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“Bex–”
“I’m doing you a favor,” I allow. “But nothing said we had to pretend to be friends.”
Detrick clears his throat. “Do you two know each other or need the room?”
“Hardly,” I scoff at the same time Thorin announces in his stupidly loud voice for all to hear, “I’m her ex-husband.”
Several people in the bullpen stop what they’re doing to glance in our direction.
Detrick immediately steps out of my office, gripping the door handle tightly. “I think I’ll let you two have a moment to collect yourselves.” He shuts the door, locking me in with the poisonous snake.
“Magic vagina?” Thorin asks.
A flush works its way up my neck to my cheeks. “Detrick thought you were someone I slept with.”
“Well we have done that a time or two.”
I look down at the paperweight on my desk that looks like a perfect metal book. It’s probably heavy enough to inflict damage if I throw it at his face. Breathing deeply to avoid catching an assault charge, I ask, “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see if I could ask you some questions about the types of charities you’re involved with so I would be able to do research on what I can do to help when we go,” Thorin answers carefully. “Though I’m a bit more curious about this whole magical vagina thing.”
Defensively, I ask, “Do your friends know you’re not as laid back as you seem?”
“Oh, I see. Touchy subject.” Thorin shoves his hands into his slacks and walks around my office. “Recent heartbreak?”
“Not any of your business.” I point towards the chair across from my desk. “Sit there while I answer my messages and then I’ll show you my dossier for the charities I work with that you can choose from. This will go by easier if you have an actual interest in the charity itself.” Even though I gave King a printed list of the charities, he’s probably still combing through them for acceptability before handing over his condensed list to Thorin.
“I’m afraid I don’t have a lot of time to do charity work, so I’m not sure what my interests are. Usually I donate a check but I have a feeling you’re a bit more hands on than that.”
Considering I couldn’t write a check big enough to be beneficial to any charity, everything I do is hands on. “It feels good to give back to the community.”
“In manual labor?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, Thorin, in manual labor. I work with removing graffiti, walking shelter animals, tutoring children in underprivileged communities, collecting donations, putting lunches together for students whose parents can’t afford meals, and occasionally trying my hand at a bake sale. There’s lots of ways people can give back, putting in hours of hard work is mine.”
He leans forward in his seat, disgesting my personal favorite charities I listed off. “That’s a large variety of options.”
“If I can give back, why wouldn’t I?” I shrug as I pull up my messages and start going through them, sending the important ones to Detrick to create a list of appointments for me. “I like helping people.”
“A check still helps.”
“Yes,” I answer slowly, “but it doesn’t magically create the benefits for people utilizing that check. Someone has to cash it, generate supplies, and make sure they can be given to the community. There’s more to charities than writing a check.”
His voice pulls at me, forcing my eyes away from the screen to look at him. “Thank you for doing this.”
It’s such an odd thing to say. Can you really be grateful to someone you’re blackmailing? “What happened? King said your reputation is trashed, but I don’t keep up with the drama tabloid’s provide.” All I know is the very basics of him being drugged and something about photos that make him look bad.
Thorin’s entire body seems to shut down. His eyes darken to an almost black shade, his demeanor becoming less easy going and more rigid. He looks like a different person than the one sitting there moments ago. “This stays between us, okay?”
“I signed the NDA.”
“Fuck the NDA, I’m telling you something I want to remain private because you’ve always been a trustworthy person even without a contract,” Thorin snaps.
My brows draw together at his tone. Thorin very rarely gets aggravated by people. Then again, the Thorin I know may not be the same Thorin sitting here today. Eight years is a long time for people to change who they are. “Whatever you say will stay between us.”
“Someone drugged me, which I’m sure you already know. King noticed I disappeared at my birthday party and came looking for me. I was in one of the guest bedrooms, unconscious with my clothes torn, two prostitutes doing cocaine at the end of the bed. I don’t know who they were, but I do know I didn’t invite them. I don’t even know how I got in the room because the last thing I remember was grabbing water and heading towards the bathroom. When King tried to wake me up and realized my heart was barely working, he shut the party down and got me out of there. The ER said I was spiked with GHB. They did a rape exam that was inconclusive. But I don’t know who drugged me or what happened. We got the police involved but their investigation was inconclusive as well. Then the pictures appeared, someone took them of the girls laying on me while I was unconscious and sold them to the media.”
Icy anger floods my system. That’s beyond horrific. How dare someone do this to another human. Thorin, while not my definition of a nice guy, is pretty decent to everyone around him. He rarely does something impulsive, but even I know he doesn’t do drugs.
