“Yeah. Yeah, maybe you’re right.”
“I usually am,” she said with a trace of humor he hadn’t heard from her in a long time. “So what are you going to do about it?”
“There’s not much I can do. She won’t talk to me.”
“Well, I can’t say I blame her.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Sorry,” she said without sounding apologetic in the least. “Just don’t be so quick to give up on it. That’s not like you.”
Ben didn’t think that was entirely true, but since he was surprised his mom was capable of having any positive thoughts about him after what he’d done, he wasn’t about to contradict her.
They were quiet for a few beats before his mom spoke again. “You know, watching you on the ice has always amazed me. You’re so sure of yourself there. There’s a confidence about you that lets you get the job done, no matter how difficult it may be.”
“I don’t always get the job done. We haven’t even made the playoffs in the last few years.”
“Well, to be frank, that’s because your supporting cast leaves a lot to be desired.”
Ben was stunned. “You . . . watch my games?”
His mom sighed again, though this time, her disappointment was audible. “Sometimes I feel like you and I don’t know each other as well as we think we do. Of course I watch your games, Ben. Your dad and I never miss one. And I’m going to break a confidence here, but I feel like it’s something you need to know.”
“What is it?” Ben asked when she hesitated.
“David never misses one either.” Her voice was almost a whisper, but the words echoed loudly inside of Ben. And they continued to replay in his mind while he and his mom finished their conversation and said their goodbyes.
He sat in his car for a while, mulling over his next move. And then finally deciding he wasn’t going to figure it out sitting in a parking lot, he started his car and put it in gear. Hopefully, he’d have better luck with his thoughts on his way to Connecticut.
* * *
“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”
Ryan had always hated that expression, but she did her best to school her features as she approached Paul. “Hi, Paul. Long time no see.”
“I’ll say. What brings you back in here?”
A complete lack of standards, Ryan thought, though she knew it wasn’t true. The truth was that she needed a job and she’d heard Paul had a job to offer. And while she probably could’ve gone somewhere else, the fact was that she knew the money was steady here and would allow her to save most of what Ben had already paid her before Connecticut. She’d never had savings before and she intended to keep them. “Thought I’d see if you were hiring,” she said with a bright smile.
Paul eyed her skeptically. “Is that so?”
“I mean, I know we didn’t end on the best note—”
“That’s an understatement if I ever heard one,” he interrupted.
“But I now understand that you have protocols in place and that I need to follow them,” she said, ignoring his interruption.
“I dunno. There are a lot of girls I could get in here to carry drinks. I’m not so sure I should take another chance on you.” Paul looked at her for an inordinate amount of time. It felt like they were playing the staring equivalent of chicken.
Finally, Ryan cracked. “For Christ’s sake, Paul, if I promise not to go postal on any of the customers, can I have my job back?” Once the words were out, she thought that maybe she could have gone about that in a better way. But to her surprise, Paul laughed.
“You really are a goddamn firecracker. Some guys are into that. Not me. But some guys. I guess I can let you back in here on a trial basis.”
Ryan smiled widely. She momentarily lost her mind and almost hugged Paul, but thankfully that urge passed before she followed through with it. “Thank you so much, Paul. You won’t regret it.”
“Oh, I’m fairly certain I will. But at least it’ll probably be entertaining in the meantime. Catch up with Ginger on the way out to work out your schedule.”
And with that, Ryan was dismissed. She stopped to talk to Ginger and find out what shifts she’d be working before stepping out into the sunlight. Tilting her head up toward the sky, she let the sun warm her face and tried to come to terms with the fact that she’d willingly gotten her job back at a place she kind of hated. The worst part was she wasn’t sure what she regretted more about the decision: the fact that her boss was a douche or that the place reminded her of Ben.
She took a deep breath and turned around to look up at Daisy’s, letting herself admit, even if for a moment, that she thought only one of those things was regrettable.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Ben checked his GPS and then pulled into the driveway of David’s house. Taking in the large brick facade, Ben felt a pang in his chest at the fact that he’d never been there before. What grown-ass brothers have never been to each other’s homes? It reeked of the kind of immaturity Ben hoped they could bury for good, but he figured they had only about a fifty-fifty chance at being successful. Not the best odds, but Ben was willing to gamble on it anyway.
He was glad he’d remembered David mentioning how long their honeymoon was or he’d have shown up while they were still away. He parked and gave himself a little pep talk before getting out of the car and walking toward the house. He’d arrived at the steps leading up to the front when the door swung open. Ben’s head jerked up in surprise, and he saw Natasha standing there.
She didn’t look particularly happy to see him, but that wasn’t much of a surprise. After a few tense moments, she stepped back and held the door open for him.
Letting out a sigh of relief, Ben bounded up the steps and into their home.
“He’s out back,” Natasha said as she shut the door behind him. Then she led him through their house, which was more modern than Ben would’ve thought his brother would go for. They arrived at patio doors, which Natasha pulled open before nodding her head toward the yard where David was fixing a fence.
Ben said a quiet “thanks” as he stepped outside and slowly approached his brother. David must have seen movement, because he turned briefly to look at Ben, but quickly turned back to the task at hand. Not the welcome he’d hoped for, but it was the one he’d pretty much expected. He stood there for a second, trying to figure out how to begin. “What are you doing?” was evidently the best he could come up with.
“Fixing a fence,” David replied coolly.
“Why?”
“Because it’s broken.”
This is going well. “I didn’t know you knew how to . . . mend fences.” And oh, how appropriate those words are.
Ben wondered if David had the same thought, because his movements stuttered for a second. “I know how to do lots of things that might surprise you,” he replied, his tone low but without any anger or annoyance.
“Like what?” Ben asked.
David stood and wiped his brow with the back of his arm. “What are you doing here, Ben?”
“Well, I didn’t want to say this because I don’t want you to pass out from the shock, but I’ve been thinking about some things and decided . . . you were right.”
David turned his head to look at Ben. “What’s supposed to shock me more: the fact that you were thinking or that you’re saying I was right?” His lips quirked slightly, and the sight made Ben relax. They used to joke like this all the time. Before.
“Both, I guess.”
David stooped down to pick up some tools before straightening up again and continuing to mess with the fence. “What was I right about this time?”
Ben laughed. Smug prick. But for once, the insulting thought was almost affectionate. It was as though Ben’s making this first step had loosened something between them. It had bridged a gap and allowed them to slip back into roles that were somehow still familiar despite not having been filled for many years. Sobering, Ben kicked at the grass for a second. “I don’t want to run an
ymore.”
David’s shoulders hitched up at the words before gradually relaxing. He turned fully to look at Ben. “I don’t know that I can really blame you for running when I’m constantly chasing you away.”
Ben hadn’t known how much he’d needed David to take some responsibility for what had happened between them until that moment. Granted, he knew he wanted to hear it. But he hadn’t let himself examine the depth of his need for the words. “Well, maybe we can both work on not being assholes.”
“Yeah. Maybe we can.”
They stood there in silence for a moment. Ben knew more needed to be said, but he wasn’t sure who needed to say it or what exactly it was.
Thankfully, David seemed to know. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a shitty big brother.” His words were strong and clear, and the way David’s eyes grew wet let Ben know how sincere he was.
Tears pricked at Ben’s eyes too as he stepped toward David and was met halfway. They hugged, and for Ben it was like being transformed back into the kid who needed his big brother to protect him from the monsters under his bed. “I’m sorry for . . .” Ben wasn’t sure how to finish his sentence. “Being shitty,” he settled on.
David laughed before thumping Ben on the back a couple times and pulling back. He dashed at his eyes with his hand.
“I made cookies,” they heard a voice yell. They both turned to see Natasha standing on the patio. “Since no one’s hit the other yet, I figured I’d let you have some.”
The guys laughed and called a “thanks” to her before walking over and settling down at the table.
“We should probably talk,” David said.
Ben thought for a moment before speaking. “Do we need to?” he asked. Because what good would rehashing it all do? They knew where the other was coming from. Sometimes people had to choose to move on.
They locked eyes for a minute before David said, “No, I guess we don’t.”
So they talked about random things instead—catching up on ten years of silence. To Ben, it felt like they were making up after a break-up, which in a way, he guessed they were. But it made him think of Ryan, and despite all he had to be happy about, he found his mood flagging a bit.
Whether David had picked up on the change in Ben or had just been curious, he asked about Ryan.
Ben rubbed his hands over his face. “Jesus, man, I fucked that up so badly.”
“Well, yeah, I can imagine you didn’t mean to shout out that you’d hired an escort.”
Ben let out a mirthless laugh. “That’s not even the part I fucked up. She wasn’t actually an escort. And she was . . . She was important to me. Really important. And I made her feel like she was nothing.”
“Oh. Then yeah, you definitely fucked up.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“So what are you going to do about it?” David asked him.
“What can I do? She shut me out. I need to accept it I guess.”
“Come on. You came here to fix a fight that was ten years old. You can’t fix something that happened less than two weeks ago?”
“I don’t know, man.” Ben rubbed a hand over his head. “She’s made it pretty clear she doesn’t want anything to do with me. She even left the check I gave her behind.”
David nearly spit out the iced tea he’d been drinking. “You tried to pay her after that?”
“What the hell was I supposed to do? She was owed it, and I wanted to make sure she had it.”
“I don’t know. That seems . . . cold. Like, ‘Hey, I just told my whole family you’re an escort, now let me pay you on their front lawn.’”
Ben let out a curse under his breath. “Well, when you put it like that.”
“Why were you carrying the check around anyway?”
“Because I thought it’d be romantic to give it to her when we left and say that whatever happened from there was because we wanted it to happen, not because money was involved.”
David paused for a second. “I think we need to review your definition of romantic.”
Ben groaned and David laughed. But they were interrupted by Ben’s phone ringing. He fished it out of his pocket and saw Jace’s name on the screen. “It’s Jace. He’s called a few times so I better see what he wants,” he told his brother as he answered. “Hey, what’s up?” he said into the phone.
“Ben? Where are you?”
“I’m up in Connecticut. Why?” Ben hadn’t told the guys he was coming because he didn’t want them to ask questions that might cause him to overthink what he was doing.
“I . . . shit, man, I don’t know how to say this.” Jace sounded off. His usually loud voice was subdued.
Ben sat forward, worrying something had happened to him or Gabe. “Just tell me.”
Jace sighed. “Mike Tarino died.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
As Ryan trudged up the stairs to Camille’s apartment, it became apparent that her life of leisure over the past month had made her soft. She was bone-tired after her shift at Daisy’s which had thankfully only been until midnight. The sex - kitten - who - aims - to - please facade she’d had to wear all night had been treading so thin she was worried she was going to break her promise to Paul and kill one of the customers. Her knuckles rapped on the door with the urgency one might expect when knocking on the doors of hell.
Camille pulled the door open and immediately turned away to go back to whatever project she had on the floor. The sound of a power tool had Ryan pausing in the doorway.
“What the hell are you doing?” Ryan asked.
“I can’t tell you yet” came the distracted reply.
“When can you tell me?”
“When it works” was the response.
Ryan decided to leave Camille to whatever she was doing and headed into the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for bed. The hot water poured down on her tired muscles and Ryan let herself be consumed by the blissful feeling. She stayed in until the water turned tepid. Once she dried off and got dressed, she opened the bathroom door to find a smiling Camille standing on the other side. “Were you . . . listening to me shower?” Ryan asked.
Camille’s eyebrows rose, but the smile stayed in place. “Do I seem like the sort of person who does things like that?”
“Well, you didn’t, but now . . .” Ryan let the sentence hang there as she gestured to Camille standing outside of the bathroom.
“That’s because I couldn’t wait to tell you that it works.”
“What works?” Ryan knew she was looking at Camille like she was a space invader, but her behavior was so un-Camille-like, Ryan didn’t know what was happening.
“This,” Camille said as she held up an object.
Ryan looked at the key Camille was holding before reaching out and taking it from her friend. Ryan inspected it. “Is this one of those Skeleton Keys that’s going to get me body-snatched?”
Camille let out a loud laugh. “No, but it is one that’ll let you into my apartment.”
“Are you serious?” Ryan felt an inordinate amount of excitement as she appraised the key again.
“Yup. It took me a few tries, but I finally got the hang of the Dremel.”
“What the hell is a Dremel?” Ryan asked as she clutched the key in her hand.
“It’s this little saw thing. It’s cool.”
“Where’d you get it?” Ryan gasped. “You didn’t buy it, did you? Because I’m pretty sure we could’ve bribed someone to make a key for cheaper than what that thing probably cost.”
Camille looked at her like she was crazy. “No, I didn’t buy one. I borrowed it from Lester.”
“The landlord?” When Camille nodded, Ryan continued, “You asked our landlord for a tool that would let you copy a key he’s forbidden you to copy?”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much exactly how it went.”
“Aw, you broke the law for me. That’s so sweet,” Ryan said as she hugged Camille.
Camille laughed. “You do know that it’s not actually illegal t
o copy a key that says not to duplicate it, don’t you? But it keeps most places from doing it.”
“Nope. And I’m going to pretend I still don’t because knowing ruins the key’s sentimental value.”
“Whatever floats your boat, honey,” Camille said as she lightly patted Ryan on the back and pulled away. Camille walked back into the living room where debris from her do-it-yourself project still rested.
“I can’t believe you made a key in the living room,” Ryan said as she began helping Camille clean up.
Camille shrugged. “I was bored. And YouTube made it sound really simple. It’s not, in case you were curious.”
Ryan chuckled and tried not to let herself get swept up in the emotional riptide that threatened to pull her under. Because this was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for her. The only other person who’d done something like this for her was Ben, and she didn’t want to go down that mental rabbit hole tonight. She wanted to let herself enjoy having a friend who cared about her.
Camille’s phone dinged and she got up to check it. “You know a guy named Mike Tarino?” she asked after reading the message.
“Nope. Doesn’t ring any bells. Why?”
“Hm. Gabe said he was a friend of theirs so I wondered if you knew him.”
Ryan paused in her cleaning and looked over at Camille, who’d sunk down onto the couch. “Have you been texting with Gabe?”
“Yeah,” Camille said simply.
“Since when?”
“Since he wrote his name on a piece of toilet paper and slipped it in my purse when we were at Ben’s that time.”
Ryan couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s gross.”
Camille lifted one shoulder. “It’s not like he used it first or anything.”
“I hope not,” Ryan said as she laughed louder. “So, are you guys, like, hanging out or something?” she asked.
Snorting, Camille typed a response on her phone before saying, “No.”
“Is he trying to get you to hang out?” Ryan wheedled.
But all she got was a “No, he knows he has no chance with me” in response.
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