Chapter 20
Kourtney
“ E mma, can you find me the number for this guy, please? The one I found is a bust.” I put the document on her new desk in the office attached to my own and smile at her bubbly demeanor as she straightens her knickknacks on the shelf behind the desk.
She smiles wide in greeting and spins on her heel to look the papers over. “I’ll get right on it.”
I drop into the armchair she brought from her old desk and watch as she types away on her computer. “Have I said how happy I am that you’re finally here?”
She giggles, rolling her eyes. “Only multiple times every day since I’ve gotten here. But that’s okay, because have I told you how happy I am to finally be here?”
I laugh, looking around the space. In just a week, she’s turned this office from a blank white room with four walls and a plain glass door into a calming yet modern office. The photo she has hung on the wall of her and her father makes me smile before I head back to my own office.
Nerves bubble up in my stomach as it gets later in the day.
Since our night in my tub, Tiny has asked me to come back to his house for a few days now. I've found random excuses about needing to work late the last two evenings, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer today.
I gave in, talking myself into just getting it over with. My job is to speak to people and convince them to think the way that I want them to, so you’d think I wouldn’t be afraid of Tiny’s mom and aunt.
But the truth is, I’m absolutely terrified.
Emma finds the number before leaving for the day. After calling the right man, I spend the rest of the late afternoon more agitated and more than ready to leave for the day.
I’ve looked at the clock a total of forty-two more times today, and finally, the clock turns five p.m. Shoving away from my desk, I pull my baby blue Neverfull MM Louis Vuitton from the locked drawer at the bottom of the large filing cabinet. I pack up all of the things I usually take home with me– my laptop, a notebook with small notes I jot down for current cases I’m working on, and my favorite tumbler full of ice water– and expertly organize it to fit in the large bag.
The office is quiet, and it seems as though I’m the last one here. Just as I switch the lights off to my office and close the door behind me, the chirp of the alarm system Tiny installed alerts me that the front door has opened.
“Hello?” I call out from the hall, making my way towards the lobby.
My eyes widen when I come in contact with the last person I thought I’d ever have to see again.
Benjamin .
“What are you doing here?” I stammer, taking a small step back.
Dressed in one of his favored pressed suits, there’s not a spec of dirt marring his too-perfect image. His dark hair is expertly combed as if he just went to a barber this morning. Ben and Matt would look almost identical if it weren’t for the small details, which show that Matthew is the older version of the two. He has small wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, which Ben doesn’t have quite yet, as well as a few grays sprinkled throughout his goatee. I was immediately attracted to Ben when we first met in school. I’d be lying if I didn’t also think that Matt was easy on the eyes as well, but all of that attraction left the window as soon as I learned what a disgusting pig he is.
You hear those stories of women falling for things men say, and you think, ‘How could she be so stupid?’ Well, I’ll tell you. They sweet talk you. They trick you. They show you this wonderful person that you can’t help but be drawn to, that you can’t help falling for. That’s how Matt and Ben are. They both make you think they’re sweet, that they want what’s best for you, that they have your best interest at heart. Then, right when they have you where they want you, they sweep the rug from right under your feet.
Matt probably treats Evelyn like a queen sometimes and a punching bag-slash-doormat at others.
Ben was the lesser of two evils. Yes, he could sweet talk just as well as his brother, but it didn’t take me long after the breakup to truly see the things he used to do and the comments he used to make that I would easily brush under the carpet, so to speak.
Why is he here?
Smiling, Ben steps forward, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Can’t say hi?”
I shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest. “What do you want, Benjamin?”
He huffs out a small laugh. “Benjamin? Since when do you call me Benjamin?”
“Since your piece of shit brother decided to blackmail me and run me out of town,” I say snarkily.
His eyes widen, then lower into a glare. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
I drop my bag onto Mila’s desk. The thing is heavy, and I don’t know how long this conversation is going to last.
“The way I heard it is he didn’t give you a measly promotion, so you threw a hissy fit and ran off. Oh yeah, after sleeping with my brother. How could you be so stupid, Kourtney? You really thought by giving him your body, you’d just get promoted to partner? I mean, how dumb can you be? What did you think he would do, leave Evelyn for you?”
These are the little comments that Ben used to make— belittling me. But when we were dating, he was always quick to add a compliment to the end. At the time, I would eat those compliments up and totally brush away the nasty comments he would toss into conversation.
Jesus. I’m getting a headache. I pinch the bridge of my nose and push out a heavy breath.
Turning a harsh glare on him, I force myself to take a calming breath before I lose every last bit of sanity I have. “Actually,” I reply, my tone threaded with exhaustion and annoyance, “I never slept with your brother.”
He lets out another condescending laugh. “You expect me to believe you? Matt himself told me you did. He felt bad for sleeping with my ex. Why would he lie?”
I throw my arms up. “How the fuck am I supposed to know why he would lie? I did not sleep with your brother, Ben. So, for real, why are you here, and how did you even find me?”
“Seems my sister-in-law wanted me to know that her cheating husband’s mistress just so happens to now be fucking her nephew.”
My eyes widen. Evelyn called Ben? Why would she do that? Oh God. This could be bad.
“Why did you come?”
Ben takes a few steps forward, forcing me to step back, but unfortunately, Mila’s desk is right behind me, putting a halt to my retreat. Reaching his hand out, Ben grips the side of my face, running his thumb along my jaw and onto my bottom lip. “I miss you, Kourtney.”
My brows furrow. What the hell?
At my puzzled expression, he smirks. “We were so good together, no?”
I shake my head, goosebumps rising along my arms. Not the good kind of goosebumps. Ben’s grip on the side of my face is not one of care or intimacy. He isn’t holding my face like a past lover who misses someone. He has a forceful grip that tells me that missing me is the last thing he feels.
“You’re hurting me, Ben.”
“Oh, sorry,” he smiles sheepishly as if he truly is sorry. Loosening his grip, he trails the backs of his fingers where he was just squeezing me, almost like he’s trying to soothe the new ache caused by his own hand.
“Can you just tell me what you’re doing here? Please?” I ask, my voice shaky.
He backs up and grips the edges of his suit, buttoning his blazer back together. “I just came to say hi.”
“You came all the way here to say hi?”
“I was in town.”
“For?”
“What kind of brother would I be if I didn’t come on a little trip with my brother to support him while he wins his wife back?”
It doesn’t escape me that he voices it as an absolute, not a possibility .
I choke on the spit I try to swallow and let my gaze fall to the hardwood floor. “Matt’s here?”
“What?” Ben smiles sinisterly. “You afraid he’s going to tell your new little fuck toy how much of a whore you are?”
I let out a squeak and meet his cruel stare once again.
I knew Ben was upset about our breakup at the time, but I didn’t realize he thought of me that way. Well, considering he’s truly convinced that I slept with his brother, it makes sense.
It doesn’t surprise me that he believes him over me. Ben always lived up his brother’s ass, living out his whole life for Matt’s approval.
He laughs, and it sounds silly, but the laugh that comes out of him is straight evil. It’s like one of those laughs from a movie villain when his plan is all coming together.
It causes more goosebumps to rise on my skin and dread to pool deep in my belly.
What if Matt has already made it to Tiny? What if he says something to him that will make him believe his lies over me? What do I do then?
“I’ll be around, sweetheart.”
Nausea rises in my throat at the old pet name, and I force out a breath as the alarm chirps with his departure.
I don’t know how long I stand there, panicking at the thought of Tiny being disgusted with me once again. My phone chirps from my bag, shaking off my momentary stupor, and I find Tiny’s smiling face on my screen.
Sliding my finger across it to accept the call, I bring the cold device to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hey, honey.” I exhale harshly at his easy tone. Okay. Matt hasn’t gotten to him yet.
I curse internally when my voice still shakes. “Hey, what’s up?”
“I was just seeing if you still wanted to come for dinner. Evie went out, so it’ll just be mom and I. It’ll be good. You two can talk.”
I clear my throat and force a smile, even though he can’t see it. “I’d love to. I’m going to go home and shower, then I’ll be there.”
“Actually, can I come pick you up?” I smile at the thought of riding on the back of his bike again. After Ben’s little impromptu visit, a freeing ride with the wind in my hair might actually be nice.
“That sounds good. Can you pick me up in an hour?”
He chuckles. “I’ll give you thirty minutes.”
“Ugh. Fine.”
Tiny’s deep laugh is the last thing I hear when we hang up. Locking the office behind me, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t pay more attention than usual as I walk out to my car, the ominous feeling like someone’s watching me crawling through my veins.
When I get to my truck, I check around the whole vehicle, looking for any random notes or anything amiss before getting in. I’ve seen enough in this field to know I need to be on alert. All my senses are heightened as I jump into the driver’s seat and gingerly start my car.
Jesus, Kourtney. Snap the fuck out of it. It’s not like they planted a bomb in my car or something. I roll the window down for some much-needed fresh air on my short drive home. I actually drive past my normal entrance to the neighborhood and use the next side street to make the drive longer, using the time to think.