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I shook my head. “Never mind. We can talk about it later.” I kissed him gently. “I have a better idea of what we can do now.”
“Oh? Show me?”
I slid a hand up his thigh and leaned in for another kiss. “I think you get the gist.”
Bennett laughed. “I guess I do.”
Chapter Fifteen
Bennett
Acouple days later, before we took the field at kickball practice, Archer pulled me aside with a grimace on his face as he asked me to come look at something he had in his car. I followed him, no questions asked, until he ducked into the car and pulled out a copy of the newspaper.
“What’s this?”
“It’s today’sPort Grandlin Dispatch. There was a special insert in it about the Michaels Foundation’s annual charitable grant awards and the donors that make it happen.”
I scratched my neck and frowned. “Okay…”
“Well, there’s a photo of you in there. You know, because you were an award recipient.”
I nodded. “Right. They took a ton of pictures that night.”
“And that’s where you met Dex?”
I huffed out a breath in frustration. “Yes, Arch. Where are you going with this?”
He opened the paper and pulled out the insert before passing it to me. “The guy you brought to Jock Strap the other night—hisname is Dex, right?” When I nodded slowly, he continued. “Dex Thompson? Webber Holdings?”
“How do you—”
“Just look inside here.” He thrust the insert at me. On the front page there was a photo of the man who’d handed me the grant, Ross Timmer. I flipped through, scanning the pages until I landed on a photo of a smiling Dex, standing near the window in an office building. Beyond him was a spectacular view of the Grandlin River. The caption labeled him Dex Thompson, president and CEO of Webber Holdings. The headline below said, “Dex Thompson Makes it Happen.”
I skimmed the segment, which indicated Dex was not only the president and CEO of Webber Holdings but also his company was the primary donor to the Michaels Foundation. I looked at Archer, disbelieving.
“So, he owns the company. So what?” I heard my voice, high and tight, and could see he had more to say.
“Well… Look, I don’t want to make things weird or anything.”
“What is it, Arch?”
He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I did some searching about Webber Holdings. You had told us he was just an accountant or something, and I was curious about his company. It turns out…” He passed his phone to me, screen on.
Pulled up was a website—not the company’s website, but a news report on Webber Holdings. I read the first line out loud. “One of the most prestigious investment firms in the United States, Webber Holdings handles the investments for America’s most wealthy.” I met Archer’s gaze. “So what? His company works with rich people. Who cares?”
“Keep reading.”
I scrolled farther. “The president and CEO of Webber Holdings, Dex Thompson, is a far cry from past generations. With a personal net worth of over a billion—” I stopped readingand thrust Archer’s phone at him. “I don’t want to know.” A wave of nausea crashed over me as the implications stacked up in my mind. He’d lied to me. I’d spent all that time telling him how hard it was to grow up poor and he just nodded along, knowing that he had over a billion dollars?
Loud clapping pierced through my haze. “Let’s go, team. Time to practice. We need to defend our winning streak.” It was Jared, shouting from the dugout.
In a daze, I made my way to the dugout, where the rest of the team waited. “You okay, man?” Archer called, jogging to catch up with me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spring it on you like that. I didn’t know how else to tell you.”
“It’s okay,” I mumbled.
From somewhere nearby, I heard Ethan’s voice ask a question. “What’s up with him?”
Archer cleared his throat. “I think I should let him tell it.”
