I stared at him in disbelief. My jaw might have even come unhinged. I couldn’t really feel my face to know.
He wanted the story?
He wanted the story!
My fingers dug into the edge of the table as I held on for dear life. “You’re not funny.” That was as civil as I could be, and I fully intended on staying that way. Even if Ben Wells was a degenerate, no-good windbag, I would rise above.
His brow dropped. “I’ve kinda always thought I was, but…” He scrubbed the scruff on his jaw. “Let’s back up a step. I think I’mmissing something. You seem as angry at me as Kylie was. Did I do something wrong, Mazzy? If so, tell me what it was. I’ll fix it.”
“Thisreallyisn’t funny.”
Rising above went out the window. How could he sit there and pretend he didn’t know exactly why I was angry at him? There was no way I could continue this. Not without shoving that stupid hot dog down his throat and watching him choke on it.
Kylie would approve.
Katty wouldn’t like having to visit me behind bars.
“I’m so damn lost,” he uttered, an expression of genuine befuddlement on his face. Which was rich. Incredibly rich. His confusion fueled my fury.
I pushed back from the table, tossing my wadded-up napkin down. “I can’t do this, Ben. If you would like to continue some type of conversation, let’s go through lawyers. I’ll text you my lawyer’s phone number when I get back to work.”
Spinning on my heel, I rushed for the door, my mind already on what I’d say to my mentor, Miranda. Hopefully, she’d be willing to take me on, since technically I didn’t have a lawyer. And I imagined a man like Ben had a whole harem.
Unfortunately, I got as far as the door before Ben caught me, blocking my escape with his oversized body. He took me by the shoulders, holding me in place, and tried to capture my gaze.
“Lawyers? Mazzy, slow down and tell me what’s going on. I’m definitely missing something, and I hate that you’re mad at me.” He nudged my chin with his thumb, tipping my head back. “Please explain. I want to understand.”
My jaw rigid, I uttered, “Let go of me right now.”
He complied immediately, his hands falling to his sides, but made no effort to move out of my way. “Talk to me,” he pleaded.
“Before you called me, I thought we’d both said all we needed to the day I came here. I’d written you out of my life and had gotten on with it. If you want to be part of her life, I’m willing tohear you out, just don’t”—I waved my hands frantically around and in front of him—“put on this innocent act. We were both there, and I willneverforget the things you said to me. We won’t be friends, Ben, and I will protect my daughter with everything I have—”
“You came here?”
“Ben…” I groaned in frustration. Why did it seem like we were having two separate conversations? “You know I did. I came to tell you about her, and you sent me away.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and rammed the heel of his hand into his forehead. “I feel like I’m having one of those dreams where I keep asking questions and only get half answers.”
“Then let’s end it now. Like I said, I’ll text you when I get back to the office.”
“No.” His eyes flew open. “No, I need you to explain like I’m a complete stranger, because the last time I saw you was at the airport in LA.”
I sighed. “That isn’t true.”
“It is.”
He sounded so adamant; if he hadn’t scarred me so deeply with his rejection, I would’ve believed him.
“I came here, Ben. You know I did.”
“When?”
“Six months after LA, I found you…”
His forehead crinkled, and something like disbelief sent his head knocking against the door behind him.
“Did you say you have a daughter?”
