Frayed (Connections #4)

Frayed (Connections #4) Page 35
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Frayed (Connections #4) Page 35

Her eyes meet mine. “Jagger got some disturbing news earlier this week. His father has colon cancer. He’s there now with him.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s stage four and it’s unlikely he’ll live much longer.”

I push back in my chair. “I’m really sorry. Let him know I’m here if he needs someone to talk to and let me know if there is anything I can do.”

She leans forward. “I’ve decided to go to New York City to be with him. Jagger’s mother, Celeste, is already there, but I feel I should go too.”

“How does that impact Jagger’s movie role?”

“He’s dropped out. The announcement will be made later today.”

“And you? What are your plans?”

“The December issue is ready for press. And I can work on January’s from New York. My assistant is back from maternity leave and between her and my intern, who I’d like to hire full-time, I know I can do it.”

I rub my hands together. “We could bring in someone temporarily to lessen your workload.”

“No! Ben, please. This is my magazine. Let me try,” she pleads, and a few tears prick her eyes.

I stand up and round the desk. “Hey. Of course. I just wanted to lessen your stress. I know how important Sound Music is to you. I’ll do whatever you think is best.”

She glances up at me. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

I lean back against the desk. “When are you planning on leaving?”

“Later tonight.” She grimaces. “I’m so sorry. I only just decided to go this morning when I got off the phone with him. I’ll e-mail you all my information. And I’ll be back for Xander and Ivy’s wedding.”

My eyes flash to hers. “They set a date?”

She nods. “New Year’s Eve.”

“Oh, that’s quick,” is all I can say as my mind wanders back to S’belle.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Anything else? I was just headed to the gym.”

“No. Thanks again, Ben.”

I nod. “No need to thank me,” I say to her as I usher her to the door and head to the locker room. I need to clear my head.

• • •

I’m sweating and biting back grunts as I run like hell, trying to escape my own thoughts. The treadmill beeps three point five miles in twenty-four minutes, my fastest time in years.

“Fuck, mate, are you running from the devil?” Kale asks from beside me, still hammering out his time.

Lifting my shirt, I pat my face. “Some days it feels that way.”

“You seem preoccupied this week. You got something going on?”

I gulp my water and look at him. We’re buddies but not in the same way I am with Beck. “Same shit, different day.”

“That girl whose arse you’ve been chasing got you in a snit?”

“We aren’t seeing each other anymore.”

He slowed his pace. “It’s about bloody time. Did you find a new piece yet?”

I shake my head. “We aren’t all dirty dogs like you. Some of us do have to work.”

“Ah . . . don’t forget who outchased whom when I met you. And I work, just not night and day like you.”

I blanch at the memory of a time when all I cared about was forgetting. Then I force myself to grin at him. “I know you do. Just busting your ass.”

“Are you decent?” Aerie calls out to us.

“It’s a gym, sweetie, not the locker room.” Kale laughs, stepping off the treadmill.

She comes in and shoots him a look. “I’m not your sweetie.”

He grins at her. “But I bet you wish you were.”

She puts her finger in her mouth, pretending to gag. “Not in this lifetime or any other.”

I make a T with my hands. “Kale, cut the shit. You know she has a guy. And, Aerie, he’s just trying to rile you and you let him every time.”

She glares at him.

“Did you need something?” I ask her.

“Yes, I wanted to tell you that I just found out that Kaye left her job at the radio station and maybe we should see if she could help us out temporarily.”

“Kaye?” Kale wiggles his eyebrows.

Aerie rolls her eyes. “Kaye Hudson, or Kimberly as I know her, worked for Sound Music magazine when the former owner, Damon Wolf, wanted to expand into entertainment. She left before the first issue was published, though.”

“That sucks,” Kale remarks.

I shoot him a quizzical look. He never gets emotional about things that don’t impact him.

“All that work never to see your first issue go to press. That would suck.”

“Wow, so you do have a heart,” Aerie says.

“I’m not the f**king Tin Man.”

“Language, Kale, language,” Aerie says, exasperated.

His lips twitch. “I bet you let that guy of yours talk dirty to you.”

She ignores him. “Ben, should I call her?”

“She won’t take the job.”

“Oh, I think she might. I found out after she left she had been seeing Damon and things ended badly. So with him gone, I don’t see a problem.”

I take a deep breath, disgusted by that news. Damon is the biggest ass. I wonder if that’s who she was crying over when we hooked up. “I thought you said you could handle it.”

“I can. I’m just worried about you. . . . What if you need something sooner than I can respond?”

“Let’s see how it goes. After the New Year we can reassess and go from there.”

“But she might have a job by then,” Aerie says.

I rock back on my heels. “Aerie, she and I had a thing while I was in New York City, and we also . . . reconnected one night and things ended badly.”

“Oh, I didn’t know.” Aerie blushes.

“Is this chick that you f**ked hot?” Kale asks.

With a disgusted look on her face, Aerie turns and slams the door. “Dahlia, hey, girl. You’re early,” she says just outside the door.

Kale’s gaze darts to me. “Dahlia?” he mouths. “Your Dahlia?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “She’s not my Dahlia,” I mutter, not hearing the rest of their conversation.

“Yeah, he’s in there. I’ll be in my office when you’re ready,” Aerie says.

Dahlia pops her head in. “Hey, Ben, I was hoping I could talk to you.”

“Sure, now?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind.”

“Want to grab a cup of coffee?”

She nods.

Kale clears his throat.

“Dahlia, this is Kale. Kale, Dahlia. Kale manages Surfer’s End magazine.”

His eyes sweep her. “Nice to meet you.” He grins.

“You too,” she answers, and quickly looks toward me. “Ben, I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

“Yeah, sure. Let me take a quick shower and I’ll be right down.”

The door closes and the sound of her boots click on the tile floor.

“She’s hot,” Kale says.

“You’re such an ass**le.”

He raises his hands in the air. “What?”

“Forget it,” I say, and pull the door leading to the locker room. “You’re just hopeless.”

“What did I do?” he calls back.

I just ignore him.

“Hey, why do you call that Kaye chick Kimberly?”

Again I ignore him and turn the water on, shower, and get dressed.

Curiosity has gotten the better of me. Dahlia couldn’t possibly be here to talk about S’belle, could she? I’m pretty sure that even if we’ve moved past our issues, that would still be one very uncomfortable conversation. We’ve only seen each other one time since she bailed me out of jail and helped me find my way to the path I’m on today. One where my life doesn’t center on booze and chicks, but rather on working hard and trying to make something of myself.

The elevator door dings and, glancing around the lobby, I see her outside sitting on a bench with her face lifted toward the sun. She looks the same as she always does. Her blond hair hangs long, her denim jeans are tucked in her boots, she has on a concert T-shirt and a leather jacket. There’s so much history between us, and when I see her like now, carefree and happy, it reminds me of all we shared. Sometimes I forget she was my best friend for so many years. It’s times like now that I miss that—just being able to talk to her.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

She lowers her head and pulls her sunglasses onto her face. “I want to talk to you about Bell.”

My stomach drops. So that is what she’s here to talk about. Fuck me if this conversation isn’t going to make me squirm. Even though the romantic feelings are gone between us, the fact that I cheated on her has to sting. I know it makes me feel like a real ass**le.

I straighten my stance and fix my gaze anywhere but on her.

“Ben, don’t be nervous. Come on, let me buy you a cup of coffee,” she says, standing up.

“You mean let me buy you a cup?”

“Some things never change.”

I grin at her. I don’t care if I have ten cents or ten dollars in my pocket, I’d never let a girl pay—ever. Starbucks is only a few buildings over in the Commons and the line is fairly short. I grab our coffees and once she fixes hers with cream we sit outside.

I take a sip of mine. “Sucks that Jagger had to pull out of the movie. Had they started filming yet?”

She holds her cup with both hands. “No, there was some kind of production delay. But I guess Aerie had a suggestion for a lead replacement and the director is meeting with him today.”

“Really? Who?”

“Do you know the guy that plays guitar for Ivy?”

“No.”

“His name is Leif Morgan and Aerie and Jagger both think he is a shoo-in.”

“Hmm . . . sounds like a good plan.” I tap my fingers on the table. “So, what exactly do you want to talk to me about?”

She blows on her coffee before slurping a small amount so it won’t spill. Her eyes lift toward me. “This isn’t really any of my business, but I’m pretty sure I know how you’re feeling.”

I take a deep breath. “About?”

“Bell. I talked to her this morning and she told me the two of you started seeing each other. And she also told me about what happened last week.”

I stare at her for a moment. No need to beat around the bush. “So you already knew? About the baby, I mean.”

Seconds of silence elapse. “Yes.” She removes the lid from her cup and then looks back up. “I found out the day she told me about the two of you.”

My mouth forms a thin line as I try to control the anger rising up in my throat. “And what, you didn’t think I had a right to know either?”

“Ben, it wasn’t my place to tell you.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “No, I guess not. It seems it wasn’t anyone’s place.” I stress the word anyone.

She ignores my tone, but then again she always was good at doing that. “Did you know Bell was in a really bad accident shortly after she found out she was pregnant?”

I shake my head no.

“She was. The girl, Stacy, who was driving was killed and Bell was in the hospital for six months. She actually didn’t leave until after she gave birth.”

The words gave birth seize my attention, and any questions I might have had catch in my throat. I’ve been thinking of nothing but my child for the past week. She searches my face for any reaction, but I don’t have one. I’m trying to process what she just said and I get lost in her words while attempting to work through the events in my head.

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