Rhythm of Us: Book 2 Of The Fated Hearts Series (16 page)

“Sorry, Ben.” If he were any kind of PA, he would have body tackled her before she got through my door. His distressed voice made it impossible for me to be irritated with him.

“You can make it up to me later with a giant banana nut muffin.” I hit the speakerphone button to disconnect the call from Ian then turned away from my conference table where I had been reviewing Drew’s revised mockups for the aquarium pitch, right before my mother walked into my office. “Mother.” I took in her outfit while I rose to my feet. It never ceased to amaze me that my mother dressed like the Queen of England every day, regardless if she stayed home or went out; the only thing missing was a hat.

“Bennett, I stopped by to ask a favor of you, but it’s
obvious
you don’t want me here.” Beverly’s performance of unappreciated mother was worthy of an Emmy. I shuttered to think what they’d call a daytime soap opera based on my family.

“I’m a very busy man with a lot of responsibilities.” I refused to fall for her “poor, poor pitiful me” act. I especially wouldn’t let her ruin my day, because I had a stakeout to plan with Xavier for later that evening. I needed to see him and be reassured that he was doing okay after such an emotional night. “What can I do for you, Mother?”

“Well, I see where I rate.” Beverly huffed and rolled her eyes so dramatically that I nearly clapped my hands. “I’d like for you to escort me to a charity function in a few weeks.” I groaned loudly, but that didn’t faze her. “Your father and I have donated a lot of money to support LGBT youth in
your
honor, so the least that you can do is go with me. Your father is otherwise
engaged
for the evening.” That was Beverly’s euphemism for my father spending time with his mistress, aka Shameless Hussy. “I supported you when you came out as gay, but not every child is so fortunate, Bennett. I’d think you would welcome my efforts.”

Jesus Christ on a cracker! My mother’s idea of supporting me was a fucking joke, but not a funny one. “When is the event, Mother?” I didn’t feel like I owed her a fucking thing, but she was still my mother and I would show her respect, deserving or not.

“It’s three weeks from Saturday. You’ll need to pick me up at 6:00 pm,” she added gleefully.

I entered the date and time in my phone’s calendar and looked back up to find her smiling smugly at me. It occurred to me that something else was at play, but I didn’t have time to find out. “Is there anything else you needed to discuss?”

“No, that will do for now. I’ll let you get back to coloring.” Beverly whirled and left my office, leaving behind the cloying smell of her overpriced perfume.

A few minutes later, Ian rapped timidly at my door before he opened it and peeked around the corner to gauge my mood after the ice queen’s visit. I was rooted to the same spot as I was in when she drove her ice pick through my heart.
Coloring? Is that really what she thought I did? Why did I continue to attempt a relationship with her?

“Ben, do you want the muffin now? I can run downstairs and get it for you.” Ian’s voice was soft with understanding. I looked up at him and saw concern etched on his face. His cheeks were was bright pink, which made the freckles on his face stand out. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Why is your face all red and why are you talking to me like I’m a wounded animal?” I cocked my head slightly to the side and studied his posture. Ian always carried himself proudly, but right then he resembled a whipped dog. “What did Cruella say to you?”

“It was nothing for you to get upset about, Ben.” Ian’s words said one thing, but his body language said something entirely different. Ian was normally vibrant and bubbling with enthusiasm, but this Ian doppelganger was downtrodden. This wasn’t the first time my mom said or did something to Ian, but each time I let him blow it off.

“Come in here and shut the door.” My tone of voice made it absolutely clear that I wasn’t asking him. I rounded my desk and sat in my comfortable chair and gestured for him to also take a seat. “I want you to come clean right here and now, Ian.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to get really mad.” Ian wouldn’t look at me and I was certain he feared I’d be mad at him, but why? “I should’ve told you as soon as I was hired, but I really needed this job after Josh and I broke up.”

“Ian,” I began, leaning my elbows on my desk, “I do not have time for games. I need you to tell me what it is that my mother says and does to you every time she stops by my office. Look at me, Ian.” I slapped my hand on my desk to get him to look at me. “What the hell is going on?”

“I’m the Shameless Hussy’s son.” He blinked rapidly while he waited for the news to sink into my brain.

“Oh my fucking god.” I threw my head back and laughed hysterically. “That’s just fucking rich.” I slapped the desk a few more times over the hilarity of the situation. “My coldhearted mother - who hasn’t been a faithful wife in probably two decades or longer – holds a grudge against you because your mother is my father’s mistress? Oh, I can’t wait to tell my brother, Bevan.” My humor dissolved quickly when it occurred to me that maybe . . .

“I’m not your brother.” Ian answered my unspoken question, which was nothing new; he was a regular Radar O’Reilly. The awkwardness of the moment was broken when Ian giggle-snorted at the look on my face. “You don’t have to look so relieved that we’re not related. Jackass!”

“Christmas is expensive enough when I’m buying you a gift as my personal assistant. I’d really have to step up my game if you’re my half-brother too.”

“Sure, that’s what you were worried about.” Ian’s normally confident façade slipped and exposed his vulnerability.

“Did you know before I hired you?”

“I knew that Daniel had sons, but I didn’t know one of them worked here. I simply responded to the job posting I saw online. I figured it out when you interviewed me, because you look so much like
him.
” Ian’s obvious disdain for my father was palpable.

“I’m surprised you didn’t run right then and there, Ian.” I couldn’t help but wonder what he witnessed to make him dislike my father so much, besides the obvious. “Is my father good to your mother?” I wanted to take the question back as soon as it left my mouth.

“That’s not a simple yes or no answer, Ben.” Ian’s hesitant tone did nothing to appease my regret for opening that particular can of worms. “Daniel treats my mother very well and I think he’s truly in love with her, but he’ll never leave your mother and so I resent the fact that she pines for a man who doesn’t love her enough to either give her the life she deserves or let her go. I don’t dislike Daniel, but I distrust him. I feel like he’s led my mother on for five years and she believes him when he says they’ll really be together someday. Do you honestly see that happening?”

“Not unless Beverly dies.” Ian flinched at my blunt response. “Beverly was handpicked by my grandparents to marry my father based on her pedigree and my father will not risk losing his social status, career, and access to the family trust to be with your mother, so you are absolutely correct to resent him in your mother’s life. I’m certain she deserves a hell of a lot better than him.”

I sat back in my chair in stunned silence, because I meant what I had just said about his mother deserving more. I had spent my entire childhood and teenage years being miserable as I watched my parents throw their affairs in one another’s faces. I came to despise cheaters, including my parents, and their selfish ways, to the point that I automatically disliked anyone associated with the act.

I thought back to how I made Chase’s life miserable at every opportunity when I thought he had been fucking around with Gray’s then-boyfriend, Devon. It took me a long time and some interference on Gray’s behalf before I allowed myself to consider that Chase was also a victim of Devon’s betrayal. I accepted that there might’ve been more to the story and let myself get to know Chase, the real person and not the surprise birthday party crasher Devon brought home to fuck when he thought Gray was out of town. God, Chase and Gray’s unconventional start to a relationship still amazed me and made me smile. Now, I considered Chase to be one of my best friends and felt lucky to have him in my life.

“Oh.” Ian’s dejected tone snapped me out of my thoughts and I immediately regretted my brash answer to his question. “Well, I appreciate your honesty, even though it feels like you just punched me in the stomach.” Ian closed his eyes for a few seconds before he reopened them and locked those laser-like blue eyes on me. “Will this impact our working relationship? I really enjoy working for you and I think I do a good job.” Ian sounded extremely nervous and I wanted to put him at ease.

“This changes absolutely nothing, except that my mother will no longer be welcome here. That is one thing I can fix for you and I will. You’re not responsible for your mother’s behavior, nor am I responsible for my father’s. You don’t deserve to be treated so disrespectfully by Beverly and I wish you had told me sooner.”

“Thank you.” The gratitude in his voice made me feel like I accomplished something good and it made the fixer inside of me very happy. “Seriously, do you want some coffee or anything?”

“Not right now, but thank you.” Ian smiled at me, got to his feet, and headed for the door. “Ian,” I called out, stopping him before he could leave. “You’re
excellent
at your job, not just good.”

“I’ll remind you of that in a few months when we have my annual review.” Ian’s sassy reply was emphasized by a dramatic exit from my office.

The rest of the morning passed really quickly and I was able to get a lot accomplished. I decided to have lunch by myself so I could do some research on recovering from domestic abuse and drug addiction. I wasn’t putting the cart before the horse; I just didn’t want to do or say the wrong things in my fragile new friendship with Xavier. Of course, I was interested in him beyond friendship, but I was willing to accept whatever he was willing to give. Memories of Xavier’s passionate display popped up in my mind. A broad smile spread across my face and my tender ass quivered in reverence. Yes, I would gladly do whatever Xavier needed to feel better.

I happened to catch my goofy smile in the reflection of a gift shop window as I started to walk past. I couldn’t recall ever seeing such a dopey expression on my face before and laughed out loud at myself. A few pedestrians veered away from me as if they thought I was a lunatic, which only made me laugh harder. Then I noticed a display with a few items that would be perfect for the stakeout later that night and I couldn’t resist buying them for comic relief, if nothing else.

THIS ISN’T A
date. This isn’t a date.
I repeated those words to myself over and over as I got ready for the stakeout. I still spent extra time picking out an outfit and trying to get my hair to lay right. I was probably two months past a haircut and it was too shabby to style. I thought about bringing back the Rick Springfield look, then decided against it and made a mental note to myself: get a haircut.

Ellie was curled up asleep on the couch for which I was grateful, because I didn’t have to lie to her about my evening plans. It wasn’t like I could tell her the truth and I surely didn’t want her to get the wrong impression about me spending time with Ben. I could see the hopeful gleam in her eye when I came home from Ben’s house the previous night. She didn’t grill me about what we did that time, because it was probably pretty obvious.

I honestly couldn’t recall a time I had felt so relaxed in over two years. It felt great to unload my burdens to Ben without him looking at me in disgust or loathing. Okay, the sex had been phenomenal, but I wouldn’t let my mind go there knowing I would be locked in a car with him during the stakeout. It wouldn’t take much for me to throw myself at him and that wouldn’t be fair to him.

Ben was walking down the front steps by the time I parked my car in his driveway and got out. My eyes raked over his casual attire of jeans that were so old they were threadbare in places, a faded blue t-shirt, and a pair of Corona flip-flops.

“Evening,” he said with a friendly smile. “You ready to stakeout this fucker?”