“No, thanks. Hattie already offered.”
She nods her head in approval, “Good. Please let us know if we can assist you in any way.”
“What did you mean earlier when you said I have Portkey access?” I remember to ask.
Hattie's nose bunches up, “That's the term we use for people who are free to come and go from this level as they please.”
I poke myself in the chest and lift my brows, “I have that?”
She scrunches her face in confusion, “Well, yeah?”
“Are you a relative of Mr. Cole's?” The other one asks.
“No, just a friend.”
She leans forward in her desk, smirking, “Oh, really? I just assumed you were family because the only people with that level of clearance are his personal guards and his parents. Oh, and his siblings.”
I shrug, not understanding either.
“This is completely unprofessional, but are the two of you dating?”
The door next to her desk opens and once again all heads in the room jerk to see who it is.
Ben strolls in with papers in one hand and a crystal tumbler of amber liquor in the other. He plops the stack on top of her desk, “I need this done before you leave today.”
She nods and gets straight to work.
Ben faces Hattie's desk and the stern, serious face he entered with vanishes when he sees me.
“Lily, you're still here,” his face breaks out in a dimple-showing grin that would make any woman's heart skip a beat. “I was about to order something to eat. Do you have time to join me before you leave?”
Oh god, am I expected to be on a plane ride home already?
“Sounds great,” I manage to say. I need some questions answered and I'm hoping Ben's the man to answer them.
“Good. Hattie?”
She jumps, pushes up her glasses, and faces Ben, avoiding actually looking at him, instead focusing on the edge of his shoulder, “Yes, sir?” Her voice timid and shy.
“Order my usual and show Ms. Evans the menu so she can choose what she would like.” He's so curt with them, not at all like the Ben I know. I guess there's nothing like almost getting blown up and shot down with numerous rifles to really bond you to a person.
Hattie nods and pulls out a binder full of menus.
“Come join me for a drink when you figure out what you want.”
“Okay, thanks Ben.”
He gives me another knee-buckling smile and heads to his office.
Hattie hands me the menu, her eyes glued to the back of Ben, cheeks getting rosier the longer she stares.
I glance over the extensive menu, “What's good here?”
“I'm not sure. I've never eaten there, but Mr. Cole always gets the salmon.”
“Hattie?” Ben pauses, holding the door open, “Order something for you and Jessica too.”
Hattie turns twenty different shades of red. “O-o-kkay,” she stutters. “Thank you.”
He winks at her and I'm pretty sure if her hands weren't resting on the desk she would have dissolved to the floor.
I think little Miss Hattie has a crush. Can't blame her. Ben has that way about him that probably gets all women lusting after him. I know I would be if I wasn't so insanely in love with Jay.
The door closes and Hattie exhales like she's been holding her breath this whole time. She swoons back into her chair, almost missing it and falling on her ass.
I hold in a giggle.
Jessica joins us, peering at the menu in my hands. I hand it over to her and she gives me a smile of thanks, “He never offers us lunch, you should stop by more often. How long did you say you two have been dating?”
“We aren't.”
Jessica cocks her head to the side, “And you're not family?”
“Nope.” I kind of like how confused I'm making them with who the hell I am. Nobody would ever say Lily Evans is a woman of mystery and intrigue. Ever.
I can tell they're both waiting for me to expand, but I don't. I'm certain this is the only time this will ever happen to me. It's silly, but it's kind of fun. “It was nice meeting you both.” I smile before heading back to Ben's office. As I open the door I say over my shoulder, “I'll have whatever Ben is having.” With that, I enter what I've decided to call Vault's office.
Ben's sitting in the same spot as the first time I met him, drinking from his tumbler. I get the impression it never leaves his right hand. He's looking over a paper with the other.
When he hears me approach he sets the paper down next to him and gestures to the couch opposite him, my drink sitting on the coffee table. “I used the same glass from earlier. Hope thats okay,” he smirks and I blush.
I take the drink and sit, “You don't mind, do you?”
“That you helped yourself to my thirty-eight-year-old scotch?”
I can't tell if he's teasing me or not.
I sip the drink, but now I'm nervous and suck back more of a gulp, burning my throat and tearing up my eyes.
“Careful, it'll knock you on your ass. Jay would probably like that though.”
The sip I just took comes spraying out in front of me, shocked that he just said that.
Ben only smirks, “You should know you just spit out about fifty dollars.”
“You know how ridiculous it is to pay that much for alcohol, right?”
“I have expensive tastes and more money than I know what to do with.” He takes a sip, “How long are you here for?
“I'm not sure, I only bought a one way ticket. I guess it depends on the flight schedules.” This is so awkward.
“Don't be ridiculous, Lily. You can use my jet.”
“No way.”
“Why? That's the whole reason I have one. And you are the woman who saved my life, after all. Let me know when you plan on going and I'll make sure it's ready for you.”
“Are you mad I helped myself earlier?” I ask, tapping my glass, avoiding the subject of me leaving. I need more Jay. A lot more.
“Not at all. You can buy me a new bottle for Christmas.”
I snort, “Like I could ever afford it. The best I can offer you is some Jack.”
He raises a brow, “Have you forgotten you're a rich woman now, Lily? My investors are quite good at what they do. That amount will only grow over the years.”
At the mention of the money I take a few more sips, starting to feel a little fuzzy from the alcohol and an empty stomach.
“Why didn't he just tell me about the money?”
“Jay doesn't talk about that money. I think he doesn't want to think about how his dad got it. He won't even discuss how it's handled, always telling me to have my men do what's best. I think that's foolish on his part, but I don't think he cares if someone loses it all. He doesn't touch that money unless he has to.”
Ben gets up to refill my almost finished glass.
I hold on to it, “You don't have to do that, I'm capable of it myself.”
He maneuvers it from my grasp, “My mother raised me to be a gentleman. If a lady's in the room and her glass is empty, you refill it.”
“I thought it was supposed to be the other way around.”
“Sweetheart,” Ben begins, low and sensuous, handing my drink back to me and sitting down. “That's what men who are insecure in their manhood expect. A gentleman takes care of a woman, ensures they feel important, and that all their needs are met before his own, because a gentleman is fully aware of his manhood, and is reminded of it every night when his woman screams out his name in ecstasy.”
Oh boy, Ben's definitely learned the art of seduction. I don't even know how to respond right now.
Something drops to the ground and it shakes me from being completely enthralled with Ben and getting lost in his arctic eyes.
“I'm so sorry,” Hattie mumbles, dropping to the floor to pick up the food she dropped, skin flaming red, looking beyond mortified.
I wonder how much of that conversation she heard? Obviously enough to make the food slip out of her ha
nds.
Her back is facing us and she's on all fours gathering what fell. Normally around a man like Ben I would assume if a woman's bent over with their dress tightly curving around their ass that it was done on purpose, but with Hattie I think she only did it to hide her embarrassment.
Ben's eyes are zeroed in on it, drink half tilted to his lips, suspended in place.
Hattie hurries over and places the bag on the table, bending over and giving us a nice view of her amble breasts while she checks to make sure the food suffered no damage during it's descent to the ground. I peek over at Ben again to see him taking them in. He wets his lips, making his scrumptiously full bottom lip glisten and appear even more suckable.
Ben clears his throat, “Did they include utensils this time?”
Hattie straightens and pushes her glasses up, “Yes, sir. Anything else I can get for you or Ms. Evans?”
Vault looks to me and I shake my head no.
“We're fine,” he's curt and doesn't look at her when he responds, busy inspecting the food for himself. “I need you to make sure the jet is ready for whenever Ms. Evans is ready to leave.”
“Yes, sir,” Hattie swiftly twirls around and walks at almost a run, tripping but able to use the doorknob to steady herself. She barely opens the door to slide out of it.
I take the food Ben offers to me, “She has a nice ass.”
He rests back into the couch, ready to eat, “Who? Hattie?” He takes a bite, keeping his eyes on his food.
“Mmhm,” I mumble with my mouth full.
“You were checking out her ass?”
“My two best friends like women. I've checked out many ladies asses in my time.”
Ben responds with a nod, as though that makes perfect sense and every girl's best friends are lesbians.
“Is she always so timid and awkward?”
He laughs, “Yes, but she's brilliant at her job. My men always try to find ways to mess with her. I'd feel bad if it wasn't so funny to watch her get flustered and red faced.”
I frown, “That's a little mean. You don't think she's been getting that kind of shit her whole life? The girl can't take two steps without tripping on herself. And the whole,” I impersonate the nose scrunching and glasses pushing, “isn't helping her any, although I think it's super cute on her.”
Ben is now frowning, “I suppose you're right. I never thought about it like that.”
We sit in silence eating our lunch. The way his brows are knitting together I can tell what I said struck a cord with him.
“Can I get personal with you, Ben?”
He looks up at me from his food, “I don't do personal.”
Geez, where have I heard that one before.
“That's fine, but I'm still going to ask my question, and if you choose not to answer I won't bring it up again, deal?”
Ben looks up to the ceiling as though he's praying for patience, “I see what Jay meant about you.”
“What? What'd he say? He talks about me?” I sit up straighter, eager to hear what Jay said.
“Lily,” Ben exhales, sounding exasperated, “Do I seem like someone that wants to sit around and gossip with you?”
“No, not really.”
He's relieved that I understand and goes back to eating.
“So, what'd he say?”
Ben drinks more of his whiskey, trying to hide a grin, “The first day I met you–the day Jay came to me for the dagger–he briefly told me about you. Said you didn't know when to keep your mouth shut and mind your own business.”
Ouch, that kind of stung (even if it's true).
Ben continues, “The whole time he told me this he was grinning, and Jay doesn't grin. That's when I had to meet you. I had to meet the woman that could make Jay Lincoln smile like a lovesick fool.”
My smile lights up my whole face.
“I didn't think he would ever let himself find his one. I figured he would either die before he got the chance, or he and Arianna would work out some kind of partnership. She's been in love with him since the day she met him and the two of them could never keep their hands off each other, always finding ways to meet up.”
Just like that my smile vanishes. I'm not so sure I want to get personal with him anymore, “Okay, you made your point. I won't ask. I see you don't play fair.”
“You're right, I don't.” Ben stares at me for what feels like eternity. I focus on my food like it's the most fascinating thing ever created. “I'm sorry, Lily. I was being a jerk. I usually try to turn the cards against whoever I'm talking to, always bringing it back around to them.”
“It's fine,” I mumble, taking a bite of the food that I once found delicious but now tastes like cardboard.
“Lily,” Ben starts, scooting to the end of the couch and placing his food on the table. “Lily, look at me.”
I don't, not sure if I like this side of Ben (or I guess I should say Vault in this instance).
“Ask me your question, any question you want, and I will answer it,” Vault offers as an apology.
I look at him through my lashes, very tempted by this offer, “You sure? It's about as personal as you can get.”
“Christ,” he mutters, dabbing his mouth with a napkin and sitting back, taking a long sip, unsettled by my words. “Ask. Let's get this over with.”
“Why don't you blame Jay for your wife's death?” It's something I have wondered numerous times as I reflect back on the things Jay has told me.
Ben looks relieved that this was my big question, “What's the point? Death's the only inevitable thing in life, I just didn't expect it to happen so soon for her.” His shrug comes across as aloof and uncaring, but I watch a mammoth lump travel down from his swallow, stopping halfway as though it got lodged inside, and then he knocks back the rest of his whiskey.
His statement depresses me and his demeanor makes me incredibly sad for him. So far I'm not seeing what's so great about living in Jay's world, especially when death is so easily brushed aside.
Ben gets up to refill his drink, continuing the conversation, his back to me while he does, “Besides, if we hadn't been arguing that night she wouldn't have needed to find a restroom far from the party for privacy. If I hadn't been my usual self-absorbed ass I would have been dancing with her, enjoying her company and infectious laugh. Instead I let her walk away, knowing she was upset and off to cry, knowing I was the reason she was crying, and that I was always the reason she cried.” He turns back around, and for a moment he lets himself show his mourning and sorrow over her loss, “That's just life. It's full of moments that have you analyzing and wondering what could have been, especially when it comes to death. I've been around enough men like Jay to learn it's not worth holding on to that kind of anger. Her death destroyed enough of me, I don't need to let it ruin me.”
What a complex enigma Benedict Cole is.
“Are you happy?” I blurt out, slightly embarrassed from not intending to have asked.
“I'm not sure I've ever been happy. At least, not the kind of happy where you wake up to the sun shining, birds chirping, and you want to sing to the world; I'm thankful for that though.”
“Why is that?”
Ben curses under his breath, scrubbing the scar on his temple, “What is it about you that makes someone overexpose themselves?”
I don't offer an answer, not knowing myself, but I've always been someone people tended to turn to, for reasons I've never analyzed.
Ben lets out a long exhale, his mouth speaking almost against his will, “What goes up must come down, right? Well, my lows aren't much different from my highs, and because of that I've never had to experience the kind of 'crash and burn' that elated happiness can bring.”
“But those moments can be some of the best parts about life,” I argue.
“But the fall is always the worst,” he points out.
It's true. Sad, but true. How would he know that if he's never experienced it?
Food is dropped on the table between us, startl
ing us both.
Confused, Ben and I look up to find Jay standing there, his jaw clenched and his arms tightly crossed, “Thought you'd like to eat with me, seeing as how we haven't seen each other in eight weeks.”
I'm momentarily stunned from him popping up and how the sight of him has my insides demanding to assault every square inch of him.
“Guess I was wrong. Maybe one of the girls will want this.” Jay lifts the bags and takes long strides out the door.
What the hell? In all the ways I'd daydreamed for our reunion to be, today has been nowhere near it. I thought we wouldn't be able to keep our hands off each other while making declarations of love every other second.
“Excuse me,” I say, apologetically. “I don't want to be rude.”
Ben waves his hand at the door, “Go, I understand.”
Jessica is taking a bag from Jay when I enter the waiting room.
“Oh, Ms. Evans,” Hattie says when she sees me, “I was just going to let you know that Captain Jim's ready any time you need him.”
“What the fuck?” Jay clips, ferociously staring me down.
My sentiments exactly.
“VAULT!” Jay roars, making Hattie cower back, looking like she desperately wishes to hide under her desk.
Ben comes out, unfazed by the rude calling.
“I'm done for the day. There's only one reason I want my phone to ring,” Jay informs him.
Ben nods, “How long are you out?”
Jay leers down my body, “I'm going to need at least until tomorrow morning.”
“I'll give you until Monday.” Ben winks at me before retreating back inside.
“Lets go,” Jay demands, storming out the main door without checking to make sure I follow (which of course I do).
By the time I reach him he's already at the gold elevator getting his hand scanned, “Eight fucking weeks, Lily.”
He grabs my wrist, places it on the scanner, and shoves me from behind when the door opens.
“Eight weeks,” he repeats again when he has my hand scanned on the inside.
He hasn't looked at me even though I know he can feel that my eyes haven't left him.
“Are you mad at me?”
He grunts.
When the doors open I'm surprised to find we are on another level of the building. It's a long stretch of hallway, numerous doors on each side. We exit and I follow Jay to almost the end of it. He has his hand scanned by the door and gestures for me to do the same. He opens it and waits for me to enter first.
Marked. Part II: Becoming Noah Baxter Page 8