CHAPTER 16 BEN
His car isn’t in the lot when I get to the gym. When I walk in, Kelly greets me with one of those flirtatious smiles women give me when they think they have a shot. “Good morning, Mr. Olson.”
She doesn't have a shot.
Nobody does because my heart is still with Kaylee. I can’t even fathom the thought of being with another woman right now.
My God…how I have changed.
“Is Craig in?” I ask, all business from the start so she knows this visit isn’t about chatting by the reception desk.
She shakes her head. “He should be back in twenty minutes or so.”
“Thanks,” I say, and I head toward the administrative offices to wait.
Craig’s office door is locked, but given that I am the owner of this place, I have a master key. I slide it in. It doesn't turn.
Why the fuck would he need new locks on his office door?
Why would he want to keep me out?
More red flags.
I head back out toward Kelly. “Did Craig leave a key to his office with you?”
She shakes her head as her brows draw together. “Do you need to get in there for something?”
I nod. “It's all right. I can just wait for him.”
But I'm not waiting for him. Instead, I go back to the office and I kick that mother fucking door down.
I walk in after the deed is done, the door hanging lopsided on its hinges, and I glance around the office.
I sit in the black leather executive chair behind the desk. The top of the desk is a damn disaster. I pick up a few of the papers and flip through them. It’s my gym, and this is my property even though I’m allowing an old buddy to run the place.
Everything on top of the desk is standard paperwork even though it’s a tornado of disorganization.
What the hell is he doing here? Maybe he needs a secretary, or maybe I need a new manager.
I find mostly membership applications that need to be filed, the majority from our newest senior members who prefer a good old pen and paper application versus our high-tech online ones. There's nothing here.
I open the pencil drawer. Just pens in there.
I open the top drawer on the right. Nothing there but some pads of paper with the Tight Fit logo on them.
The next drawer down doesn't have anything interesting, either, but the bottom drawer is locked.
Now why would Craig need a locked drawer?
I check the other side and find nothing there, either.
My guess is any incriminating evidence is either in the locked drawer or online.
At the back of the second drawer on the left, I find a pad of paper with some phone numbers written on it.
I type the first few numbers into a search on my phone and determine there's nothing interesting nor nefarious with them.
It’s then I realize there won't be anything incriminating in this office. He may be dumb enough to betray me, but he isn’t stupid enough to do it here. I’m going to have to dig deeper than looking through a few drawers to figure out what he’s up to.
And that's why I stick my feet up on his desk and fold my hands behind my head to wait.
When he appears in the doorway, his eyes survey the work I did on the door to gain entry.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Why did you change the lock on your office door?” I ask without a greeting.
“One of the assistant managers lost a master key,” he says without missing a beat.
“Interesting.” I hold up the key on my keyring. “So will this key work on, oh, say…the front entry doors?”
His eyes shift around a little as he looks for a lie.
Before he can answer, I continue with my grilling. “What are you doing, Craig? Are you working with her?”
His brows dip and he looks offended by my accusation. “Working with who?”
I lean forward on his desk. “Look, man, I've known you a lot of years. I know when you're not telling the whole truth. If it looks like shit and smells like shit, it’s probably shit.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Where is the towel?”
His eyes dart to his desk. He shifts them away quickly, but I didn’t miss it.
He wouldn’t be stupid enough to hide the towel in there…would he?
“What’s in the bottom drawer?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nothing.”
“Show me.”
He sighs. “Fine. It’s something.”
“What is it?”
He looks a little nervous, and then he walks over and unlocks it.
I can’t help a laugh when I see what he’s got in there. “Really, man? Here at work?” I pull out a strip of condoms and eye a rather large dildo.
He shrugs. “Sometimes Kelly and I lock the door and, well, you know,” he mumbles.
Yeah, I know.
But still. This is my gym.
“You been fucking anyone else on my office equipment?” I ask.
He looks at me a little guiltily, which gives him away.
I sigh. “I don’t need to know who, but obviously you’re fired. I can’t have this shit going on behind my back when I’m working so goddamn hard to build an empire that I can fall back on when my playing days are over.”
“Dude, you’d do it,” he whines.
He’s not wrong, but he’s also not the owner. And just because there wasn’t anything incriminating in that drawer doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist somewhere outside of this office. My hackles rise and I’m on high alert.
“Doesn’t matter if I would or wouldn’t. You signed a contract when I hired you on as my manager, and fucking the employees on top of the desk I paid for expressly breaks that contract.”
“Don’t do this, man. Don’t ruin a friendship of two decades because of one mistake,” he begs.
“I get the feeling there’s been more than one mistake,” I say. “I just don’t have the evidence to prove it yet.”
He doesn’t say anything, and the fact that he isn’t standing there denying it tells me I’m right.
“What else have you done?” I ask quietly. “Tatum?”
He clenches his jaw, but I don’t miss the quick dart of his eyes around the room. “I haven’t done anything.”
“Okay.” I unplug his laptop and take it with me. “Then you won’t mind if I have someone take a sweep at this thing.”
His eyes widen, and I know I’ve caught onto something here.
“Excuse me,” I say. “While I’m gone, you can go ahead and clean out your shit. And don’t forget to leave your key to my house, too.” I head to the empty office two doors down with the laptop with him sputtering some nonsense behind me.
I don’t have time for whatever petty shit he wants to say to me. I need to figure out what the fuck he’s been doing and then get back to Vegas. Once I get Tatum off my ass, then I can go back to Kay—
I interrupt my own train of thought as a tiny voice cuts into my thoughts. She’s better off without you.
Goddammit. I know I’m right.
I want her to move on from me, to fill in that picture she always dreamed of just the way she dreamed it could be.
I just miss her. My life feels completely off balance without her in it.
I’ll get over it. I’ll move forward.
It just might take a little time.