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“Well…you kind of took his job.”
“You’re shitting me. He…he was my mentor.”
“Yeah, well…” I shrug.
“What happened to me? Liv, what kind of asshole have I become?”
I laugh out loud at his apprehensive tone. “What do you mean become? You were an asshole two years ago, so I don’t know why you’re confused.” He’s silent and I chance a glance at him and he’s staring out the window. “I’m kidding…Jeff got promoted.” I give him a half smile when he turns back towards me and I can see the relief in his eyes. “He works out of the LA office now,” I tell him and he nods before letting out a breath.
“You could have led with that.”
“Sorry, but it was too easy.” I giggle.
“Thank you for using this situation against me,” he grumbles. “Who’s the asshole now?”
I bite my lip at his comment. It was going to be a long three weeks if this is how things were going to be. We move through the streets towards my apartment in SoHo and within forty minutes I’m pulling into the garage at the base of the building. I unbuckle my seatbelt and stare straight ahead as I prepare myself for what I’ve been practicing in my head for the last twenty minutes. “I’m sorry,” I breathe out, “for being insensitive.” I look over at him and he gives me a smile.
“I know that I can be a bit of an asshole. I just…I’ve never been that way with you. You’ve always seemed to be the one exception to that.” He unbuckles his seatbelt and makes a move to get out before he stops and looks at me. “You…and Wren…and my mother, you can all tell me what I did, but I still can’t wrap my brain around the fact that it happened. That I hurt you…in that way. That being said, I know you have a very different opinion of me than I remember having of you, so it’s just going to take some getting used to…that you don’t love me anymore.” He gives me a sad smile and then he’s gone.
I open my mouth to refute his statement when I remember that it’s easier for all parties if he just thinks I don’t love him.
So, what if I do love him?
Does that change anything?
I hop out and make my way around the car where I see him pulling the bags from the car. I pull them from him. “I got it.”
“You sure?” He looks down at me and I’m instantly reminded of the Bennett that rarely let me lift a finger.
“You just worry about keeping yourself upright,” I tell him.
Caroline had packed a bag of clothes and brought it over last night as well, which thankfully didn’t turn into a whole big thing when she dropped them off. Thank God for “a six o’clock yogalates class I can NOT be late for.”
We move through the lobby and I see our front desk concierge’s face light up when he sees Bennett. “Mr. Clarke!”
I try to hide the irritation from my face as he makes his way over, even though he’s one of the kindest men I know. Mr. Kline is old enough to be my grandfather but acts like he’s my age or younger and used to tease Bennett endlessly that one day he was going to whisk me away. When Bennett’s father passed, he attended the funeral and sent one of the most breathtaking arrangements I’d ever seen. He also took him and got him ridiculously drunk because “it didn’t seem anyone else in his family was too concerned.” He’d sent me flowers the day Bennett officially moved out and took me to get drunk the following day.
Needless to say, Bennett and I are fans of Mr. Kline.
“It’s so nice to see you two together again.” Despite his words, I see the look he gives Bennett before turning his warm gaze to me. “Hi dear, you had a…umm…visitor, while you were gone.” He’s less than impressed with David Jacobs and has felt the need to let me know, constantly. He gives me a pointed look before shifting his gaze to Bennett.
I clear my throat and catch a glimpse at Bennett who looks as if he’s ready to snap over my visitor. “I see…well, thank you for letting me know,” I say nervously. I don’t know why I’m nervous. I haven’t done anything wrong. Well, nothing more wrong than Bennett!
He nods before turning back to Bennett. “Don’t fuck it up this time, Clarke,” he says looking at him over his round frames.
I roll my eyes. “Oh, for Heaven’s sake,” I growl as I stomp past them to the elevator. “Come on, Bennett!” I say over my shoulder without another glance at them. I hear the sounds of him behind me and when he enters the elevator, I let out a breath.
“He knows?”
“Yes, you had quite a habit of showing up here drunk after you moved out. If it weren’t for Mr. Kline, you’d probably be in jail for public intoxication.”
He nods and leans his head back against the elevator. “He hasn’t aged a day,” he says, ignoring my comment.
“He was worried about you.” I don’t know why I tell him that. Maybe because I wanted him to know someone cared. That a lot of people cared. That I’d been getting phone calls and emails from countless people from his job wondering how he is. What they could do. If we needed anything.
“You told him?”
“He was working when I got Wren’s call. I wasn’t…in the best shape when I left.” I recall, how he’d offered to drive me before eventually convincing me that I was in no condition to drive and I needed to take an Uber.
