Bentley_Vested Interest
Page 4
I studied him. He was taller than I was, and broad, his muscles rippling under his shirt. He seemed like a decent guy. I hated it in the dorm, and I could afford to live alone, but I wanted the experience of living with other people.
“At least come have coffee with me and we can get to know each other before you say no.”
“Sure.”
I cleared my throat. He turned, arms crossed, and not a glimmer of his usual humor in his eyes. He was seriously pissed.
I started to speak, and he held up his hand, stopping me.
“Why did you hire me?”
I sat down at my desk with a sigh. “Because you’re my best friend, and I trust you.”
“You trust me?”
“Totally. There’s no question about it. You and Maddox are family to me.”
“You let Maddox handle all your finances. Millions of dollars. You listen to what he says. No questions asked.”
“Of course I do. He knows what he’s talking about.”
He stormed toward me, stopping in front of my desk. He leaned on the thick wood, hands balled into fists. “And I fucking don’t?”
“I never said that.”
He tossed a white envelope on my desk.
“What’s that?”
“My resignation.”
I was horrified, and I pushed the envelope back his way. “I’m not accepting it. Aiden, all I did was go for coffee.”
“You deliberately didn’t tell me where you were going this morning. You didn’t trust me with that information. I’m supposedly your right hand, and the head of your security.”
“It was coffee. No one is going to notice if I go for coffee.”
“That’s not your decision to make.”
“Aiden—”
“Bentley,” he interrupted me. “Someone is watching you. Someone knows your movements. All they need to see is a pattern. You sneaking out to meet your little chippie for coffee is going to be noticed. It’s a fucking invitation for someone to get to you.”
“Don’t call her that.”
“Jesus, you don’t even know her.”
“Sort of the point of taking her on a date—to get to know her.”
“Emaline Harris,” he stated. “Born in Ontario. Parents deceased. One sibling. Lives alone. No arrests, or convictions. Works part-time in Al’s Coffee Shop, and attends Toronto School of Design.”
“Is that all you got?” I asked dryly.
“I was in a coffee shop. I’ll have more by the end of the day.”
I rolled my eyes at his matter-of-fact tone. Even if I told him not to dig, he would do it anyway.
“Those are just facts. That’s not getting to know her.”
“I’ll know more, once I check deeper.”
“Leave it alone,” I warned.
He shut his eyes as he blew out a long breath. “You’re missing the point.”
“Which is?”
He tossed a picture on my desk, taken of me yesterday, watching Emmy walk away. She was out of focus, but I recognized her sweater. Did they see me talking to her?
“Fuck.”
He bent close, his voice low. “Did you think about the fact if you’re being watched, perhaps they’ll watch her, too? If I can find those facts in twenty minutes, so can they.”
I felt myself blanch under his stare. I hadn’t thought of that. All I had thought of was seeing her again.
“I’m supposed to take her out. On Friday.” I shook my head, reaching for my phone. “Damn it. I’ll cancel.”
“Stop.”
I met Aiden’s gaze. Some of the anger had gone, but he was still concerned.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t see her, Bent. I’m asking you to be careful. I’m asking you to trust me to do my job.”
“Like going on a date with a chaperone will be so much fun for her. How do I explain it? My security thinks I may be in danger, and therefore you are, as well. Can I see you again tomorrow?” I snapped.
He shrugged. “I can be discreet. All you have to tell her is I’m around.” He grinned. “It’s not like I want to sit at the table and watch you make kissy faces at her.”
“I don’t plan on making kissy faces at her.”
“Like you didn’t plan on giving her your tie? Fuck sake, Bent. That tie was five hundred bucks. I was with you when you bought it. It took me ten minutes to convince you the color wasn’t ‘over-the-top’.”
I shrugged, not giving a shit about how much the tie cost. I had a hundred more at home. And it looked cute on her.
“There’s something about her, Aiden. I want to get to know her. She . . .”
“She what?”
“She makes me laugh. She doesn’t give a shit about all this . . . stuff.” I indicated the luxurious office around us. “She would have no idea how expensive the tie was I gave her.”
He studied me for a moment. I pushed the envelope toward him again. “Don’t do this, Aiden, please. I’m asking as your friend. Not your boss.”
“On one condition. You stop doing shit like today and let me do my job. I’m with you when you’re out of the office or the house. Plus, I’m adding more cameras around the house.”
I wanted to groan and tell him to forget it. But I knew if I did, he was serious. He would walk away.
“Discreet.”
“My middle name.”
“Funny, I thought it was Joseph.”
“Fuck you.”
“You first.”
He chuckled at our usual banter, then grew serious again. “I mean it, Bent. Until we figure out who took the picture, and what they want, we need to take this situation seriously.”
I looked down at the picture again. I would have to tell her and give her the choice. It wouldn’t be fair otherwise. The thought of her being in danger, because of me, made me feel ill.
I held out my hand. “Deal. Now take back your fucking resignation. Shred it.”
He shook my hand, and picked up the envelope, sliding it into the shedder.
He sat down in front of my desk. “So. Where are we going on Friday?”
Chapter 5
Emmy
I flipped through my notes, finally finding the reference I was looking for. As I was transcribing it into my assignment, a body slid into the chair next to me. I didn’t have to look up to know who it was.
“Hey, Cami.”
“Hi, yourself.”
With a grin, I glanced at my best friend, Cami Wilson. Her rich brown hair was thick and wavy, trailing past her shoulders, and today she sported purple stripes. I never knew what color they’d be next. She grinned back at me, grabbing one of my carrot sticks, chomping away. Her green eyes danced with mischief the way they always did when she was planning something. Cami was always planning something.
“Friday,” she drawled. “I got us complimentary passes to the Art Gallery for the new exhibit. There’s a reception too, so free food and booze! And hey—that’s not your usual tie with that outfit. Is it new?”
Normally, I’d be excited. I loved going to the art gallery, but I couldn’t indulge very often, with my limited budget. I enjoyed walking around on free Wednesday evenings, but it didn’t include the special exhibitions.
“I can’t go.”
She frowned, mid-chomp. “What do you mean you can’t go? It’s the art gallery, Emmy. You can study on Saturday.”
“I’m not studying. I–I have a date.”
My announcement got her attention. She leaned forward, green eyes huge with curiosity.
“You have a date? With who? Oh God, tell me you didn’t finally say yes to that awful Roger guy who keeps pestering you.”
I scrunched my nose. “Eww. No. I, ah, met a guy at the coffee shop the other morning. He came back today and we talked. He asked me out.”
“Are you nuts? You’re going out with a stranger? Emmy, that could be dangerous!”
I patted her hand. “He is perfectly safe.”
“How do you know?”
&nbs
p; I sighed and showed her my laptop. “I checked him out.”
She gaped at the screen, then me. “That is who asked you out? Bentley Ridge of BAM?”
Yes.”
Her eyes narrowed back on the tie, then to the screen. “Are you wearing his tie?”
I chuckled because of course she would notice a detail like that. She always did.
“I couldn’t find my tie this morning.”
“Laundry day?”
“Yes.” I laughed, because that was exactly what he had guessed, too. “Bentley, well, he put this on me as we were saying goodbye.” I looked down, stroking the silk. “It was the sweetest thing ever.”
“Do you have any idea how much a tie like that costs?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“More than your rent.”
“Shit,” I swore under my breath. “I need to give it back.”
“I don’t think he cares if he gave it to you. You might insult him.”
“I can’t keep something so expensive!”
“If he gave it to you, yes you can.”
I mulled over her words. She was probably right, but I was still giving back the tie.
“He has a bodyguard.”
“Really? How exciting!”
“He’s massive. His arms are like tree trunks.”
“Is he coming with you on Friday?”
“Probably. Bentley showed up this morning without him, and he arrived not long after. He looked pretty pissed.”
“Is he cute?”
“Bentley?”
“No, the bodyguard, you idiot. I can see what Bentley looks like.”
“Oh. Um, well, he is very tall and big. He has dark, curly hair, and a beard. His eyes are so unique—one green and one brown, and he has a great smile. Although, he wasn’t smiling much this morning.” I tapped on my keyboard and found a picture of Aiden with Bentley. “That’s him.”
She stared at the screen. “My dream come to life,” she muttered. “Holy shit, he is hot. Look at that tattoo on his arm.” She peered at the screen. “Are both arms done?”
I had to think, then shook my head. “No, just the one.”
“Hmm. I wonder what it signifies.”
I looked at the picture. He was good-looking, but I preferred Bentley. He was classically handsome, while Aiden had a bad boy look about him. Cami always liked bad boys.
“I don’t know,” I murmured. “I didn’t ask.”
“I might have to have find out.”
I chuckled as she continued to stare at the screen.
“Should I get you a napkin for your drool?”
Rolling her eyes, she ignored my remark and pushed my computer back to me. “Where are you going on Friday?”
“I don’t know. He promised it wouldn’t be anywhere too fancy. I told him I didn’t have the right kind of dress to go to the places I think he’s accustomed to. He said he wouldn’t wear a suit, but I think it will still be far nicer than I’m used to.”
“Come over tonight. Between the three of us, we’ll figure something out.”
“I doubt Dee wants me rifling through her closet.”
Cami waved her hand. “She won’t mind at all. She’ll be thrilled to help.”
My heart warmed thinking of Deidre, Cami’s older sister. The two of them were family to me. Cami and I had hit it off right away when she came to Al’s for coffee one day. We started talking and that was that. We ended up at the same school, later in life, but different courses. We were in the same business classes, though, and helped each other get through them. We were a great team.
“Okay, I’ll come over later.”
She reached for another carrot. “Great.”
**
Dee nodded in satisfaction. “That one, Emmy. You look great.”
I studied myself in the mirror. I was wearing a brown skirt of mine, and a pretty green blouse from Dee. It was frilly and girly, and I loved it. Cami had added a thick shawl to keep me warm in tones of green and taupe. It was pretty and feminine.
“Wear your ankle boots, and put your hair up,” Cami advised.
“Okay.”
I slipped out of the outfit, putting my school clothes back on, minus the tie. It was safe at home in a drawer. I looked up the name of the tie maker, and Cami was right. It cost more than the rent on my apartment. I would give it back to Bentley on Friday.
I sat down, sipping the tea Dee slid in front of me.
“I put your stuff in the dryer and threw in the second load.”
“Thank you.”
Dee and Cami had the luxury of a small stacking washer and dryer in their apartment. The previous tenant was moving into a house and sold them at a low price. They let me use them; although, I took the big stuff like sheets and towels to the laundromat. I could sit and study while my laundry went through the cycles.
Cami took a seat, placing a bowl of grapes on the table. “They had these on special as I went through the market. I couldn’t resist.”
We all reached for some of the red fruit. They were crisp and sweet on my tongue, and a treat. The budget I lived on didn’t include many luxuries like grapes. Apples were my regular go-to most of the time.
“Delicious,” Dee murmured.
I beamed fondly at her. She was eight years older than Cami and me, but a great deal more mature than her years. When their mother died, she had looked after Cami. Their father had walked away when they were young, remarried, and never bothered with them again. When we became friends, she took me under her wing. She was a sister, a friend, and pseudo mother to us both. She worked in a large law firm as a paralegal, and was the exact opposite of Cami. They both had green eyes, and similar features, but while Cami while had deep brown hair, Dee’s was a strawberry blonde color, straight, and she kept it chin-length. Cami was like the energizer bunny, never sitting still, and free-spirited, while Dee was quiet, serious, and in a constant state of worry. Cami loved designs and mixing fabrics and styles, while Dee was simple. Smart suits for work, and jeans and tees outside. But they were my family, and I loved them.
“Are you nervous?” Dee asked, studying me.
“A little. He’s . . . different.”
She frowned. “Different, how?”
I huffed out a breath. “He’s very serious. Formal. Then suddenly he says or does something sweet or funny. It’s as if he isn’t sure how to act around me.”
“He’s extremely wealthy, and young, really, to have so much responsibility. Maybe he doesn’t know how to act—maybe he’s been too busy working to do much socially.”
Cami snorted. “He dates a lot.”
“What?”
She turned her laptop around so I could see the screen. I stared at the images of him with other women. Lots of other women. They were all beautiful and dressed in expensive gowns. My gaze drifted over to the outfit hanging on the back of the door I would wear to dinner on Friday.
I pushed the laptop back to Cami. “I’m in over my head here aren’t I? I should cancel and go to the gallery with you. I can’t compete with his extravagant lifestyle.”
Dee shot Cami a glare and patted my hand. “Maybe you’re exactly what he needs. Someone real. Dating and being in a relationship are two different things.”
“It’s just a date,” I insisted.
She smiled. “For now.”
I finished my tea, and left. I still had a couple more things to add before I handed in my project. The laptop I had, made everything take longer, but it was all I could afford. I was scouring Kijiji and the internet, hoping to find a cheaper one to upgrade to, but so far, no luck.
When I got home, I hung up the outfit, grabbed a glass of water, and sat down to finish my work. The apartment felt chilly, and I pulled a blanket around my shoulders to stay warm. I worked for a while until I was satisfied, saved everything, and put it on the memory stick. I would send it tomorrow. Unable to help myself, I googled Bentley’s name and looked at the same images as earlier. He was incredibly hands
ome, but as I studied the pictures, I noticed the same thing. His expression. Always serious, stern, and not smiling. There were a few older ones, taken, I presumed, when he was in university, but even then, a smile was rare. In group pictures, he always stood a little separately, as if he were there, but not really part of them. I understood that—I rarely felt part of groups.
I thought of his words earlier. “You make me laugh.”
Maybe he needed that. Maybe what he needed wasn’t glitz and glamour, but someone to make him happy.
I was surprised how much I wanted to be that person for him. Usually, not one to trust people very fast, I found myself trusting him. I wanted to know more about Bentley. Not the businessman I saw in those photos, but the man who slipped his tie over my head and looked almost shy when he stepped back, pleased with his handiwork. I remembered his mischievous grin when he told me he had ditched his bodyguard to come see me.
I glanced at my phone, picked it up, and tapped out a text.
I hoped you survived today. Was Tree Trunk very mad?
He answered immediately.
We worked it out. How was your day?
Good. I finished my project. Picked an outfit for Friday. You promised casual, right?
My heart warmed at his retort.
Casual, yes. You’ll be beautiful. Why are you worried?
I sucked in a deep breath and decided to be truthful.
I might have checked the internet. You go out with a lot of beautiful, elegant women.
I was startled when my phone rang. “Hello?”
“Emmy.” His deep voice greeted me. “Don’t look on the internet.”
“I was curious.”
“Ask me anything. I’ll answer you honestly. Pictures are only that—pictures. I have a lot of friends and business associates who happen to be women. They accompany me to those godawful dinners so I’m not as bored. Simple. We do each other favors.”
“You haven’t been in relationships with any of them?”
“Not for a very long time, no.”
“They all look so lovely,” I admitted, letting my insecurity show.
“They aren’t who I want to spend an evening with. You are.”
His tone was so adamant; I knew he was telling the truth. “Okay.”
“I ate my scones tonight for dinner.”