Chapter 2
Benson
“…There’s just something about the department heads who have, I dunno, really inspired me, Daddy.
” Drew was still in the middle of her spiel as appetizers went cold on the table between them.
“I never once saw myself as an Italian Studies major, but it just makes sense. I was already taking Italian as my language requirement, then I started filling in my other credits with whatever I could get with Prof. Leguizamo…” She cocked her head, aware that her father was staring off into the abyss. “Dad?”
Italian Studies. Italian. Studies. Of all the humanities… of all the liberal arts concentrations she could have picked…
Italian Studies.
“I’m…” He pushed himself upright, attempting to keep his elbows off the table like his mother – and Sydney – once taught him. “I’m happy for you, peach. It’s important to have something that keeps you mentally engaged and focused on your studies right now.”
Her grin was the kind of million-watt smile that thawed his frozen fatherly heart. “Really? So, you’re not upset?”
“Upset?” He scoffed. “Why would I be upset?”
She snatched his wineglass instead of sipping on her mocktail.
After helping herself to an underage sip – like he would stop her, as long as nobody was looking – she declared, “I dunno. I just had this whole scenario in my head that you would be freaked out that I was wasting my Brown education on Italian. I really did try to get into more ‘practical’ things, Daddy, but you know I’ve never been great at STEM stuff, and anything with numbers is beyond me.
But I love languages. And cultural stuff.
I might do an Art History minor to go with an Italian major. What do you think?”
“Honey, I think you have your whole life ahead of you. I just want you to be able to thrive even if I’m not around anymore.”
“I know. It’s about money.”
“Brown is as much about networking and the name as it is the actual education itself. The whole reason I got on my career path in finance is because of who I got buddy-buddy with while there. Believe it or not, my most powerful connection came from a rival frat to mine. That reminds me, are you rushing this semester?” It was her spring semester of sophomore year.
While Sydney was more invested in which sorority their daughter might join, Benson was the one intimately familiar with Brown’s Greek life.
He knew the reputations – yes, even among the sororities.
There’s one I’d be dead over if she joins.
When he was at Brown, that particular sisterhood was all about partying with frats like his.
Most of my girlfriends came from there. He had learned way too much from them. All the wrong things.
“Maybe.” Drew fussed with her hair before stabbing one of their appetizers on a fork. “It’s kinda competitive. And I spend so much time off campus that I wonder if it’s worth it.”
“Peach,” he said, attempting to sound like a fatherly authority figure, “if you’re majoring in Italian, you should go for a sorority. You need those job connections.”
Her smile faltered. “Suppose you’re right.”
“I’m just being realistic. You know me. Always have a plan, in case everything blows up. That’s why your old man is in finance. But…” He reclaimed his wine, indulging in the fragrant flavor before continuing. “I did a minor in Sociology, so whatever. I still pursued some passions.”
“Really? Sociology?”
“Why do you think I’m so good at understanding why people do the things they do?”
She giggled. Drew’s giggle never failed to make her father’s heart lighter.
“So!” She scrunched her shoulders toward her ears with that smile still on her baby face. “What’s new with you? Mom said you skipped out on the country to disconnect on some Caribbean Island last weekend.”
“Oh, that reminds me.” Benson reached into his inner jacket pocket to fish out his gift for her. “For you, peach.”
“Oooh!” It was actually two things. The first was a duty-free cosmetic from a foreign brand he knew she loved, and the other was a wood carving by a “local artist.” What he didn’t tell her was that he picked these up at the airport on the way back from La Mariposa.
There are… no souvenirs on that island. Not the kind he could give to his daughter, anyway.
But when he had a decent layover, he took a moment to pick out thoughtful gifts.
“Thanks! You know, this was always my favorite part of you traveling around when I was a kid.”
“Wish I hadn’t done so much of that back then.”
“Really?
“Of course. I would have rather been with you. And your mother.”
Drew carefully placed both gifts into her bag. “What did you do in the Caribbean? Just hang out and work on your tan?”
She asked that so innocently that it almost broke Benson’s corrupted heart. “I caught up with some parts of myself that I had been neglecting. You know me. I work too much.”
“That’s true. Mom still gripes about it, and she’s been remarried once already.”
“Yeah, well, you know what they say about your first real love.”
“No. What do they say?”
Again… she was so innocent. “You don’t really stop caring about them. I’m sure your mother will always fret over me the way I worry about her.”
“Oh? What do you worry about?”
“Nothing she doesn’t know about.”
“Come on. Throw me a bone. I’m old enough to handle it.”
“Well…” What was there to say? So much of it was old hat now that he barely thought about it.
I loved your mother. We didn’t work out.
It’s for the best. We both moved on. I still worry about her.
He didn’t carry a torch for his ex, nor had he thought about her sexually for the past several years.
But she was the mother of his child. She had a good soul.
And the way she continued to henpeck him in certain ways over the years showed that she still cared, even if it was under the guise of wanting him to be around for their daughter’s sake.
There were just some things she couldn’t accept about me.
About us. It went beyond his kink. It was his very sexuality that had sent her over the edge.
Drew tapped the table to get his attention again.
“She worries about me working myself to death and not being around when you need me,” he said.
“And I worry about that history of breast cancer in her family. Doesn’t just extend to you, peach, but your mother is now that age where she needs to be vigilant.
Make sure she goes to her screenings, will you? ”
The solemn softness radiating from Drew’s direction was poignantly mature. “Of course, Daddy. I’ll be careful, too.”
He was content thinking that would be that, but Drew interrupted his thoughts once more.
“Did you meet anyone cool on your trip?”
Something like that could have easily made him spiral.
I certainly did. In a way, he had met two interesting people, although there was nothing he actually knew about the other man Eden had been with that weekend.
I feel like I know him, though. He felt like he knew every man who had a piece of her that weekend.
I once knew a guy who would have gone crazy for that…
His throat was dry. So was his mouth.
“Daddy?”
He snapped out of his stupor. Gone were any thoughts of Eden as “Brim,” although he certainly preferred not to think like that in front of his daughter. “I, uh…” He let himself talk, although he knew he would regret it. “I guess Liam called me today. Tried to get through to me at work.”
A slight gasp rattled Drew’s chest. She sat up straight, hands wrapped around her mocktail glass. Was she more surprised by the news or that her father had included her in that? Eat it up, peach. You’re a big girl now.
“Uncle Liam?” she asked.
“Yes. Your uncle Liam.” Of course, the man had not been Drew’s actual uncle, but that was how she knew him when he was around while she graduated from middle school and found her way in high school.
The man used to tutor her in chemistry, for fuck’s sake.
That was how close they had all been during those times, although Sydney didn’t like it.
Told me he was a bad influence on our impressionable daughter.
He had no idea what gave her that idea… Liam had always known better than to flirt with Sydney, and it was totally in his wheelhouse to have done so.
That pervert loved older women as much as he loved younger women.
The man was like Benson in a lot of ways. They both loved women.
Sometimes, Benson wished he had a son. Not because he resented having the lovely daughter in front of him, but because if there was one thing he knew how to pass on to an aspiring mature male, it was a haughty respect for women.
Any son of mine would have that drilled into his head from the moment he could perceive the world.
A woman hadn’t just brought this hypothetical boy into the world…
they had cared for him, taught him, doctored him, fed him, teased him, loved him…
There was nothing better than that, as attested whenever he looked at his daughter.
“What did he want?” she asked. “Do you think…?”
“I have no idea what he wanted. I regret telling you.”
“Daddy.”
“What? That was a long time ago.”
“Come on. You can’t go bringing up Uncle Liam without making a ton of memories explode in my head. He taught me how to handle pricks at school way better than you ever did.”
“He told you to kick them in the balls!”
“It’s served me well, Daddy. Authority’s never cared when I’m in trouble.”
Rolling his eyes, Benson experienced double the regret.
I should never have brought him up. Liam was a volatile man who had embedded himself in Benson’s professional life…
and his personal life. When they had a falling out to rock the ages, Benson was as sour as when he separated from Sydney…
and as sick as when he found out his ex-wife was already dating someone else.
When any kind of relationship is over, it’s over.
It was something he had become accustomed to in his life.
Which was why La Mariposa was supposed to be easy… he was never supposed to see those ladies again…
“You should call him back.” Like a damn therapist, Drew folded her hands on the table and wiggled her arms like she had any business giving him advice. “At least see what he wants. Maybe it’s something good!”
“See, this is how I know you’re still a kid. You have so much optimism about people’s intentions.”
“Well, I hope I don’t become a grumpy old curmudgeon anytime soon. Like you.”
“Did you just call me old? Me? The man who gives you a monthly spending allowance?”
She giggled again. Damnit. Always straight to his old-man heart.
Their entrees arrived. Benson welcomed the reprieve from a subject he should have never brought up. There’s someone else to think about, anyway.
Eden. The woman he desperately hoped would text him soon.