by Abi Walters
“Do you not understand what I just said, Mia? Max nearly died. He’s arrested. Max got arrested.”
“Where are you right now?” She questioned, rubbing her forehead.
“I’m on my way to the damn station!”
“Don’t say anything. Don’t let Max say anything. Have you contacted the label yet?”
“No.”
“For fuck’s sake, Tyler. You should’ve called them first.”
“Who? Who the hell was I supposed to call? There isn’t a manual for this kind of thing, Mia! I called you.”
She sighed loudly, “Text me what station you’re going to, and I’ll get ahold of one of the lawyers. Fuck, this is going to be a nightmare to handle. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.”
The ended the call abruptly and faced Benson who had an air of amusement around him. She didn’t bother explaining directly to him, and instead let him hear her furious words as she called her boss, Anne and then contacted a lawyer. Mia wasn’t required to go to the station, Anne and the lawyer would handle it all, but Tyler had told her in the text he wanted her to go. She was so angry she told him she’d snap Max’s neck if she was within ten feet of him.
Though she didn’t have to be at the station, she wasn’t entitled to a lazy weekend with Benson any more. She had some major damage control to do. She pulled on a tank top and a pair of shorts, much to Benson’s protests. She was foaming at the mouth as she sat down on the couch with her laptop, huffing as she began to cross reference reports that had surfaced.
Benson pushed her hair to the side and kissed her neck, “You’re cute when you’re working.”
She eased and joked, “Oh, just wait. This is going to be a long night. That little shit has been up to no good all week. I should’ve known something was wrong. Fuck. I’m going to kill him.”
He kissed her neck again and purred in her ear, “Homicide has never been so sexy.”
She laughed, much to Benson’s pleasure, and said, “I’m never going to get any work done if you’re over here kissing me.”
Benson moved around the couch and sat down on the other end, sliding his feet under her bottom, “Fine. If you insist.”
Mia scanned quickly. News of Max was all over Twitter, and he even had his own spot on The Garage. Tyler wouldn’t be happy to see the report on the hellion drummer got a bigger spread than the one given to their show at the Pluto Lounge.
The stream of phone calls took longer than she thought to start. Any other day, she would have loved the work. Any other band, she would have silently thanked them for a break in her spell of boring paperwork. Benson watched with an odd sense of satisfaction as she worked to defuse the situation. The first day he had met her in his conference room, she had been working just as hard. All traces of the hurt in her heart, all the doubt and insecurities that plagued her were gone when she worked. Like a PR machine, she drilled into the phone, cradling it against her neck as her hands danced across the keyboard.
He left the couch once, just to grab his own cellphone. He told himself he wasn’t going to worry about work when he was with Mia, but she was preoccupied with her own duties. After checking and responding to a few business emails, Benson noticed the influx of calls had died down and Mia was left rubbing her forehead. He dropped his phone in his lap and looked at her.
“Tyler doesn’t understand why I’m angry. He thinks I should be more concerned that Max nearly died.”
Benson scowled. Tyler. That kid had been a thorn in his side since day one.
Mia tilted her head and looked at him now, “All he sees is one of his best friends hurt and in trouble. Those guys are my friends, too, but I warned them. I may not be the most skilled person in the industry, but I have managed my share of bands. I’ve dealt with this more times than I’d like to admit. I lived it, Benson.
“You remember that guy from the lounge? I met him when I first came to New York. I was broken from my step-dad and looking for an escape. I fell in with the wrong crowd. Aaron fucked with me. He had me so drunk during the week it was a miracle I made it to class. On the weekends, he’d slip me ecstasy and god knows what else. I was his band’s manager, but if I wasn’t waiting naked inside a gross bar bathroom after a show, he’d find someone else. Some nights he tried to get me to sleep with other guys, and then if I was messed up enough to try, he’d beat them up and call me a slut.”
“Mia,” Benson could feel his teeth grinding. He wasn’t sure if he said her name to comfort her or make her stop. She just frowned and shook her head.
“It was terrible. I watched him throw his life away, but I didn’t realize he was pulling me down with him. I woke up in the hospital once. He had overdosed, and I had alcohol poisoning. Lora came for me, and I never looked back. Even without him, though, I didn’t stop. I was a shit person. He had made me toxic. I was a ruthless manager. I overloaded courses at school and pulled doubles at the bar. I just wanted to feel like a whole person for once in my life. When I met Grant, I thought everything would be okay.”
She looked at Benson to gauge his response. There was none. She swallowed hard and looked away. She couldn’t watch him grow disgusted with her, but she needed to tell him her story.
“Things were okay, for a while. He helped me find new bands to manage. He was there when I graduated from NYU. And he got me in at Monarch Records. I wouldn’t have gotten a job there if it weren’t for him, but I didn’t sleep with him for it. He told me if I was ever going to become a better person I needed to take a less hands on approach to the music industry. I think he just wanted me to go away. Grant wasn’t abusive, but he wasn’t there. After a few months he became comfortable doing coke around me and it all went downhill from there.
So I guess I got really side tracked. I was trying to tell you I don’t know how make them see that it is a big deal. Max fucked up and they’re all going to pay for this. That music video? Bye-bye. Opening for Charlotte’s Drive? Unlikely. They could lose their record deal over this. I tried to tell them to learn from my mistakes, but it didn’t work.”
An uncomfortable silence settled between them. Mia placed her laptop on the coffee table and pulled her legs up to her chest and hugged them. She felt empty. She had tried to shield Benson from the horrible things she did, but her skeletons were too big. The minutes that past felt like dragging hours. Mia finally lifted her head. Benson was staring at her with an expressionless face.
“Don’t look so disgusted with me.”
He didn’t look disgusted. He didn’t look anything. That’s what made her angry. She tore herself open, yet again, for him and he sat like a statue. She wanted a fight. She wanted to scream and yell and beat her fists into his chest. When his mouth finally opened, she anticipated harshness. Benson’s words were sharp, but they weren’t hard.
“You think I’m disgusted with you, Mia?” He shook his head with a bitter laugh. “I’m disgusted with a lot of things, but not you. Never you.”
Finally she could speak the words implanted in her head by an angry blackness in her head, “Why? How? You’re too good for me, Benson. You come from money. You are money. I was a fuck up from the wrong side of the tracks who managed to become even more of a fuck up as an adult. You should have a pretty trophy wife, not an emotionally damaged neat-freak who works with rock stars.”
Benson was on her within seconds. He picked her up and forced her to stand in front of him as he growled, “Why are you so set on being broken for the rest of your life? Why won’t you let yourself be happy?”
He waited for her answer, but it never came. Fed up with her silence, Benson dropped her arms and roughly grabbed his bag a few feet away. He dug through it and pulled out a black t-shirt. Mia watched in debilitating horror as he put his shoes on and angrily punched at his phone. With his bag dangling in one hand he stomped across the room. Mia didn’t turn to watch him leave. She heard the door open then close with an angry bark. A few seconds later when she felt hands pull at her shoulders, she let out a startled yelp.
Benson spun her around to face him. His eyes, once the color of a clear summer sky, now resembled cloudy pools. Mia focused on the water that rimmed the eyes, surprised by the presence of the tears. He kissed her hard and rough, the bag dropping to their feet with a heavy thud. When he finally pulled away, she expected him to say something. Her eyes begged for him to stay, and when he stepped away, she couldn’t help the wave of tears that fell.
But he didn’t leave. He stalked over to her wardrobe, throwing it open so forcefully it was a surprise the door didn’t break. He grabbed a few garments and a pair of heels, then stopped briefly at her dresser and rummaged through for some underwear. He shoved everything in his small bag, not caring if it wrinkled. He looked her up and down and then went back to the wardrobe, returning with a pair of slip on canvas shoes.
“Put these on.”
She didn’t question him. He slid her phone in the pocket of his sweats and tugged her along with him, swiping her set of keys from the small bowl beside the front door. He pulled her into a vacant elevator and pressed to take them to the lobby. Mia stood braless in a thin tank top and tiny cotton shorts. She was hardly dressed for the October evening.
She didn’t have to endure the stares from strangers or the cold air for long. Victor was waiting curbside for them. Mia didn’t ask questions on the drive, unsure of what to say. Benson welcomed her silence. His eyes were on her the entire drive. She felt his gaze move with her. They pulled in front of a striking high rise building. Benson climbed out and reached for Mia.
Under the eyes of the doorman and the inside staff, Mia suddenly felt self-conscious. Suits and ties gazed at her and Benson; both wildly underdressed, though he didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t go to the main elevator that had let off a small group of people as they entered through the clear glass doors. Instead, he directed her to a set of steel doors tucked in a corner near the front desk. He slid his own set of keys out, pressing a thin black device against a computer screen. The screen flashed green before the doors opened revealing a private elevator.
There were only three buttons inside the elevator. One was labeled ‘lobby’, one was unmarked, and the other was a red emergency stop. Benson pressed the unmarked button and turned to Mia as if he was waiting for a slew of questions. She diverted her eyes. She had a healthy bouquet of questions, but she didn’t want to ask any of them.
When the doors opened again they exited to a room the size of her apartment. The floors were an exquisite white marble. The bottom half of the walls featured an intricate wainscoting, the top a mute cream color that screamed luxury. Two stone pillars held in the middle of the room between the elevator entrance and the massive chocolate wood door. By the large window overlooking Central Park sat two tufted white wingback chairs and a glass table. An expensive looking statue of a horse sat on top of the table. Aside from the few pieces of furniture, the room was bare.
Benson put his free hand on the small of her back and directed her towards the heavy doors. He paused and fished out his keys, using the black device once again. The light flashed briefly and Benson opened the door and invited her in with a sweeping motion.
Mia fought to keep her mouth from opening in awe. She’d never been in a penthouse before. Even compared to the pictures she had seen in magazines, Benson’s home was a stunning display of beauty. It was so perfectly him. The open floorplan combined dark woods, slate greys and splashes of white to create a modern alpha male pad. The furniture wasn’t overly sleek. In fact, the seating was rather large and plush. The juxtaposition of glass pieces next to fluffy cushions made for an attractive design.
“I’ve never brought anyone here before.”
She snapped her head in his direction, “What?”
“My parents haven’t even been here… not that I try to associate with them very often,” Benson had placed the bag on the wide sectional sofa and crossed back over to her spot near the entrance. “Apart from the designers, cleaning staff, and Victor, you’re the only person who has been in my home.”
She met his eyes, “Why?”
“It is my home. I don’t like bringing strangers here.”
“No,” Mia shook her head. “Why did you bring me here?”
He smiled, “You’re not a stranger, precious.” Her breath hitched and she tried not to look at him, though he was making it rather difficult. He guided her face back to his. “You want to push me out so badly. I just want you to see – to know- that I care about you. You may think of yourself as damaged or beneath me, but Mia, I see so much more.”
“You didn’t leave,” She found the words and they spilled out in an almost amazed tone.
“I was going to,” Benson admitted. “But after all we’ve gone through these past few days, I couldn’t. I may be an asshole, but I’m not prepared to lose you.”
Her eyes darted from his and around the room, then a wicked smile crossed her face, “Hey, Benson. If you don’t let anyone in your home, why do you have an air hockey table in your living room?”
His eyes looked over his shoulder, then he looked at her playfully, “Victor is rather good at the game.”
She sprung from her spot in front of him and raced over to the rarely used machine. She searched briefly for the power button and the game sprung to life with a gentle hum and a flash of colors. She motioned him over with a laugh.
“I bet he isn’t as good as I am! Come get your ass kicked, Mr. Ward.”
Benson quickly followed, not hiding the amusement on his face or the laugh in his voice. He was, however, hiding the unwavering thump in his chest
that beat a love song for Mia.
Chapter Nine
Sunday had been something straight out of the movies. Mia and Benson had stayed up late Saturday evening watching TV and drinking champagne naked on his balcony. They slept in Sunday morning, waking just to lose themselves in half-lidded pleasure. Mia enjoyed the amenities of the master bathroom, soaking in the tub that was the size of her entire bathroom. She didn’t bother wearing clothes after, something Benson had enjoyed.
They spent the day together uninterrupted. Their weekend stay-in hadn’t gone exactly as planned, but Benson was determined to at least give Mia one day of bliss. By Sunday evening, she had beaten him a dozen times at air hockey and managed to get him to sing along to some of the music she seemed to constantly have playing. He didn’t mind the music. He especially didn’t mind it when Mia was singing along as she danced naked throughout the penthouse.
In Benson’s frenzy the night before, he had managed to snag a decent outfit for Mia to wear Monday to work. It allowed the two one more night together before the week threw them back into reality. The only reality Benson wanted to know was Mia.
He loved how she felt curled in his arms at night. It was a comfort he had never known before. Waking up to her was even better. Her big emerald eyes were always more seductive in the mornings. Looking at him through her lashes as she muttered a low morning greeting, the blanket pooling at her waist, she was a picture of pure sex to him. She was perfect. And he told her frequently.
Benson had never gotten ready for work with another person. He didn’t want to admit he was nervous for the overwhelming domestic gesture, but the knot was hard in his stomach the moment they woke to his alarm. Even through a joint shower where admittedly, neither got very clean, he wasn’t sure how the morning would go. That is, until he saw Mia standing on her toes bent over the sink as she brushed her teeth. His adoration grew tenfold as he watched.
She dressed him, claiming it was only fair since he had picked out her clothes the day before. Standing in a blush colored satin and lace demi bra and the matching underwear, he was barely in a position to tell her no. She had picked one of his darker suits, pairing it with a black and grey herringbone design tie and a matching pocket square. He didn’t know exactly what he had grabbed for her to wear, just that he was determined to have her stay with him for as long as possible.
Mia looked through the few pieces before pu
tting on a chic dress. The black piece featured short sleeves and a high neckline. Buttons trailed from her neck down to the high waist of the skirt. The skirt was black as well, though it featured a bold white pattern of triangles. It flared out, only adding to the appeal of the garment. Even without jewelry, the ensemble made Mia look like she meant business. On a day where she had to face the hounding press and the litigation following Max’s eventful weekend, she was going to need that boosted confidence.
They stopped for coffee and pastries on the way to Mia’s office. When they pulled up in front of Monarch’s building, a slew of reporters were waiting as if an up and coming drummer’s addiction problems were big news. Immune to their presence, Benson helped her out and walked her to the front of the building, then dipped her down into a graceful kiss lit by the flash of expensive cameras. When he pulled her up straight again, he pecked her forehead and said goodbye before turning and going back to the Bentley on the curb.
On cloud nine, Mia ignored the reporters and drifted to her office. When she stepped off the elevator on her floor, cloud nine erupted into a frenzy that signaled the end of her romantic weekend. The PR department for Monarch Records was fluttering about in an almost comical manor. Despite the fact that Mia dealt with Burnside’s public image and relations directly, the entire department was stirring restlessly.
As soon as she stepped into the room, the frenzy calmed. All eyes were on her. And then the dozen eyes glanced to the closed door of Anne Rope, the head of the department. Mia bit her bottom lip and strode confidently over to Anne’s secretary’s desk.
“Is she available?” Mia questioned after clearing her throat.
The young blonde nodded, briefly looking up from a notepad she had in front of her, “She’s been waiting for you. Go ahead.”
Mia’s stomach dropped as she knocked and then stepped into Anne’s office. Her boss was on the phone when Mia stepped in. As she sat down, she heard the tail end of the conversation before Anne ended the call and turned to Mia with a strange look on her face.