of her statements and trust me, bro—you don’t want to know.”
“But I do! Why haven’t I seen these papers yet?”
“Would you trust me, please? I’m handling this … You don’t need any more of the stress.”
“Dude, we need to talk about this.” Ben ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. “I’m tired of the secrets and the sheltering. I feel like you’re pulling me through a minefield with my eyes closed.”
“All right, Ben, you win. I’ll show you everything,” Tommy conceded. “Except my source. I can’t risk Elena finding out.”
“Fine, that’s a deal,” Ben agreed. “But I’ll tell you what, if you can get me out of this with little to no collateral damage, I’ll make it worth your while.”
Tommy laughed. “Don’t paint yourself into any corners, buddy. But you know I’ve got your back.”
“All right, I’ve got a Scotch to nurse.” Ben sighed. “Maybe I’ll drink myself stupid and stumble back to my place. Lord knows I’m close enough to make it.”
“Yep, that’s healthy. Just be careful, all right? Try to avoid doing anything stupid.”
“I make no promises.”
As Ben wrapped up the call, he spotted something shiny out of the corner of his eye. The shiny something happened to be a silver bangle, but it was the arm to which it was attached that made his heart skip a beat.
Violet?
He set his phone down without looking, dangerously close to dropping it in his glass. What was Violet doing in his neighborhood? It occurred to him that he had no idea where she lived.
Her eyes darted nervously around the restaurant, and his stomach churned as he dropped his head to avoid being seen.
Maybe she’s meeting someone
,
but here?
Mercifully, the waitress approached as he struggled to get his thoughts together, batting her eyes and smiling.
“Can I get you another Scotch, sir?”
He twisted in his chair so that the waitress was directly in front of him. “Sure. Why don’t you tell me what you recommend?”
Ben hardly heard her launch into details about their top-shelf product. He smiled up at her and nodded, all the while peeking around the waitress to glance at Violet, who seemed thoroughly engrossed in the menu her server had placed at her table.
“Sir?”
Whoops.
He hadn’t heard her stop talking.
“You know what, I think I’ll just stick to what I’ve got here,” he replied, feeling guilty. “But thanks.”
He eyed Violet from across the restaurant, carefully keeping his head tilted toward his glass. He noticed she was tense and obviously nervous—her hands, knotted together, practically tapped out a rhythm on the table as she sat with her eyes closed and took deep breaths. A small twinge of jealousy that he refused to acknowledge set up a knot in the pit of his stomach.
Hot date, huh?
He tossed back the last sip of his second Scotch just as the waitress served up his third, whisking the other glass away without so much as a word. Violet’s server approached her table with a smile but was turned away with a nervous shake of the head as Violet buried her face in her menu.
He had gone through his third drink and was just being brought another when Violet’s demeanor finally changed. She repeatedly checked her phone, alternatively staring out the window, fiddling with her silverware, and looking through her menu. Then, with a final check of the phone, her shoulders slumped. Ben grabbed his own and looked at it; an hour had gone by. And he’d been watching her like a stalker for exactly that long. With a frown, he realized that Violet had been stood up. His brow furrowed as he watched sympathetically—she stared hard at the tablecloth in front of her, and Ben could tell that she was willing herself not to cry. And before he could stop himself, he was out of his chair and fast approaching her table.
“Violet?”
She looked up with a startled expression. “Ben? What are you … ?”
“I live in the neighborhood,” he said casually. “Just stopping
“But I do! Why haven’t I seen these papers yet?”
“Would you trust me, please? I’m handling this … You don’t need any more of the stress.”
“Dude, we need to talk about this.” Ben ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. “I’m tired of the secrets and the sheltering. I feel like you’re pulling me through a minefield with my eyes closed.”
“All right, Ben, you win. I’ll show you everything,” Tommy conceded. “Except my source. I can’t risk Elena finding out.”
“Fine, that’s a deal,” Ben agreed. “But I’ll tell you what, if you can get me out of this with little to no collateral damage, I’ll make it worth your while.”
Tommy laughed. “Don’t paint yourself into any corners, buddy. But you know I’ve got your back.”
“All right, I’ve got a Scotch to nurse.” Ben sighed. “Maybe I’ll drink myself stupid and stumble back to my place. Lord knows I’m close enough to make it.”
“Yep, that’s healthy. Just be careful, all right? Try to avoid doing anything stupid.”
“I make no promises.”
As Ben wrapped up the call, he spotted something shiny out of the corner of his eye. The shiny something happened to be a silver bangle, but it was the arm to which it was attached that made his heart skip a beat.
Violet?
He set his phone down without looking, dangerously close to dropping it in his glass. What was Violet doing in his neighborhood? It occurred to him that he had no idea where she lived.
Her eyes darted nervously around the restaurant, and his stomach churned as he dropped his head to avoid being seen.
Maybe she’s meeting someone
,
but here?
Mercifully, the waitress approached as he struggled to get his thoughts together, batting her eyes and smiling.
“Can I get you another Scotch, sir?”
He twisted in his chair so that the waitress was directly in front of him. “Sure. Why don’t you tell me what you recommend?”
Ben hardly heard her launch into details about their top-shelf product. He smiled up at her and nodded, all the while peeking around the waitress to glance at Violet, who seemed thoroughly engrossed in the menu her server had placed at her table.
“Sir?”
Whoops.
He hadn’t heard her stop talking.
“You know what, I think I’ll just stick to what I’ve got here,” he replied, feeling guilty. “But thanks.”
He eyed Violet from across the restaurant, carefully keeping his head tilted toward his glass. He noticed she was tense and obviously nervous—her hands, knotted together, practically tapped out a rhythm on the table as she sat with her eyes closed and took deep breaths. A small twinge of jealousy that he refused to acknowledge set up a knot in the pit of his stomach.
Hot date, huh?
He tossed back the last sip of his second Scotch just as the waitress served up his third, whisking the other glass away without so much as a word. Violet’s server approached her table with a smile but was turned away with a nervous shake of the head as Violet buried her face in her menu.
He had gone through his third drink and was just being brought another when Violet’s demeanor finally changed. She repeatedly checked her phone, alternatively staring out the window, fiddling with her silverware, and looking through her menu. Then, with a final check of the phone, her shoulders slumped. Ben grabbed his own and looked at it; an hour had gone by. And he’d been watching her like a stalker for exactly that long. With a frown, he realized that Violet had been stood up. His brow furrowed as he watched sympathetically—she stared hard at the tablecloth in front of her, and Ben could tell that she was willing herself not to cry. And before he could stop himself, he was out of his chair and fast approaching her table.
“Violet?”
She looked up with a startled expression. “Ben? What are you … ?”
“I live in the neighborhood,” he said casually. “Just stopping
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