An Act of Persuasion

by Stephanie Doyle

  His words actually made it worse. He knew what he was doing to her, but he chose to do it anyway. What he was doing…this treatment could kill him. Faster than the leukemia. She was standing in this room with this man who she’d worshiped for six years, and in months, possibly even weeks, he could leave her. Forever.

  His life. His risk. What about her life?

  “And you made this decision when?” Then she held up a finger to stop him. “Wait, let me guess. Three days ago.”

  “Anna—”

  “No, I don’t want to hear your excuse.”

  “I’m not making any excuses. What I did was…unforgiveable. I let myself…lose control and for that I’m sorry. But what happened wasn’t completely one-sided.”

  Of course it wasn’t. Yes, she had willingly participated. Hell, she’d practically jumped him when she realized what he was thinking. Six years she’d waited for Ben to make a move, give her some sign that what they had between them was more than business. When he’d looked at her that night and she’d seen the desire in his eyes it was as though her whole body imploded with one simple, single answer: yes.

  Only what she thought was a realization of his feelings for her was simply an opportunity for one final bang. He’d used her, and she didn’t know if she could stomach that.

  “I was nothing more than a convenience for you,” she muttered.

  “No, that isn’t true. It wasn’t like I made this decision and then decided to…to—”

  “Screw me?”

  Again, he flinched, but she was tired of walking on eggshells around him, tired of taking all her cues from him about what they could and could not talk about.

  They had sex. And within that act there had been intimacy. He couldn’t lie about that. He couldn’t say it was a mistake he made. What she’d seen in his eyes when he came into her…that was real.

  “Look, Anna, I’m sorry for what I did. It just happened. But it doesn’t change anything between us.”

  It just happened. The most significant moment of her life to date and he’d dismissed it as an impulse.

  “I am sorry you’re upset. I’m sorry my actions have made you feel this way.”

  Messy and emotional. Everything Ben Tyler rejected in his life, she knew. It pissed her off all over again, especially since she couldn’t control it. Blindly, she reached out to the shelves that covered most of the walls of his office. A snow globe she’d bought him on a vacation to Vegas was within range. He’d laughed when she had given it to him, telling her it was the tackiest thing he’d ever seen. But he kept it in his office, where he could see it every day.

  She threw it as hard as she could and listened as it shattered against the bookshelves on the other side of the room.

  “That was childish,” he said calmly.

  Anna crossed her arms over her chest knowing she needed to get away. First, she needed to leave the room before the tears came. That would be step one. The second step would be infinitely harder. But as she looked at him, his face now expressionless, she knew she couldn’t stay with him. Not like this. It didn’t matter what happened anymore. It didn’t matter that she knew now how he truly felt.

  The truth was the treatment he chose for himself might kill him. Was she supposed to stay and watch that?

  Was she supposed to sit like a good girl while she was abandoned? Again.

  No. She wouldn’t do it.

  She needed to leave him before her heart bled out into her chest after being crushed so thoroughly. And she died alongside him. That’s the thought she had to cling to.

  She wasn’t leaving Ben, she was saving herself.

  “Fine,” she said, calling on every ounce of strength she had to do what needed to be done. “It just happened. You need to be dropped off at the hospital. I understand perfectly. I’ll make sure the glass gets cleaned up. Stay away from it in the meantime.”

  “Anna—”

  “No,” she said, holding her hand up. “I control what we get to talk about from now on and I don’t want to discuss this any longer.”

  He didn’t like that, she could see it in his expression.

  He sneered then, not content to let her have the last say on the matter. “I was only going to say…you throw like a girl.”

  “Screw you,” she fired back. “Oh, wait. I already did.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Present day

  SHE WAS HERE. The deep satisfaction he felt as he watched her walk through the country club room where they were hosting the party was intense. Ben stood on the balcony talking to one of his clients. And without turning his head, he knew the instant she’d arrived.

  He wouldn’t suggest anything so melodramatic as to say he could intuit her presence. But he wouldn’t discount his body’s response to her arrival. His muscles tightened, his heart rate accelerated.

  It had been twelve weeks since he’d last seen her. Three months since he’d heard her voice. The fact that he knew down to the minute when she’d last spoken to him—shouted at him actually—was appalling. It was a sign he wasn’t busy enough. He would think about resuming a more normal working schedule now that he was finally back on his feet.

  “I heard it was a close thing.”

  Ben stared at the short balding man he’d invited to the party, which was in part a celebration as well as a goodbye. Madeleine Kane, one of his employees and dearest friends, was leaving Philadelphia to join her fiancé, Michael Langdon, in Detroit. While she would still work for the Tyler Group as a political consultant, she would no longer be in the office on a regular basis. Ben thought it fitting to send her off with the well-wishes of her colleagues and a few high-profile clients.

  Stan Butterman was one of those clients.

  “I mean, word was you were on death’s door.”

  Ben despised euphemisms. They trivialized what was never trivial. “I was sick, but I’m doing much better now.”

  And he was. Where the first round of induction chemo had failed to put his cancer in remission, the second round of treatment killed off the cancer cells completely. The stem cell transplantation, while risky, had worked to rebuild his immune system. His red and white blood cell counts were normal, and there were no signs of his body rejecting the foreign cells.

  He still fought fatigue like it was a mortal enemy, but in the past twelve weeks since undergoing the treatment, he’d put on weight and had managed a limited strength-building exercise routine. It was starting to make a difference. Now he could go hours without needing to rest.

  “Well, you’re looking good. Even see your hair coming back. Not like mine, huh? Maybe I need some chemo to go the other way.” Stan rubbed his bald head and laughed while Ben smiled politely.

  Yes, of course, let’s laugh about chemo together.

  But Stan was right, there was hair on Ben’s head where there hadn’t been before, even if it was just a buzz of it. He’d lost most of his hair after the first round of treatment, but the second round had left him completely bald. Everywhere, including his chest and other areas of his body where he’d never really concerned himself with not having hair before.

  It had pleased him to see all the hairy parts of his body returning to normal. He considered it a sign of regrowth. A return to normalcy.

  “When do you plan to be back in the office full time?”

  “Soon. After weeks of quarantine I’m a little stir crazy. I’m ready for something more challenging than a trip to the drugstore.”

  “I bet. I mean a guy like you, former CIA agent turned into an invalid. You must have taken it especially hard.”

  It didn’t surprise Ben to hear Stan mention his government background. In fact, he believed it was what made the Tyler Group attractive to potential clients. There was something badass about having been in the CIA that clients liked to think they shared simply by contracting with Ben for particular jobs. Their very own spymaster.

  What kept bringing them back were the results they got. Ben was a man who solved problems. He�
�d done so for his country for fifteen years before moving into the private arena. He found talent in a wide range of areas and then hired that talent out to clients looking to utilize his team’s special skills. Currently the Tyler Group employed over twenty employees.

  “I couldn’t say. I don’t know anyone else with leukemia,” Ben muttered. His eyes followed Anna as she made her way to Madeleine. The two women had always been pleasant to each other as colleagues but they seemed to have bonded over Ben’s illness. Madeleine was the one Anna had chosen to watch over Ben after she quit. Now the two women were smiling at each other. Laughing.

  It bothered him that Anna should be so at ease while he was…not. Then he saw Madeleine lift her chin in the direction of the balcony and knew he was the topic of their conversation. It was time to be the bigger person. To go to her, like the adult he was, and confront her.

  Instead his feet remained rooted where they were.

  “Another drink?” Stan asked, raising his empty glass to indicate he was going in for another round.

  “No, thank you. But don’t let me hold you up. Enjoy the party.”

  Ben was drinking club soda, and while it had gone flat he couldn’t be bothered with a refill. Beyond that, he didn’t want to give Stan a reason to return. Alone now, he set the glass on one of the tables and waited.

  The sticky heat of summer was starting to get to him. He could feel the perspiration gathering under his arms and soaking his shirt. But while it was cooler inside, it was also crowded with more people. Yes, his doctor deemed it safe for Ben to reenter society, however he still felt a lingering reluctance to be around crowds and their germs. There was no point in taking any chances.

  “Hello, Ben.”

  Anna stepped onto the balcony and smiled. No, this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He was supposed to be the bigger person. He was supposed to go to her. It would have given him control over the moment.

  Now he could feel his heart bracing and the sweat that had been only irritating before was now spreading down his arms. It was embarrassing.

  But then this woman had seen him at his worst already. It seemed silly to be worried over sweat stains when she’d spent so much time holding his head up while he vomited.

  She looked different to him. Softer maybe. Her red hair still shifted about her face, and her freckles were still scattered across her face, but there was a change. Or maybe he’d just missed seeing her.

  “Hi.”

  She nodded and took a deep breath. “How are you?”

  “Better.” He couldn’t remember a time when he’d struggled to communicate his thoughts, but she was making him crazy. Partly because he thought he needed to apologize to her but mostly because he was waiting for her to apologize to him.

  She’d quit. When he needed her the most, she’d quit and left him. How could she do that?

  “I’m glad.”

  “And you?”

  She shrugged. “I’m fine.”

  “Working?” It felt like he had to pull the word out of his mouth.

  “Yeah, I’m working. Listen…”

  “Where?” He wanted to know. Suddenly he was furious with her all over again for leaving what had been a high-paying, intellectually challenging job with tremendous benefits.

  Benefits like helping you up from a chair you were too weak to get out of on your own and cleaning up after you each time you got sick. Great benefits. But don’t forget the sex you used her for. There was that.

  She shook her head. “I wasn’t going to tell you, but that was stupid. You’re going to find out anyway. I’m actually working with someone you know. You worked with him while you were with the CIA. He said you were together for a time in Afghanistan.”

  Ben hadn’t worked with anyone during those days. He did his job, he ordered people to do theirs.

  “Mark Sharpe.”

  The name felt like a punch to the chest as the facts quickly bombarded him. Sharpe was out of the game. Sharpe was somewhere in the Philadelphia area and Sharpe had Anna. This was unacceptable.

  “You’re working for him. Doing what?”

  “Basically, I’m helping him set up his new business. He’s left the government and settled here. He’s opened a private investigation firm specializing mostly in cold cases others won’t take.”

  “And it’s a coincidence he hired you.”

  She gave him a look as if to suggest that was a silly statement. Which it was. “No, it’s not a coincidence. He knew I worked for you, knew I had left my job and approached me directly to work for him.”

  Of course he had. Sharpe had always considered Ben a rival. Younger, more ambitious maybe, Sharpe had targeted Ben as the man to beat on his way up the government ladder. He’d shown up in Afghanistan while Ben was serving as section chief and announced to anyone listening that Ben was just keeping his job warm. Backing up his ego, Sharpe had quickly made a name for himself by taking chances no one else would. Ben considered him a talent, but also reckless.

  If he’d left the CIA, it was because he’d either taken one too many chances and Uncle Sam had given him the boot, or maybe without having his rival on hand to actively pursue, he’d simply gotten bored with the game. Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter.

  Anna was under his control, albeit in a limited way, and that was unacceptable.

  “You need to quit.”

  She snorted. “Not going to happen.”

  “You don’t know him like I do. He can be dangerous.”

  “And you can’t be? Look, I figured Mark out in five seconds. He’s an information junky just like you. It’s what makes it so easy to work with him. After six years with you, I’m pro in handling his type.”

  Ben didn’t want Anna to handle anything of Sharpe’s.

  “He’s not safe. He takes unnecessary risks—”

  “Maybe back then. But all he does now is dig up old information. It’s a decent job and it’s cool.”

  “Cool,” Ben sneered. “You sound like a child.”

  “Not so much anymore. Look, I didn’t come out here to fight with you.”

  “I didn’t, either.” This conversation wasn’t going how he planned it. He’d assumed she would offer an apology for leaving. He’d planned to be graciously forgiving as he offered her the job again. Once she came back, then he would feel as though things were finally returning to normal.

  He was going to apologize to her, too. For that night. For what he did. And yes, for how he treated her after it happened. He’d shut her down. He’d hid his treatment decision from her which angered her so much she left. Or was it because he brushed off the sex between them like it didn’t mean anything? He wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter.

  None of it had been her fault and he supposed she’d been right to be angry that he hadn’t even considered her feelings with regard to his treatment. But he had never thought she would be so angry as to walk away. Not once had he even considered Anna would leave him.

  “I came to this party because I knew you would be here and we need to talk.”

  Ben smiled. “That’s funny. I held this party because I knew you would come and I, too, think we need to talk.”

  “Don’t tell Madeleine her party is a sham.”

  “Who do you think gave me the idea?”

  Anna nodded. “She thinks she’s helping me by getting us in the same room together.”

  Ben didn’t think so. He thought Madeleine was trying to help him.

  “Party or not, I would have come to see you anyway. I mean, we worked together for six years. Hell, you were my first job out of college. Yes, I quit. And yes, I was mad, but I’m not going to hold a grudge. I really can’t anymore.”

  “You changed your cell phone number,” he accused her. The first time he’d gotten the message stating the number was no longer in use he’d been so angry he wanted to break something. Lucky for him, he’d been too weak to do anything of the sort at the time.

  “I guess I didn’t want talk then.”
r />   “But you do now?”

  “Now I have no choice.”

  She was confusing him. She was here because she needed to talk to him. Because she didn’t have a choice. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

  “You could say.”

  “What is it? I’ll fix it,” he said before she could answer his question.

  She shook her head. “Oh, you’re going to fix it? Just like that? Snap and it’s done? Sorry, forgot who I was dealing with.”

  Ben sighed. He could feel his strength waning. He’d purposefully slept for a time before the party. But talking with so many people, being on his feet for the past hour, was starting to take its toll. Not to mention the heat was draining him, as well.

  “Can we go some place? Some place cool where I can sit down.”

  Instantly, he watched her face change. Concern, sympathy and…caring. It poured out of her like she was a pitcher of water. Then he watched her deliberately shut it down, as if she was reminding herself that he wasn’t hers to care for any longer. It made him strangely sad.

  “We don’t have to do this today. We can pick another time.”

  She wouldn’t meet his eyes when she said it and he had an awful feeling that if he let her walk out on him tonight, he might never get another chance to talk with her.

  “No. I’m okay. I don’t want us to be disturbed,” he said.

  “My car’s outside. I can drive you home.”

  “That will work. I took a car service here.”

  Again, accounting for his condition. He knew driving himself to the party wouldn’t be an issue. But it was how exhausted he would be driving home that concerned him. Not comfortable with cabs and the multitude of germs that could compile in a backseat over the course of any one day, he’d hired a private car service to be on call whenever he needed to go some place.

  With the briefest of waves, he acknowledged Madeleine and a few of his other colleagues as he followed Anna through the room and outside where the valet attendant took her ticket. If he thought he saw a satisfied smile on Madeleine’s face as he left, he ignored it. The woman was blissfully in love with her fiancé and it obviously distorted her thinking.