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Chapter Eighteen
Dex
Bennett had run off and left me behind, standing alone in my driveway, and then Jude had hung up on me. I’d gone straight to bed, hoping to put the miserable day behind me. The next morning, my first thought was of how alone I was. Truly, I’d crafted a life where the closest thing I had to friends were my employees. That miscalculation was glaringly obvious the next morning, as I woke to sunshine streaming in my bedroom window through a gap in the curtains. I tossed the covers aside and stalked over to the window, yanked the curtains fully closed, and flopped back into bed.
I put an away message on my business email and spent the morning in bed feeling sorry for myself. I wanted nothing more than to reach out to Bennett and beg his forgiveness, but I knew he needed space, especially if something had happened to his mom. I didn’t want to crowd him or somehow make things worse. I was tempted to reach out to the hospital in town to check on his mother, but I quickly decided that would fall into the category of making things worse. Instead, I scrolledmindlessly through content on my phone, skimming over news articles which would normally captivate me, swiping through social media without interest, and not even deriving pleasure out of the daily crossword puzzle I typically enjoyed.
Around lunchtime, my phone buzzed with an incoming notification, a text message. It was Bennett, and my stomach fluttered as nervousness hit me in a heavy wave.
Bennett: We need to talk. Can I see you?
I didn’t hesitate to send my response.
Dex: When and where?
Bennett: I’ll come to your house again if that’s okay. Would an hour from now be okay?
Dex: I’ll see you then.
I raced out of bed, begging whatever deity might be listening to me that Bennett had good news, had forgiven me, and wanted to stay together. My chest ached with hope. I hopped in the shower and washed up in a hurry, mind racing over what I wanted to say when he arrived. Forcing myself to consider that he might be coming to end things and preparing myself for that possibility, I imagined each scenario and how it would play out, practicing what I would say.
After I finished showering and dressing, I went to the living room and paced while I waited. It felt like an eternity, but eventually Bennett’s car pulled into the driveway. I stopped my pacing and went to the door to greet him.
He approached the house slowly, the same way he had the previous night. My heart thudded, picking up speed in my chest, and a sensation of nausea swept over me. I still held out hope, but not much.
Bennett looked at me, biting his lower lip, and I stepped back to make room for him to enter. “Will you come in?”
“Thank you.” He nodded and made his way into the house, brushing past me. The scent of his soap caught my nose as he passed, and I inhaled deeply, my chest tightening with regret.
“Make yourself comfortable,” I murmured, and watched as he took a seat in the same place he’d sat the night before. I sat in the chair again, inhaled slowly, and waited.
When he looked at me again, his eyes were shining and damp. “I just came from the hospital. Mom’s going to be okay. She fell and broke her ankle. They did surgery on her last night, and she should recover pretty well, considering what she’s going through. But… we had a long talk, and we’ve decided we’re not keeping the rest of the grant money.”
Ice ran through my veins as he spoke, my stomach churning. “Bennett, I’m so sorry I hid things from you. Please don’t—”
He held up a hand, and I stopped talking. “It’s okay. I understand why you did it. That’s not why we’re doing this. Mom’s been accepted into a drug trial up in DC and they’re going to cover related tests and things, too. We’ll keep whatever we need to cover travel and housing, but Mom wants to donate the rest to build a scholarship program for underprivileged kids. You know, so they can go to college or trade school or whatever. The way I couldn’t.”
As he finished explaining, I sat up straighter and nodded. “I suspect Webber Holdings would like to help with that venture.”
His eyes widened. “Really?”
“Of course. What’s important to you is important to me. I want to help. We’ll talk about the details later, but of course Webber will help. But, you should also tell the foundation. They will have advice on how to handle the financial part of this. I really don’t have much to do with the foundation at all. I just give them money.”
“The article in the paper said—”
“I know. I read the article. The reporter blew things way out of proportion, if you ask me.”
“So, you’renotworth…” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
I cleared my throat. “That much is true. The article may have made it sound like Webber Holdings pulls all the strings for the Michaels Foundation, but honestly, we don’t. Ross is an old friend of mine I appointed as the chairperson of the foundation after my mom died.”
“Can I ask about your company and stuff?”
I spread my hands wide in invitation. “Ask away.”
“So, you handle investments for rich people?”
I nodded. “We do. But we give a lot of our profits away.”
