Secret Twins For My Ex’s SEAL Best Friend (Billionaire Silver Foxes’ Club)

30. Robert

thirty

Robert

The day after Thanksgiving, Jeremy and I were seated at a quiet corner table in one of those pretentious farm-to-table restaurants he seemed to favor. He usually chose either the most pretentious place I’d ever been to or the lowliest diner, nothing in between.

By my estimate, he thought he was balancing his late-night fried food and beer binges at a diner with organic greens. He had no consistency for these types of things. The only thing he was consistent about was work, and when he felt his life was out of control, that was when he took to fixing mine.

“It’s good to see you,” Jeremy said, glancing over the menu like he wasn’t already going to order the grilled salmon he always got. “You’ve been busy every time we’ve talked lately. Is everything okay?” He sipped his iced tea.

A pang of guilt stabbed me in the chest, the real reason I’d been avoiding him. “Fine,” I said quickly, maybe too quickly.

His sharp gaze flicked up to meet mine. Jeremy had an eye for lies and unspoken truths. He knew how to catch people in them, and he was fast about it. It was irritating, having a best friend who knew your past and could almost read your mind.

But not everything on my mind. If he could, he’d be disgusted and enraged by now, I knew. He couldn’t stay in the same room with me if he knew that when my mind wandered these days, it wandered to sweet Delia’s body under mine, the whispered truths we’d told each other in the closet and in my bedroom.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “You know, you can talk to me. I can tell something’s wrong.”

I grunted, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. “That’s rich coming from you.” I saw something in Jeremy’s eyes flicker, and I knew my projection had landed on something partially true.

I leaned forward and asked, “When’s the last time you talked to me? Or is this just a one-way street? Do you get off on being the helper?”

“Hey, easy there, soldier,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. I winced, and he said, “Sorry, poor choice of words.”

Before the conversation could veer into dangerous territory, my phone buzzed on the table. I glanced at the screen and frowned. It was an email from one of my instructors. I unlocked the phone and scanned the message, my jaw tightening as I read the words.

“What is it?” Jeremy asked, his tone casual but curious.

“My self-defense classes,” I muttered, my stomach twisting. “One of the instructors is harassing the women after his sessions.”

Jeremy’s expression darkened, and he leaned forward slightly. “What kind of harassment?”

“I don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s enough that someone complained.” My voice was tight, anger simmering just below the surface. “And, of course, it’s happening on days I’m not there. Whoever it is knows that I’d put an end to it my way.”

Jeremy’s eyebrows lifted at my verbiage, but he didn’t argue. He knew it was true. I’d knock out any man bold enough to make people uncomfortable at my classes. Classes about women’s empowerment. What a fucking monster.

“What are you going to do?” he asked, his tone calm but edged with concern.

“I’m shutting it down for now,” I said, already typing out a response to the instructor and the woman who’d emailed me, someone quiet whose name I didn’t even recognize. “Nobody should feel unsafe in those classes. That’s the whole damn point.”

Jeremy nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Of course.” He looked on as I continued to type. “Let me know if you need help. I could talk to them, if that would help.”

I glanced at him, surprised by the offer. “Talk to who?” I asked, tilting my head.

“To whoever came forward. I’m a therapist. I’m pretty good at getting things out of people,” he said, as though it was obvious what he had been suggesting.

I blinked, then shook my head. “Thanks, but I’ll handle it.”

He shrugged, picking up his tea again. “Suit yourself. But this kind of thing—it can stick with people. Don’t underestimate the damage it can do.”

His words lingered as I hit send on the email, my fingers hovering over the screen for a moment. I’d asked the woman if she’d be willing to name the instructor responsible, but I already knew what the answer would be. Fear kept people silent. I understood that better than most.

I wondered what Jeremy was insinuating – that people might stop coming to my classes? That these women would be permanently damaged by this?

“Um, I’m sorry Jeremy, but I need to take care of this. Just get me the, uh, the burger,” I said, standing up.

“What burger?” he called after me, his hands planted on the menu.

“Whatever!” I shouted back, heading outside.

I stood under the awning as the rain poured, tapping the vinyl fabric aggressively.

I looked through the window at Jeremy. He was holding his head in his hands, no doubt worried for me and the future of the self-defense classes.

I pulled out my phone and looked through my contacts for Delia, whose number I hadn’t yet used. It felt strange to call her, like our meetings had all been chance and now I was disrupting fate.

She answered as the waiter walked up to Jeremy. I turned around with my back against the window, looking out at the onslaught of water coming down in sheets.

“Hello?” Delia’s voice was soft and slightly breathless like she’d been running.

“Delia, it’s Robert.”

She laughed a little, and I could picture the upturn of her lips. “I know,” she replied with a smile in her voice.

“Right. Hey, I can’t talk long. But there’s been a problem with the self-defense classes,” I said carefully. “One of the instructors has been harassing a woman. Well, one woman that we know of right now. I’ve shut things down for now anyway, but even if they start up again, until I figure out who’s responsible, I don’t want you going back. Don’t go near that building at all, in fact.”

There was a pause on the other end, and I could hear her breathing, steady but slightly quicker than usual. “Okay,” she said softly. “Thanks for letting me know. I’m sorry this is happening.”

I appreciated her care, but I felt sorrier than she should. I’d vetted all the men and women on my team. I had trusted each of them. Most were former cops, firefighters, self-defense teachers themselves. This was a betrayal. “Be careful,” I said, the words feeling inadequate but necessary. “And if anything feels off—anything—you tell me. Understand?”

“I understand,” she said, her voice quieter now. “Thanks, Robert. I…” she hesitated and then blurted, “I miss you.”

I paused, taken aback. I missed her, too, but what Corinne had said had stuck with me. I didn’t know how to handle any of this. “I miss you, too. We’ll see each other soon.”

“When?” she asked fervently, her voice quiet and low.

“Soon,” I promised.

After we hung up, I stood outside for a moment, the weight of everything pressing down on me. The situation with the classes, the growing feelings I couldn’t seem to shake for Delia, the way Corinne felt about Delia, the unspoken tension with Jeremy - it was all too much.

But I couldn’t afford to lose focus. Not now. Whoever was responsible for the harassment at the center would be dealt with, no matter what it took. And as for Delia… I’d figure that out later. Right now, I just needed to keep her safe.

I checked my email and saw that the woman who’d come forward didn’t want to tell me who it was. Go figure.

I knew I shouldn’t be angry. It was a scary position to be in. But how was I expected to help without knowing who was doing it? Was I supposed to shut down the classes forever?

I needed some more time to think before going back inside the restaurant, so I got in my car and just sat there, staring at the steering wheel.

I needed answers. If the woman wouldn’t name the instructor, I’d have to find another way to figure it out. As I watched people file in and out of their cars, I glanced up and saw a camera in the corner of the building. Another way.

I pulled out my phone and called the instructor who’d told me, Heather. She answered on the second ring, her usually friendly voice brisk. She knew how bad this was for the classes and how hard this hit was for me.

“Robert,” she said, inviting whatever it was I was going to say.

“Question. Would you be able to get me the parking lot footage from the library? The whole center, really, obviously. I could try, but I think people generally respond better to you.” I smiled as I leaned back in the driver’s seat.

It was true. I wasn’t good with people when I was on a mission. I could come off as intense, angry, too much.

“Hm,” she said, to herself more than to me. “I could try. I don’t know. They might hold that close to the chest. But I could try.”

“Well, if they hold it close to the chest, we’ll involve lawyers,” I spat angrily, as if they’d already told me no.

With an exhale out of her nose, she corrected, “You mean you’ll involve lawyers.”

“That is what I mean, yes,” I agreed. “ I’ll involve lawyers if I have to. So let’s hope they’re…receptive.”

She chuckled. “I knew this would put a fire under your ass, Robert, knowing that pretty young thing you’re sweet on might be in trouble.”

I cringed at her word choice. “Are you done?” I asked, tightening my fingers around the steering wheel.

“If I get the footage, what days do you want them to send?” Heather asked, her voice softening when she realized that she’d bothered me.

“Every day that the victim was in class. No matter who was there. Just have them send it all to me if they agree to it,” I told her, looking out the windshield of my car at the people returning to their cars. I wondered how many of the men holding the hands of the women they were with had hurt someone. I wondered how many of them would do the same if I were there to see.