gretchen leans back in her seat with her arms over her very ample chest. “That’s like the trump card that you can’t play. Your wife leaving you, fine. Your job, I get. Even the housing thing, I’m totally with you on, because I too am now homeless and living in my best friend’s husband, now boss’s house. But you can’t use your leg as a sucking point. Because it sucks, but it doesn’t make you a mess.”

  I’m dying to hear her reasoning on that. “And how exactly does it not?”

  “Because you, Benjamin Pryce, are a hero. A man who fought during a war and you survived. That’s not a mess, my friend. Not even a little. Find another reason.”

  I laugh, a true, deep, hearty laugh for the first t
ime in forever. She just called my ass out and doesn’t look the least bit upset by it. As if all these years haven’t passed and she’s still the dorky kid’s friend.

  “You got balls, I’ll tell you that,” I toss back.

  “Why, because your half-assed attempt at making your story sound worse didn’t work?”

  I think back to reasons and the one sticks out. Her life list. She still has that damn thing? I remember she would write, scratch out, write more, cross it off, and add again all throughout school. She felt that if she wrote it down, she put it out for the world to find.

  I always thought she was ridiculous with it, but she swore it would work.

  “Where the hell is your life list?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Now it’s my turn to grin. “Not a chance. You called me out, time to face the firing squad. Give it to me.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “No, I’m not giving it to you.” Gretchen looks away but I see the glimpse of her smile.

  “So you do have it? I bet it’s even on you right now.”

  Her eyes narrow and she points a finger at me. “You will never see it.”

  I lean in, pulling her hand down and my lips turn up. “We’ll just have to see about that.”

  Chapter Five

  Gretchen

  He smells so damn good, and arguing with him felt so natural. It was like all the years never passed and we’re still the same people in some ways. Ben was the first person to really know me. He also never stopped making fun of my lists.

  Lists are good.

  They’re a loose plan that keeps things on track.

  Of course my life list could be burned at this point because none of it is working out right.

  I look at my coat sitting on the chair, the pocket that’s currently holding the list. I carry it with me everywhere. If I ever need to edit, it’s always with me.

  Suddenly, Ben’s hands reach for the coat.

  “Shit!” I yell but he already has it out.

  “Get married by thirty-three.“ He turns to me with a raised brow. “You missed that one.”

  “It’s a fluid list. The timeline isn’t the point, it’s the goals.”

  I want to crawl in a hole right now.