CHAPTER 20 BEN
“Can you plan a bash for me?” Tristan asks the next night. We’re out drinking again, this time at a club off-Strip.
I don’t know why I bothered.
I came here with the same group as last night plus Tristan tonight, and while the vibe is different on a Sunday night, it’s still Vegas, and there’s still always a party with drunk women clamoring for their shot at a pro athlete happening somewhere.
Actually, I do know why I bothered tonight in particular.
I’m here to get shitfaced.
My brows dip. “For what?”
“My divorce. Once it’s final, I’ll be ready to party like a fucking rock star.”
I chug down the rest of my beer before I answer. “I’m not exactly in the partying mood given everything that’s happened over the last couple weeks.”
“But you throw the most epic parties of anyone I know,” he says, mirroring me by chugging down the rest of his beer after his response.
He deserves a party after the shitty couple years he’s had.
First he married the devil, then he got hurt on the field.
She didn’t even bother visiting him in the hospital, but she held onto their marriage so she could appear on some reality show.
All that fell through when she was caught doing some illegal things, and then she tried even harder to hang onto him.
After all that, the divorce still isn’t final.
I don’t blame him for wanting a party. “I can’t argue that. What were you thinking?”
“I heard your pool party at Caesars was lit as fuck.” He shrugs. “Maybe something like that?”
“I’ve got a few people who can help. I’ll pass your number along.
” As I finish speaking the words, a few women approach the two of us.
Cory and Jaxon are already off dancing with some chicks, and a couple other guys came with us tonight, too.
So far, Eric has been smart enough to stay away, but I’m ready to hunt that fucker down and kick his ass.
I won’t.
I’m a professional.
But I will beat his ass on the field and prove to everybody why I’m starting this season and he’s not.
The woman who approaches Tristan whispers something in his ear then grabs his hand.
“You’re the best, Eighty-Eight,” he says, pointing at me with a laugh as he’s dragged away.
“Want to dance?” the woman who came up to me asks.
I don’t, and I feel like a royal asshole telling her that. “I’m sorry, babe. I’m just here to drink with my buddies tonight.”
The image I first saw earlier today flashes through my mind again.
“I saw that Billy Peters thing about the girl you were with. Is it all true?” she asks. She bats her heavily made up blue eyes at me.
The girl I was with.
The girl who might already have moved on.
My heart twists.
Fuck.
I knew it would hurt, but I didn’t think it would happen so fast.
And with a goddamn baseball player?
“I don’t watch that shit,” I say.
“He said she left you at the altar.” She’s yelling so I can hear her over the music, and her words are grating on my already fragile heart.
“Something like that,” I mutter. It’s not the exact truth, but maybe it’ll be easier on her if that’s the story we stick to.
“I can help you move on.” She reaches over and gets within centimeters of my dick when I bat her hand away.
“Thanks, but no thanks.” I say the words gently, but let’s be honest. The chick is assaulting me right now.
She looks supremely offended, but it is what it is. People handle rejection in different ways, and I just hope she’s not like Tatum and Kitty.
And speaking of Kitty, I need to call her and check in on the whole towel situation. When did my life become such a stupid mess?
I’m not sure, but it got even worse today when I saw the latest celebrity gossip.
Cooper Noah and Kaylee Dalton were spotted in San Diego laughing together as they entered some restaurant near Gaslamp Quarter, the downtown neighborhood known for its nightlife.
She’s moving on. She’s laughing with a baseball player. She never wanted to be with a football player, so maybe this is her sweet revenge.
And that hurts more than it should.
I want her to be happy…but I want her to be happy with me.
It’s Sunday night—Kitty’s night off. This might be my only shot to talk to her.
I extract myself from the chick who won’t let it go and head outside.
I walk down the sidewalk away from the line of people waiting to get in, ducking my head in the shadows before anyone has the chance to recognize me.
I move toward the side of the building and down across the parking lot.
I walk to the far end along some bushes.
There are people around, but it’s private over here.
I click the contact even though I’m sure Ellie would advise me against it. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.
After the third ring, I get the sinking feeling she isn’t going to answer. But on the fifth ring, she does. “Hi,” she answers, and her tone even in that single word is cautious.
I clear my throat. I’ve got more than a single word here, and none of them are cautious. It just feels like I’ve already lost everything there is to lose. “Can we talk?” I ask.
“Go for it.”
I meant in person, but whatever. A man has to grab whatever chance he’s given. “Why are you working so fucking hard to ruin my life?”
“It wasn’t just about you, Ben,” she says. “I mean, sure, I wanted your attention. It wasn’t the right way to do it, but it wasn’t as much about you as it was about the money.” Her voice is a little shaky.
“I have more money than they do. You could’ve been honest with me instead of trying to ruin my life.”
“You rejected me. Made me feel like I didn’t have a shot, so why would I have done that? Eric had some shit on me, and my kid needs to eat, you know? And then your friends from Montana—”
“They are not my friends.” I cut her off as I ignore the part about Eric having something on her and why she needs money for now.
“Right. Well, they made an offer.”
“Did you take it?” I ask carefully.
She sighs. “I told them I didn’t want to hurt you any more than I already had, but then they upped the ante. I said I’d think about it. A package came with a little bit of cash and the promise for more along with some evidence I could use against you.”
“Fuck them.” Goddammit. It’s my money they’re paying her.
It may as well come from me instead of being stolen from my company.
“Come on, Kit. We had some good times. We just weren’t right for each other, but it’s in the past. Let me help you.
Don’t do this to me.” I hear the pleading in my own voice, and it’s desperation that has driven me here. “I’ve already lost everything.”
“What does that mean?”
“Between you killing my reputation and my ex lying to the media then blackmailing me…let’s just say I’m single again.” I pace around the hedges.
“Oh,” she says. “She dumped you because of all that?”
“No. I ended it to protect her from all this shit. So why do you need money?” I abruptly change the subject because my chest feels heavy and I can’t talk to Kitty of all people about this.
“Because people do dumb things when they’re desperate and I need to get out of Honeys.
My kid is starting kindergarten next year and I can’t exactly show up to the parent club meetings in my eight-inch stiletto boots and smile at whatever asshole dad was pawing at me the night before.
It’s been good money, and they have treated me well, but I can’t stay there. I need to be Amanda, not Kitty.”
“And you thought accusing me of sexual assault would help get you there?” I ask. Anger boils my blood even though I’m starting to…dare I say it…feel sorry for her. She’s right about people doing dumb things when they’re desperate. I’ve been there, and I have regrets, too.
God, sometimes I hate that little streak of empathy I got from my father.
“No,” she says quietly. “But I couldn’t turn down what Eric was offering me.”
“What does he have on you?” I ask.
“None of your business.”
“Kit—Amanda, I’m just trying to help you. And I can’t do that if you’re not honest with me.”
“Let me just think about it, okay?”
“I need an assistant,” I blurt. Oh fuck.
Fuck. Why did I say that? I don’t need an assistant, and even if I did, it certainly wouldn’t be her.
I try to back out of it, try to come up with some other job she could do, but the only place I could have her work is Tight Fit and it’s not like she’s going to ship off to Montana.
“You…wait, are you offering me a job?” she asks, her voice full of confusion. Let’s be honest, I’m a little confused right now, too. Thanks, beer.
“I’m offering you an out.” I don’t know how these things work. Can she just go from being a stripper and hop right into the corporate world? Doubtful, but she does have a lot of contacts and she does know a lot of shit about a lot of local people.
Wait a second.
Another thought occurs to me. “I have another potential job offer for you, but I’d need to talk to somebody first.”
“I won’t do anything with that towel,” she says softly. “I was never going to even before you called.”
“What about the money?” I ask.
“I’ve hurt you enough, and you’re still calling me today willing to help me even after I said those horrible things about you.
I’m so sorry. You deserve better. You deserve to be happy.
You deserve to be in a relationship with that girl you love, and you shouldn’t feel like you have to end it because bad people exist. Go get your girl, Ben. ”
I know she’s right.
But I think I might be too late.