Company Ink (17 page)

“That,” Ethan said. “That’s the point. You’re not listening. If something doesn’t fit in line with your plans, you gloss right over it. You don’t even fight, you just act as if it doesn’t exist. And it drove her crazy.”

Ben thought back, tried to remember an instance of that being true. Within seconds, a memory hit him: Elena, telling him that she wanted more in her life than just housewife duties. Maybe she’d mentioned some sort of class or workshop. He hadn’t wanted to fight, so he’d handed over his credit card and told her to do whatever. He frowned.
What the hell was wrong with that?

“She had no support,” Ethan continued. “Just your money. She told me that she felt it when you guys slept together, so she stopped wanting to be near you.”

Ouch
. He remembered that long phase before the end of their marriage where she wouldn’t touch him. She refused to share a bed, wouldn’t hug him in greeting, and couldn’t handle being in the same room with him for too long. Could Ethan be right? In trying to give Elena everything she wanted, had he forgotten to give her what she
needed
? He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear any more.

“The marriage failing broke her heart, and it made her bitter because she only wanted to be married once, and she blames you for having to leave,” Ethan said. “The more time I spent with her, the angrier she got. And she wants payback. I mean, I’ve got a phone recording of her laughing as she wonders how you’d deal with life after she took everything and you learned the hard way that money didn’t make dreams come true.”

A wave of nausea ran through Ben’s body. Everything Ethan said made sense with the pieces of Elena’s frequent rants that he could remember; even the fact that he couldn’t recall her words drove Ethan’s point home.
You jerk, Ben
. And if anything could get Violet to throw her hands in the air, this development would be it.

He was surprised to hear Violet speak. “So why now? Are you telling me you care about what happens to Ben after everything?”

“Look, I’ll level with you,” Ethan replied. “Normally, I’d mind my business. But Ben and I go way back—and I’ve seen both sides of the story. He’s not a total jerk like Elena would like everyone to believe. And she’s not well, if you know what I’m saying. She doesn’t handle situations the way you or I do. She needs help, and her getting her way isn’t going to get it to her.”

“She sounds determined,” Violet sighed.

Ethan nodded. “She is. And she’s not going to stop. She’s a woman with a broken heart who has an interesting way of viewing the world. And as a result, she’s selfish, co-dependent, and often times delusional. I know I wasn’t the best friend to Ben in the end, but I can’t let her win this one.”

• • •

Only a couple of hours had passed by the time they left Ollie’s, but thankfully Ben had finally relaxed enough to hear more of Ethan’s desire to testify against Elena—at another bar further downtown, where Ethan worked. Violet politely declined the invitation but stuck around long enough to see them off. She and Ben strolled hand in hand toward the curb as Tommy and Ethan walked ahead to attempt to hail a taxi.

“Do you think he’s telling the truth?” she asked.

Ben nodded. “I know he is. Everything he said made sense. And it bothers me. Have I made you feel that way since we started dating?”

Violet thought about it. Complications with their involvement aside, she couldn’t think of a time when she didn’t feel he was hearing her. With the exception of the secret she was keeping from him now, she’d describe their time together as great.

“No, it’s been fine between us. But it does look like you’ve got some things to re-examine.”

“You’re right,” Ben replied. “And you’re sure you don’t want to come to Babbo with us?”

“No, I’m just going to head home and process all of this.”

Ben squeezed her hand. “Is everything okay?”

“Ultimately, yes. Everything’s okay right now,” she answered. “But this is a lot, and I’ve kind of got my own … stuff happening.”

Ben stopped her. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that. If you come along tonight, we could talk about that too.”

Violet shook her head, leaning on his chest. “We’ll talk tomorrow. I’ll meet you here after work, okay?”

He nodded, reaching into his pocket. “I’m glad you said that. Here … ”

He pulled out a set of keys, dangling them in the air. Her heart sped a little, and she wasn’t sure she understood why. Was having a copy of his keys truly a “next step” kind of thing, or was she overcome because of the incurable romantic that had just stirred inside of her?

“No more keys in the icing bucket.” He grinned. “I figured you might as well just have keys of your own.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. She blinked several times as she tried to string a sentence together, realizing with embarrassment that she was about as floored as if he’d proposed marriage. “Ben, I … ”

“I hope I’m not moving too fast for you,” he added. “It just makes sense for you to have keys. I made these yesterday hoping you’d agree. I’m not overwhelming you, am I?”

Violet nodded with a laugh. “Oh, you absolutely are! But you’re right—it makes sense.”

She pocketed the keys with a watery grin, and he cupped her face in his hands and placed a sweet kiss on her cheek.

“Do you want me to take you home? I can always meet up with these guys later.”

“Ben, please—I’m a big girl, I can make it home without an escort. Go sort all of this out, and I’ll see you back here tomorrow.”

“Okay, deal. And then we’ll talk about you?”

“Absolutely.”

They were interrupted by the sound of Tommy calling Ben’s name. Ben paused for one more kiss before dashing over to Tommy and Ethan, getting in the cab, and promptly disappearing down Freedom Place. With a happy smile on her face and a giddy spring in her step, Violet headed in the opposite direction, planning to stop at CVS for a salty snack before taking the bus back home. She paused on the corner of West Seventieth and West End; for a split second, she wanted to take her shiny new keys and go back to Ben’s house and surprise him when he got home. But instead she crossed the street, knowing that he needed this night out with the guys and she needed a glass of wine and a bubble bath. Violet had barely reached the opposite side when someone tapped her shoulder.

She hopped onto the curb, a little startled that anyone would be touching her. She turned and came face to face with Steve, who looked like he was barely holding it together.

“Making new friends, Vi?”

She glanced to the left and the right, looking for the quickest exit while refusing to meet his gaze. “That’s none of your business.”

“I believe it is,” he replied. “After all, it was you who led me to believe we were headed somewhere.”

“What? No, that’s not what happ—”

Steve stepped closer. “You were the one who called me after I left you my number, right?”

“Yes, but I—”

“And you were the one who agreed to have dinner with me, didn’t you?”

Violet felt her strength wane. Suddenly, she was the twenty-year-old baby face Steve could talk circles around. “I did, but … ”

He began backing her toward the CVS window display. “Well then, why would you go out with another guy? Do you like lying to me?”

Eyes wide, she struggled to find her voice. “No, I—”

“Are you playing games with me, Vi?”

“No, that’s not—”

“It seems like you are.” Steve was so close, she could feel his breath on her face. “Why can’t you just tell me?”

With a burst of exasperated energy, Violet shoved him away. “Would you shut up and let me speak? Yes, I agreed to have dinner with you. And you stood me up, remember? That was just enough to snap me out of my momentary lapse of judgment,” she said, determined not to give him a chance to speak. “And I don’t know where you thought I was leading you on, because I told you the very next time I saw you that I was seeing someone else and wanted nothing to do with you. Now, if you’re looking for someone to double-talk and trick, look somewhere else, because I am not that girl anymore!”

“Look at you,” he sneered, grabbing her by the arm. “You may have fooled other people into thinking you’re this strong-willed woman with a mind of her own. But here’s the thing, princess. The two concepts don’t exist where females are concerned. So save it for your punk bitch boyfriend, because I know what you are and where girls like you belong.”

A voice rang out in the distance; the doorman from a building several feet away was approaching at a rapid pace.

“You are disgusting!” She yanked her arm away from him, completely horrified to learn that, in the years since they’d broken up, he’d managed to become even more of a pig.

Violet’s hand connected with the side of his face so hard, she was sure his ears were ringing. But he grabbed at her again, this time shoving her into the window just hard enough to get a startled scream out of her.

Suddenly, the doorman and another stranger flew at Steve, holding him back as a man and woman clad in CVS-branded polo shirts surrounded Violet to make sure she was okay.

“Right, Vi, you’re
real
strong,” Steve called out, taunting her as she climbed into a cab someone hailed for her escape. “I’ll see you later, little girl!”

• • •

She was still shaking when she walked through her door twenty minutes later. Tears were now streaming down her face; the fear, humiliation, and anger threatened to make her fall apart at the seams. She kicked off her shoes in the living room, pulling her shirt over her head with frustrated grunts as she made her way to the shower. The thought of calling Ben crossed her mind briefly, but she was too much of a mess to talk to him now. She was naked by the time she reached the bathroom, sniffling and holding back sobs as she ran the shower, setting the temperature as hot as she could take it.

She stepped under the torrent of steaming water, wishing she could wash away the last half hour of her life. So many things she should have said, so much she should have done. She’d imagined for years how it would be to stand up to Steve, finally let him know he held no power over her. In her mind, she’d failed—she ran when he stepped the game into high gear. In fact, she’d never felt weaker. Steve could still pull her apart without much effort, and it made the years she’d spent changing her life seem like a waste.

If she couldn’t stand up to the guy who’d essentially abused her all those years ago, then how the hell was she supposed to be strong anywhere else?

Then there was Ben and the feeling that being in his arms could right everything, and it made her angry. Tears streamed down her face again as she reprimanded herself for wanting to fall into a guy’s arms like some damsel in distress. Stubbornly, she shut off the shower—
no more feeling sorry for yourself, Vi!
She wrapped a towel around her body and padded into her bedroom where she towel-dried quickly as small pools of water began to form at her feet by the side of the bed. She turned off the light and got into bed, still naked.

What happened tonight would never happen again.

An hour later, Violet woke up to a case of the shakes that she’d never experienced before. Her teeth chattered, and the blanket on her naked skin felt like sandpaper. She jumped up and got dressed, her body stinging with every move she made. Every sign pointed to her having a fever. Dammit, her thermometer was sitting in her medicine cabinet in desperate need of a new battery. She groaned and dropped back onto the bed. Had a phantom cold struck during the hour she’d managed to sleep, or was she having a panic attack? The cold seemed more likely, since she hadn’t had a panic attack since …
Right, since Steve
.

Knowing she was in for a long night, she rolled over and grabbed her cell phone. It took one phone call, an apology for calling after ten o’clock, and five minutes of persuasion to get another icer to cover her shift tomorrow. Hopefully, Ben had been paying attention the last time they did production together, because the task would be all his tomorrow. Unwilling to call him and go through an explanation and possibly talking him out of coming over, she left Ben a text message:

Inundated with nightmares, Violet tossed and turned in complete darkness for the first few hours as she listened to her phone buzz on the nightstand. Somewhere between consciousness and dreamland, she thought she might have heard her doorbell. Safe in her cocoon within her tightly locked and barricaded apartment, she snuggled deeply under the covers, muttering curse words in the direction of the front door. She had no idea what time it was when sleep finally took over, but she was thankful her brain had finally given up and pushed current events into her subconscious.

When she awoke, her head felt empty, and her body ached as if she’d been drinking all night. The alarm clock told her it was 10:00 a.m.—unheard of for Violet, who was normally an early bird. She tried to stretch, but it was painful; she knew immediately that she could probably use a few more hours of sleep. Her eyes closed, lids heavy, as she reminded herself that she had no desire to participate in the world today anyway.

Her phone buzzed at that moment.
Crap.
There was still a world out there looking for her. She whimpered from beneath her blankets, reaching out and grabbing her phone. The backlight nearly blinded her as she activated her screen. She squinted as she read her alerts: twenty-six missed calls, three text messages. She released an exhausted sigh. Six of the calls were from Ben, while the other twenty were from a private number.

“Steve,” she muttered, her tummy wrenching at the thought of him.

Thankfully, the text messages were all from Ben, and they were all dripping with concern:

Her fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard as she typed her response. She didn’t want to talk about anything concerning last night. After carefully choosing her words, she finally hit send: