I pick up a magazine on the table and begin absently flipping through the pages when I hear voices around the corner. I go on high alert and stand, tip-toeing a bit closer when I hear Jill’s name being spoken in the conversation.
“Yes, that guy, the tattooed one with the missing leg!”
They both giggle and shush each other at the same time.
“Well, from what I heard, what he’s missing from one leg, he makes up with another. If you know what I mean!” Another round of giggles ensues, and I roll my eyes at their immaturity. Really, they’re gossiping about my dick? My irritation comes to a screeching halt when I hear Jill’s name again.
“Anyway, I heard Jill tell Maria that if he comes in here again that she wants nothing to do with him. Maria can handle any and all business with him.”
“But why? One leg or not, the guy is smoking hot.”
“Something about having had enough damaged goods in her life and doesn’t need anymore.”
My heart lurches in my chest, and the blood in my veins turns icy cold as it runs through my body, every inch of my skin hardening at what I just heard. She thinks I’m damaged goods? I shake my head in disbelief. She seemed totally fine with me, and my leg, the other night. Was it all an act? I can’t stand to listen to another word these women are whispering.
I take a step backward and move to spin around and slam right into a side-table, the potted plant on it smashing to the ground. Fuck me and my goddamn leg that doesn’t feel a thing! Before I can escape, the gossiping girls appear from around the corner, their expressions changing from wonder to shock as they recognize me. I’m quite sure, based on the looks on both of their faces, they realize I just heard every word they’ve said.
They both begin apologizing and move to help with the plant, but I place my hand out flat. “Just stop.” They comply instantly and freeze. Without another word to them, I spin on my heel and leave the building as quickly as I arrived.
My blood, moments ago cold as ice from the words I overheard between the two women at the spa, is now flowing like lava through my veins as my rage grows. Damaged fucking goods? I shake my head in disgust. Not at her, but at myself. For believing that a woman like Jill saw past my disability to see the man that I am. Who the hell was I kidding? Pieces of me are missing. Just call me Broken Benjamin. A woman liked her deserves someone whole.
I reach my car and yank the door open, throwing myself behind the driver’s seat. I stare at the concrete wall in front of me and have a sudden urge to start the engine, put the car in reverse, and then plow forward until I smash head-on into its hard surface. Closing my eyes, I shake my head again. I haven’t had dark thoughts like these in a very long time. If caring for a woman drives me to thoughts like this, maybe her not wanting me is for the best.
Banging my hands on the steering wheel, I let out a roar of frustration. It doesn’t help relieve one bit of the pain that now seems to be clenching my heart. How is it possible after knowing this woman for only a few short weeks that I could feel so thoroughly gutted? I lay my head on the steering wheel in defeat, already knowing the answer to my own question but trying in vain to push it to the recesses of my mind. I need to force her and whatever I was feeling to the very back corner of my heart and forget about her. Forget her smile, the silkiness of her skin under my fingers, her fresh rain scent, the way she felt under me, and especially how it felt when she trailed her fingers over me.
I lift my head and try to shake it clear. Darkness creeps in along the edges of my brain, and I know I need to move before it takes over completely. I start the car and exit the garage, paying the attendant as I do. I drive aimlessly for an hour and then head back to the hotel. Grabbing my cell phone off the passenger seat, I tell Siri to call Drew. Seconds later, his voice sounds on the other end.
“Benny, how’d it go?” He’s upbeat and eager to hear my news, but I’m in no mood for small talk.
“Meet me at the bar in ten.” I hit end without waiting for a response. I’m sure that alone will tell him what he needs to know.
Traffic is heavier now, so it’s another fifteen minutes before I walk in and see him sitting on the far end. He’s got a drink in his hand and another waiting on the bar in front of the stool beside him. I slide onto it, grab what I know will be whiskey, and drink it in two long gulps. He doesn’t say a thing, just lifts a finger and motions for the bartender to bring another. He does. Quickly. I tell him to leave the bottle. After a nod from my brother, he does and then scurries away.
We sit in silence for a few very long minutes before either one of us says anything. He finally breaks and starts the conversation. “You want to talk about it?”
“Not really.” I drain my second glass of whiskey and grab the bottle to pour myself another.
“So, am I just supposed to sit here and watch you get fucked up? Because, really, I’ve got a few more important things I could be doing right now.”
I turn my head and stare at him, my insides turning black with anger. “Can you just sit here with me and be my goddamn brother? If I want to get my feelings out, I’ll call a fucking counselor.”
He stares right back at me, reaches for the bottle to pour himself another drink, and shifts back on his stool, his gaze never leaving mine. “I’ll sit here all damn night if you need me to, Ben, but I can’t read your mind.”
“She said I’m damaged goods,” I spit out and turn my head to break our eye contact, heat flaring in my cheeks.
“What?” His glass slams down on the bar, and I hear liquid slosh out and land on the bar. “She fucking said that to you?”
I swallow my embarrassment and turn my attention back to him. “Not directly.”
“Wait, what?” His brow creases as his head cocks to one side.
“I overheard some of her staff talking. They apparently are under orders to make sure I’m kept clear of Ms. Baldwin and mentioned it was because I’m damaged goods.” My brows raise matter-of-factly as I finish explaining.
He’s speechless for several long minutes before finally blowing out a long breath. “I don’t know what to say to that.”
“I do.” I take a swig from my glass and slam it down. The warm liquid is starting to turn the black edges of my brain to gray and I like it. “Fuck her.”
“Don’t you think you should talk to her?”
I watch as he uses a napkin to wipe up the whiskey he spilled a moment ago. “What the fuck for? More insults? More fake smiles? No thanks.” I shake my head and let more of the warm liquid slide down my throat.
“Ben, you know how gossip is. Shit gets misconstrued, made up, twisted, and honestly, this doesn’t sound like the Jill I met. I don’t take her for someone to dismiss another over a disability, let alone speak about it to others.”
I shrug. I’m tired of talking about this shit. “Whatever. I’ve been calling her for days. She’s obviously made her choice.”
“So, now what?”
“What do you mean?” I glance over at him.
“What’s your plan? Are we ditching the Serenity deal?”
Ah, I knew business was going to play into this sooner or later. It always does with my type A, controlling as hell brother. I scoff. “My plan is to sit here and get fucked up. Then maybe I’ll pick up the first gorgeous woman I see, bring her up to a suite, and fuck Jill out of my system.” I grin wickedly at him, pretending that’s all I would actually need to forget a woman like Jill, that I even want to be with another woman, and then continue. “You want Serenity still; it’s all yours. But I’m out.”
“I could give two shits about the deal, Ben. It’s not like we need the goddamn money. If you’re out, I’m out.” He takes a sip of his drink and keeps talking. “But instead of wasting away here, why don’t you head out to my place in the Hamptons? It’s empty, and its quiet. You can do whatever the hell you need to for a few days.”
I cock my head in his direction and consider his suggestion. Getting out of this city, away from my loft that still ca
rries her lingering scent, to stare at the shore for a few days while I shake her out of my system actually seems like a good idea. “Okay.”
“Really?” He’s surprised and I don’t blame him. I’m not usually this agreeable.
“Sure. What the fuck else have I got to do?” I take another drink and then say quietly, “My bed is haunted with her scent. I’m not ready to deal with that yet.”
His hand reaches out and clasps around my arm in a tight, knowing grip. “Let me get David to drive you. He’s got my car outside and waiting for me anyway. I’ll take a cab home.”
“Right now?” I question in surprise.
“Bring the damn bottle with you if you need to, Benny. Let’s just get you the hell out of here.”
I roll over on the couch, my arm smacking into the empty whiskey bottle sitting on the nearby coffee table and it crashes to the floor. I sit up, grabbing my forehead as I do, and listen. Did I just hear the doorbell ring? I stand, my leg stiff as fucking hell from being in the prosthetic all night, and glance out the window. It’s pouring and the sky is a dark, turbulent gray, which matches my mood perfectly.
I turn my head abruptly again when I hear loud knocking against the door. Okay, so I’m not crazy. But the who the hell would be crazy enough to come out here in the middle of a fucking raging storm? I stride to the door and yank it open, not bothering to look through the peephole first, and my mouth falls open.
Standing before me, looking like a drowned rat, is a shivering Jill. I stare at her for a long moment, trying to decide if I just want to slam the door in her face, but of course, I can’t. No matter how pissed off and hurt I am over what she said, I’m not a fucking asshole, and I’m not going to leave her standing in the freezing rain. I step to the side and motion for her to come in. “What are you doing here, Jill?”
Chapter 9
Jill – 24 hours earlier
The knock on my office door startles me. Every time there is a knock, I am afraid that Ben will be on the other side of it. Or maybe I am secretly hoping that it’s him. “Yes?” I say out loud.
The door opens, and Aisha peeks her head around the corner. “Hey, Jill, you got a minute?”
I smile. “Sure, come in.”
Aisha steps into my office, closely followed by Anna. The two of them stand before me as if they are students in front of the principal. I raise a brow. “Did something break?”
They share a look, one that I don’t like.
“Okay, what broke?”
“Nothing broke,” Anna mutters. “But we did kind of mess up.”
I frown. “Sorry, ladies, I am very busy right now, so can you please spit it out?” My voice is laced in irritation I can’t hide.
They share yet another look. “We were talking in the hall, and we think—no, we know that he heard us.”
“What in the world are you talking about?”
Another shared look.
“Will the two of you stop doing that?” I bark.
Anna bites her lip. “We were talking about you and Mr. Sapphire… And, well, we may have been joking a little bit and he overheard us,” Aisha says.
My stomach drops.
“I swear, we didn’t know he was there,” Anna adds.
My nostrils flare involuntarily as I press my lips tightly together. I close my eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and index finger in an attempt to reign in my temper. “Where is Mr. Sapphire now? And don’t you dare share another damn look.”
“He left.”
“He left?”
“And what exactly was said that upset him so?”
Both of their faces scrunch up, and I already know that I am not going to like what I am about to be told. “Well, I was telling Aisha that I overheard you tell Maria that she was to deal with Ben—um, I mean, Mr. Sapphire—and she asked me why. So, I told her that you said you were tired of damaged goods.”
Holy fuck. Oh my God. He thinks that I called him damaged goods?
“The fact that you two know better than to talk trash in my place of business is one thing, and I promise you two now that I will not tolerate this if it happens again.”
Aisha and Anna nod.
“Not that it is any of your business, but you were grossly mistaken. What I actually told Maria is that Ben is too good to be dealing with damaged goods. Me being said damaged goods.”
Anna bites her lip, and I see tears glistening in her eyes. “We are really sorry. We promise, we won’t ever do anything like this again.”
Just imagining how he must have felt when he heard them talk like that makes me sick to my stomach. “See to it that it doesn’t. I wasn’t kidding. Anything like this again and I will not hesitate to fire you on the spot.”
Their eyes widen.
“Understood?”
They nod in unison.
I wave at the door, indicating for them to leave, which they do, fast and with their tails between their legs. I pick up my cell and scroll quickly to his number. It rings and rings and rings. Fuck. No answer. I punch in a text, and seconds later, Raeva responds, informing me that she is on her way with a car.
I try Ben again, but this time it doesn’t even ring; it goes straight to voicemail. Ugh. I grab my keys and my purse and head to the front of the building so that I won’t waste any more time than I need to. I pace the pavement in front of Serenity, stewing, a mixture of anger and anguish overflowing me in waves. People who pass me give me appraising looks, but I don’t even care. A town car pulls over just ten minutes after I texted Raeva, and I recognize it to be one of the Kingsley vehicles. Raeva’s driver-slash-security guard, Simon, gets out and opens the door for me. I smile at him and thank him as I slide into the car next to her.
“What is the emergency? Where are we headed?” she asks.
“Ben’s place.”
She raises her brow but instructs Simon to head to Ben’s place.
“Now, what the hell is going on?”
I am still shaking with anger when I tell her everything Aisha and Anna told me.
“Shit,” she says when I am done talking.
“I know.”
Raeva leans in and instructs Simon to step on it. “Yes, ma’am.”
We pull in front of Ben’s place just minutes later, and I practically fly out of the car before we have even come to a full stop. “Wait for me, please,” I yell over my shoulder.
I run up to the elevator across from the gym and press the button. I wait a beat and press again. Damn it. I pull my cell from my pocket and try to dial his number again, knowing that he won’t answer, but still, I try.
I sigh as I slide the phone back into my pocket. I turn around and see that the gym is open. Maybe he’s there? I stride over to the gym entrance and walk to the front desk. A pretty redhead is on the phone, giving someone a piece of her mind. My first thought is that I like this girl. She’s feisty. She smiles and holds up a finger before finishing up the call.
“Hi, my name is Stacy. Welcome to Baker-Landon-Rose Memorial Gym. How can I help you today?” she asks me.
I sheepishly smile at her. “Hi, I’m Jill. I am actually looking for Ben.”
She looks me over. “Hmmm, so you’re Jill, huh?” she says with a smirk. “I’ve got to hand it to him; he’s got excellent taste.”
I feel my cheeks redden, and I’m not sure if it’s the compliment, the fact that she clearly has heard about me, or both.
“Oh, and humble, too. Score,” she jokes.
I smile shyly at her, not quite knowing what to say.
“I’m sorry, Ben isn’t here. He called earlier to say that he was going to be away for a few days. I assumed he was going to be out of town with you.”
I’m not sure why that surprises me. But, also, now I am stuck. How am I going to find him? I thank Stacy for her time and make my way back to the car. Simon sees me coming and comes around to open the door. I slide next to Rae feeling defeated. I sigh loudly.
“Not home?” she ask
s.
“Nope, and not at the gym either. The girl at the front desk told me that he is going to be out of town for a bit.”
I drop my head backwards. “What am I going to do now? I can’t bear the thought of him thinking that I think of him as anything but amazing.”
We drive home in silence, and when we get to the penthouse, I am not in the mood to talk to anyone. I kick off my shoes and crawl into bed, not even bothering to take of my clothes. I wrap myself in the duvet like a little caterpillar in a cocoon. I try to call Ben once more, but it goes straight to voicemail again. So, I punch in a text, asking him to please call me. I sigh and bury my face in the pillow. And I don’t emerge till morning…
Loud knocking on my bedroom door has me sitting straight up.
“Wake up, sleepyhead.”
I groan. “What do you want, Rae?”
“Open the door, Jillybean. We have a phone call to make.”
I walk to the door and flip the lock then practically crawl back to the bed.
“Really? You didn’t even bother undressing?” Rae says as she wrinkles her nose.
“Are you here just to lecture me, Mom?” I say a little more irritated than I intended.
“Testy this morning, are we?”
‘I’m sorry, Rae. I’m just feeling like crap. I still have not been able to reach Ben or heard back from him, and I don’t know what to do.”
“Well, luckily for you, your person is brilliant,” she says with a triumphant smirk.
I raise a brow. “That a fact?”
“Yup.”
“And what brilliant idea do you have, pray tell?”
“I know how to find Ben…”
Breaking Benjamin Page 8
