The bell rang above the glass front door.
He looked up, eyes pinching together.
“You,” the blond said sternly, cat walking her pink heels across the room with authoritative steps that clacked against the cement floor.
He straightened up. “Hi Tasha.”
“Don’t hi Tasha me!” she snapped, coming to an abrupt halt in front of the glass case. She folded her arms across the white jacket setting off her eyes. “Do you get off on ruining people’s lives? Is that it?”
Ben’s insides twisted with her high volume. Doug was in the back and in one of his shit-storm moods today. “Not exactly.”
“Well, try telling that to Mandy.” Tasha leaned closer and, thankfully, lowered her voice. “Do you know she hasn’t had a single bowel movement since the morning of the party because of you?”
He opened his mouth but nothing came out. Horror clung to his features with abrasive claws.
“And now look what you’ve done to my poor little Brooke!” She nearly broke into tears. “She’s homeless and her family hates her.”
“She’s not homeless.”
Tasha jettisoned a finger into his face. “Don’t even try calling that love shack of yours a home! I don’t care how many Yankee Candles you have, that place is not her home and you know it!”
He shot a finger into the air. “Although, I do have a fireplace and Scrabble, which is nice in the wintertime.”
Her face went eerily blank. “Are you fucking with me?”
He rapidly shook his head. “No.”
Tasha slammed a fist down onto the glass case, rattling the occupants inside and making Ben jump. “This isn’t a joke, asshole!”
“Whoa!” He held his hands out. “I think you are starting to let your imagination run away on you, Tasha. Things will get better, and her family doesn’t hate her. She can move back in with them anytime she wants and you know it.”
She snapped her fingers and then pointed at him. “Mandy has offered to take Brooke back as a roommate, but not if you are around!” She fought herself for composure, lowering her accusatory index finger and softening her tone. “Listen Ben, I know it may not be in your nature, but you know the right thing to do here is to back the fuck off and leave her alone.”
“She came to me!”
“Because she has nowhere else to go, you dumb-fuck, tattooed idiot!”
Ben opened his mouth to give her a piece of his mind when Doug blasted through the black curtain behind him like a pissed off bull.
Tasha straightened her coat. “If you really want to help get her life back on track there’s only one thing you can do.” She didn’t dignify waiting for a response and whirled on her heels, stomping back out the front door with the same ferocity she had coming in.
Ben watched her vanish around the corner, his pulse pounding in his ears. Tasha was right and he knew it. The scoreboard does not lie. So far, he had done nothing but screw things up for Brooke.
“You must think money grows in that cash register over night.”
Ben’s ears lowered at the sound of Doug’s voice. Ben stared out the front window like he hadn’t heard him, wishing he was anywhere but here. Tasha’s words drove Doug into the far corners of his mind, needling him with her sharp tone. She was right. And so was Will. Brooke deserved better. He had come into Brooke’s life like a black cloud, casting gloom and doom over her everywhere she went.
“Do you think those little green bills multiply like Gremlins when they get wet?”
Ben finally turned to face him. “Do you need a nap, Doug? You sound cranky.”
Doug stepped into Ben’s face. “What I need is for you to do your job.” He pointed to the entrance. “And letting people walk out that door without ink is not doing your job!”
Ben cringed as Doug’s breath washed over him in a stale wave of hardboiled eggs and strawberry protein shakes. “She didn’t want a tat,” he replied, bumping Doug’s shoulder as he brushed past.
“You have to make her want one, Ben!” He followed him to the other glass counter with portfolios of the shop’s best work neatly displayed inside. “Did you already forget our little talk about being a salesman?”
“How could I ever forget such a compelling speech?” Ben grumbled, sucking on his straw again.
Doug laughed, gesturing with his muscular hands. “You couldn’t sell hamsters to a science fair!”
Ben frowned, his drink choking as it ran dry. “I’m not sure that makes any sense.”
“I’ll tell you what doesn’t make any sense, paying someone who doesn’t do what we ask.”
“Obviously, Janna doesn’t feel the same way because she’s still happily paying me.”
Doug stepped closer and spoke through clenched teeth. “Things are going to change around here and soon. If I were you I’d up my game because I aim to take a larger role in shaping the future of this company.”
“Won’t that cut into your gym time?”
Doug pointed a meaty finger at him that reminded Ben of Tasha. “I’m not playing, Ben.”
“You know what, Doug? Bottom line is I don’t work for you, I work for Janna. This is her business and, therefore, I answer to her. Not you.”
Red splotches broke out across Doug’s face and neck. His lips puckered.
Ben struck while the iron was hot. “If you don’t like the way I do things around here, talk to Janna. Otherwise, stay off my back.”
Doug balled his hands into fists. Veins popped out in his massive biceps, wrinkled with time. “You really are a cocky motherfucker, you know that?”
Ben laughed. “Why? Because I don’t take shit from assholes.”
Doug stood speechless. “You calling me an asshole?”
“Do you really need me to answer that or are you just buying some time to come up with something witty to say back? Because I know you heard me.”
“You cocky sonofa…”
Doug trailed off when the bell rang over the front door and their UPS driver walked in with three boxes in her arms. Ben released a pent-up breath, literally saved by the bell, and rushed over to help her lighten the load.
***
Brooke fumbled the key for Ben’s apartment from her purse and held it in her hand, a foiled paper plate of chocolate chip cupcakes balancing in her other. It was quiet on the other side of the door. She didn’t know if he was home from work or not but decided to knock instead of using the key. It would feel weird if he was home. A little too casual.
Footsteps on the other side of the door injected a shot of adrenaline into her pulse rate. When he opened the door, his face made her heart break into a full on stampede.
“Why didn’t you use the key?”
“I don’t know.”
He stared at her for a moment and stepped off to the side. She came in and slipped her purse onto a chair as he shut the door, SportsCenter blaring on the TV.
“I brought you some cupcakes I made,” she said, setting them on the kitchen counter.
“Oh, thanks.”
Her eyes flickered to his. “Oh, that’s right, you don’t like sweets do you?”
“Not so much.”
She pulled back the foil and held one out, getting chocolate frosting on her thumb. “Just try one bite.”
“Maybe later.”
“Come on.”
A defeated sigh passed his lips. He took the cupcake, examining it like it was a crime scene, and took a reserved bite. His jaws chewed slowly, trying to find their rhythm.
She watched him through confident eyes, knowing that no one could deny her sugary goodness.
His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. He handed it back to her. “Not bad.”
“Not bad?” She took it back and checked to make sure it wasn’t filled with worms. “You don’t like it?”
He lifted a shoulder to an ear. “It’s all right.”
“Just all right? It has chocolate chip cookie dough in the middle!”
“Nice.”
&
nbsp; “That’s it,” she grumbled, returning the cupcake to the plate. “Now I’m going to have to bring out the big guns.”
His face brightened. “You’re going to take your shirt off?”
“No, pervert, I was talking about my homemade French Silk pie. You will not be able to resist its creamy richness.”
“I’ll pass.”
She rested her hands on her hips. “Well, this is a match made in hell.”
He sat down on the couch and kicked his feet up. “What’s that?”
“Nothing.” She came around and joined him on the couch, watching him ignore her by watching TV. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head and turned down the TV. “Nothing. Long day at work.”
“What happened?”
“Oh, fucking Doug. Guy drives me crazy.”
“Why? What’d he do this time?”
“Just more of the same old shit. I’m trying to shake it off.”
She leaned back and crossed her legs. “I’ve been thinking.”
“Yeah?”
“I think we should go over to my parents’ and straighten them out.”
He turned to her with a scrunched face. “Straighten them out?”
She took his hand. “Tell them this is the way it’s going to be and they best get used to it.”
“Going to be?”
“Yeah, ya know, you and me. Together.”
He casually pulled his hand away to join his other in his lap. “So we’re together now, huh?”
Her face dropped with her spirits. “What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Then why are you acting so weird?”
“I’m not.”
“I thought you’d be…” A short blast of air burst from her lips as her puzzlement deepened. She glanced down the hallway to the bedroom where her box of things was sitting on the floor next to his dresser. “Do you want me to leave? Because I can go.”
“No.”
She studied his eyes that refused to make contact with her. “I don’t want to make things weird.”
His somber gaze finally found her. “Maybe it would be best.”
“Best if what? I left?”
He twisted his fingers in his lap without responding.
“Oh my God,” she muttered. “You’re one of those hot and cold guys, aren’t you?”
He turned away.
“Do you have violent mood swings? High one minute, lower than dirt the next?”
“No.”
“Tell me about your meds.”
“I’m not on meds.”
“Then why are you acting so weird?”
Ben scooted further away. “Maybe I just don’t want to be responsible for ruining your life. Maybe I don’t want to be the one who reminds you of the worst decision you ever made.”
A sharp laugh shot from her lips. “Honey, if you think this is the worst decision I’ve ever made, then you don’t know me at all.”
“You’re right, I don’t.”
Creases carved through her forehead like it was made of clay. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“How many other guys have you slept with in a closet before?”
Brooke sharpened her gaze, heart battering her ribcage. “Walk-in or hall?”
He sighed. “I’m just not in the position to settle down right now.”
She switched out her legs, swinging a flour-covered Nike through the air, studying him through narrow slits. “Who have you been talking to?”
“No one.”
“You are a terrible liar.”
“I’m not lying.”
Brooke tightened her steady gaze, her foot swinging faster. “Did you talk to Mandy?”
“No.”
She inhaled sharply and threw a hand over her heart. “Did my dad find you?”
“No!”
Brooke took her time evaluating his answers like a patient detective in an interrogation room with one light and cold concrete walls. “It was Tasha, wasn’t it?”
Ben hedged before answering. “No.”
“What’d she say to you?”
He stared straight ahead, trying to hang onto an unreadable face.
“Tell me what she said.”
Ben pulled his red Asics off the coffee table and sat up straighter. “She came into the shop today and said…Mandy would take you back.”
Brooke screwed her face up. “I already know, and I’m not going back there! Should I go over to my ex-boyfriend’s place for dinner next? That won’t be awkward or anything.”
“Tasha said Mandy will take you back if…”
“If what?”
“If I’m not in the picture.”
She sighed. “I am not going anywhere and y’all best get used to it.”
He rested his feet on the coffee table again. “Suit yourself, sassafrass. Just remember I tried to warn ya.”
She leaned against him and rubbed his arm, her fingers melting with his warmth. Goose bumps rippled across his colorful skin. “Promise me you’ll do what you want to do and not what anyone else wants you to do, because that’s what I decided I’m going to do from here on out.”
He found her eyes and dove in. “I promise.”
“Good. Now, kiss me like you mean it.”
He lifted her chin with two fingers and studied every square inch of her face before following her orders to the tee. He kissed her hard, cradling her cheeks in his hands and directing her movements to compliment his.
She pulled away, searching for the breath he had just made off with. “Now, that’s more like it.”
“In the end, I just want to do what’s best for you.”
The touch of a smile curled the corners of her lips. “I know you do, sweetie, and that’s why I want to stay here.”
“But you still have to make good with your parents.”
“I know,” she groaned.
“You can’t let that fester or it will leave a scar.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Is this more Abraham Lincoln?”
He smiled, his shiny rows of teeth winking at her. “So does this mean you’re my girlfriend now?”
“You should quit while you’re ahead.”
He leaned back into the couch and stretched out. “So what do you want to do tonight?”
“I don’t know. Wanna order some pizza and watch a movie?”
He clapped his hands together one time. “Yes! What should we watch?”
“What do you have? Or dare I ask?”
He pointed to the Blu-rays lining two shelves of the narrow TV stand. “I don’t know if you’re going to like any of that stuff. We can go rent something.”
Her cell vibrated in her purse. She got up to track it down. “Tasha,” she grumbled, studying the screen.
“If she’s outside with a gun I’m going out the window.”
Brooke read the text. “She wants to go out tonight.”
Ben twisted around. “If you want to go out, that’s cool. We can do movies some other time, just don’t forget your key.”
She dropped the phone to her side and gave him puppy dog eyes. “Awe, that’s so sweet. You really don’t mind?”
“No.”
She texted Tasha back and slipped the cell into her purse. “Okay, I’m going to take a quick shower and get going,” she said, heading for the bedroom.
Ben watched her go, his mouth agape. “Kay,” he said, turning up the TV.
She popped back out of the bedroom and started laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“I’m not ditching out on movie night, silly.”
He sent an eyebrow bending into the middle of his forehead. “You’re not?”
“You almost started crying!”
Ben rolled his eyes and turned back to SportsCenter. “Not even close.”
“Oh whatever! You get so depressed if I’m not around.”
“God, I can’t stand you.”
She meandered closer, seductively
nibbling on her lower lip. “Don’t be mad. You can’t help it if it you’re needy.”
His hand caught her wrist and pulled her to him. She squealed with laughter and tried to escape. He laid her across his lap and stared into her eyes, brushing long strands of hair from her devilish grin. “I’m not needy.”
“I know,” she softly replied, pulling him to her lips and breathing him in like air she would surely die without.
He pulled away. “Although, I do need food.”
“Quit talking.” She pulled him back to her lips and picked up where they had left off.
***
His movie collection was horrible. Their tastes were at opposite ends of the spectrum. He liked The Strangers and she loved Knocked Up. His movies had gratuitous violence, hers gratuitous sex. It could literally take them longer to decide on a movie to watch than actually watching the movie.
She turned to find him looking at her from the couch. “This is never going to work.”
“What’s never going to work?”
“You and I.” She held up a movie. “30 Days of Night? Really?”
“That’s a great movie.”
She held up another. “28 Weeks Later? Why do all of your movies start with numbers?”
He shrugged, his black t-shirt hugging his muscular shoulders. “Hey, that zombie shit could really go down someday and the more you know…the better chance you’ll have of surviving.”
“I don’t know if I’m going to survive the night,” she grumbled, slipping the movies back onto the shelf and pulling another out.
“I think you’ll do all right,” he said with a grin.
She hit eject on the Blu-ray player and put a disc in.
“You seriously want to watch The Shining? Because we can go rent something else.”
She pulled her shorts up and plopped down onto the couch next to him. “I’m too tired to leave, plus the pizza will be here soon.”
Brooke & Ben: Before Fate Interrupted Page 18
