Chapter 6
Benson
He almost couldn’t believe that she actually showed up. Was that weird to think? Because while Benson Smith was not a man used to being stood up by women, it wasn’t unheard of. Especially if there was history. Awkward history.
Like that time he told an ex that her favorite color, metallic blue, was not flattering on her figure.
Or that time he introduced a date to his partners by calling her the wrong name.
I’m not perfect. He wasn’t even counting the dates who lost interest in him when they found out he had a daughter.
Those were a lost cause from the beginning.
Granted, now that Drew had grown up and was taking care of herself, most potential long-term partners didn’t care.
Benson was “mature.” If anything, his daughter loving him so much made him hotter on the market.
No, he wasn’t perfect. But he had convinced this woman to go on at least one date with him, and he wasn’t about to blow it.
He expected her to be tense like before, but Eden was surprisingly…
relaxed. She met him in the restaurant lobby with a confident gait that strutted straight from her Uber, her heavy winter coat hanging off her shoulders as she bravely faced the freezing winter night in heels and a dark pink dress that hugged her every curve.
Although it was the most covered he had ever seen her, Benson couldn’t stop staring – Eden was the very image of a goddess bedecking the cityscape.
And he was the lucky bastard to go out with her.
“I had no idea this place was so nice.” She had the seat against the wall while Benson sat in the chair across from her.
A candle flickered between them, and their waiter, a man Benson recognized as the owner’s nephew, rattled off the specials before leaving them with their menus.
Benson had ordered them both drinks and already knew what he wanted, but Eden said she had never been here before and wanted to look over things.
“I’ve walked by tons of times but never once thought about coming inside. Don’t know why.”
“It was ranked the best Thai restaurant in the state last year. I was shocked I could get reservations so last-minute.”
Eden stopped unfolding her cloth napkin halfway through pulling it into her lap.
“Really?” She had shed her coat and left it on the back of her seat, and all Benson could do was stare at her arms, her cleavage, her face.
All three unsettled his stomach in that earnest way of a man falling in love.
Down, boy. Just because Eden was a fantastic plaything on a pleasure island didn’t mean she was perfect girlfriend material.
Keep it in my pants long enough to find out, huh?
“I recommend the pumpkin curry. They have it year-round here.”
“Maybe I’ll try that. I admit, outside of pad thai and fried rice, I don’t know much about Thai cuisine.”
“Well, those are two important basics. The tom kha gai soup is also great. Honestly, anything coconut-based is good.”
Eden finished settling in and picked up her menu. “I see. What do you usually get?”
“The red curry with chicken. Super simple, but there’s something about their recipe that’s very decadent. Clean, too.”
“Decadent and clean? Interesting.”
“I know.”
She went back to looking at the menu before peering at him as the waiter returned with their drinks. “Can we get the spring rolls?” she timidly asked, the first sign that she wasn’t all bluster that night.
“We can get whatever you desire.”
“Okay, but I can’t eat all four. I’ll need help.”
He agreed to help her eat them. Even if I can’t, she can have the leftovers. Benson wasn’t as into fried food. Not since his father developed – and survived – colon cancer ten years ago. Still alive. Still driving my mother nuts.
Benson ordered his red curry with chicken, and Eden said she’d try the pumpkin after his recommendation. Unlike him, she got hers vegetarian style with extra garden staples. Once the owner’s nephew was gone again, Benson and Eden faced each other while a candle flame flickered between them.
“So,” Eden began.
“So,” he concluded.
That was the extent of the conversation while Eden’s gaze wandered toward the décor, and Benson sniffed the rum in his drink.
Rum. Why did I get rum? Was it because Eden reminded him of the Caribbean?
Of what he drank the last time they were together there?
Or maybe I just like rum. There were worse liquors.
“I know two things about you,” she said, steepling her fingers together to point them in his direction. “First, you’re an investment advisor. Second, you have a daughter who goes to Brown. Like you did.”
He couldn’t help himself. “Financial advisor.”
“Huh?”
“I’m specifically a financial advisor.”
“What’s the difference?”
He took his cue to put his own napkin in his lap.
“I don’t just advise about investments to people, although that is something I can do.
It’s just not my specialty. Instead, I’m a big picture personal finance guy.
I help people who either have or come into larger sums of money decide what to do with it.
From structuring debt payments to savings accounts, Roth IRAs, taxes…
and, yes, stocks and such. Usually, I have clients who want to invest in a friend’s business or whatever, and it’s my job to tell them that’s incredibly dumb, but if they insist, here’s how much they can afford to lose.
A percentage. A solid figure. Whatever keeps them from collapsing like a house of cards. ”
“Right. Which is why my friend referred me to you guys.”
“Serendipitous of them.”
“Surely.” Eden nervously played with a simple red ring on her middle finger. “Is that what you went to school for?”
“Yes. Although I minored in Sociology.”
“Really? Huh.”
“What?”
She shrugged. “You just don’t strike me as a humanities guy.”
“I like the big picture,” he explained. “What makes the whole. Some people are very good at micromanaging, studying the nitty-gritty, or being so good at one thing that they become the go-to experts in their fields. Me… I’m the one you call when you need the macro.
I’ll delegate and leave you alone as long as you turn in good work on time.
Or if you take me to the market, I’ll peruse the whole store so quickly that I’m out in five minutes with everything I need.
Same with people. You’ve got health, mental stuff, histories and languages… ”
“Wow,” Eden said when he paused. “So, you don’t stress the small stuff.”
“No. I stress the big stuff.”
She briefly laughed, letting him see her smile between two naturally pink lips.
How can she still be so beautiful? While Benson had been beside himself that this woman was in his town, he had morbidly thought that, perhaps, his passion for her would be dead here in the real world.
The cracks in her perfection would show, be it through poor conduct or a personality that displayed what she was really like here in the city.
Because Benson was under no illusion. Butterflies were actresses.
They had personas. Their jobs were to be seductive, flirty, and sexually available, which must have been a full-time job mentally as well as physically.
There was no way that Eden was like that all the time.
Indeed, she wasn’t. But the “real” side of her that Benson had seen so far was more than acceptable. If anything, she just projected a certain vulnerability that endeared her more to him.
He was about to ask her something about herself when she said, “I always wondered what going to an Ivy League would be like. I grew up in California. About as removed from the Ivy League as you could get.”
She’s a California girl? Somehow, Benson hadn’t guessed it, and he usually had an eye for what region someone was from.
“I wish I could say I appreciated it enough, but I didn’t.
Hopefully, my daughter appreciates it more.
” He then grumbled, “Even though I just found out she’s going to major in Italian… ”
Eden had caught that. “Really? You can major in Italian at Brown? Huh. I had no idea that was a thing.”
“Me neither, until last night.”
“Let me guess…” A mischievous glint tickled her eyes. “You’re paying for it, Mr. Finance.”
He scoffed, but not at her – at how astute she was. “Of course I am. To be fair, though, her mother is paying for the living expenses, and that is somehow almost as expensive as books and tuition these days.”
More questions burned in Eden’s cheeks, but she kept them to herself as Benson leaned across the table, his chin hovering above the tealight candle still burning between them.
“So, what do you do?”
She was a puppy awkwardly backed into the corner of a cage.
Or so he surmised when he realized how intently he must have been looking at her with shadows licking his face.
And from the way she fiddled with her hair, glancing away and fussing with her coat until it was bundled beside her.
Benson took the hint. He casually sat a little farther back, finger on his upper lip as his elbow found a perch on the table.
“Well…” she began, those perfectly pink lips pursed.
“I’m sort of between things right now. I hesitate to say career because…
” She shook her head, eyes focused on something between her nails in her lap.
“I’ve never had one.” She blew something out of her face.
It took Benson a moment to realize it was a suffering sigh.
“The whole reason I took that resort job is because I knew the money would last me a long while if I used it right. Figure out what to do. Maybe go back to school or some kind of training course. To be honest, it’s insanely difficult to figure out what to do in this current economy.
Feels like as soon as I set my focus on something, it’s oversaturated, and now it’s my fault for being stupid enough to choose it. ”