Undeniably Convenient (Boston's Irresistible Billionaires Book 1), page 28
And Cayden handed those images to Cricket with the intent of either her seeing them, Katy seeing them, or me seeing them. Or more likely all three. My heart starts to pound in a way it never has before.
If he’s been watching me, then he knows I’m with Katy. And if he showed up here right after I left, there’s a chance he heard me on the phone with my mom when I told her I was stopping by before heading home. Jesus Christ. This is the most fucked-up thing I’ve ever experienced.
Katy is working a night shift tonight. Her plan was to sleep in as late as she could and then go swimming. I need to talk to her, but I don’t want to do it over the phone. This has to be an in-person conversation.
I rub my forehead. How will I ever get her to believe me? I know how this looks and how it seems, and she has no reason to believe me other than the faith we have in each other. But is it strong enough for this? I don’t know. If it were reversed, would I even listen to an explanation when pictures of her having sex with another man are right in front of me? Pictures dated last week at that. Probably not.
I can’t do this. Not again. Never with her. I can’t lose Katy. It’s not even an option.
But I can’t hide this from her either. Hiding them is worse. It looks guilty when I’m not. And I won’t lie or keep things from her.
For now, I rush back into the locker room and stuff the bag in my locker. Closing it with a resounding bang, I head back out onto the floor. I text Katy, asking if she can come in thirty minutes early so we can talk. She doesn’t reply, and I slip my phone back into my pocket. I do my best to shake out the restlessness that’s been dancing in my limbs since Liz called and head for the nurse’s station to get report from last night’s staff when my boss intercepts me.
“Bennett, do you have a minute?”
Nothing good ever happens when your boss asks if you have a minute. Fuck.
“Of course.” I force a smile and a calm demeanor despite the next round of nerves rioting through me.
“Perfect.” He slaps me on the back. “Walk with me.”
We start to stroll down the hall but quickly find ourselves entering an empty OR. The room is dark and cold, and I fight the urge to shiver and fidget. My skin prickles with awareness. We’re alone, far from the ears of others for a reason.
“What I’m going to talk to you about is delicate.”
Oh shit. “Okay.” I let my arms fall casually in front of me.
“Cayden Craw came to see me yesterday evening.”
My jaw automatically clenches. “I see.”
“He had before, so at first, I didn’t think much of it. A few weeks back he came to see me, asking about a position on the neuro team. I told him I didn’t have any openings at the time, but if one popped up, I’d keep him in mind. Last week, I learned that one of our neuro staff is going to be leaving and I called him, asking him to come in for a series of interviews.”
My hands climb to my hips, and I bluster out a heavy breath. “Evan, if I may—”
“Just let me finish,” he interrupts, and I harden my stance as well as my expression. “He came in yesterday evening even though his first round of interviews isn’t until next week to tell me that you’re having a secret affair with one of your staffers and that you got her pregnant.”
That filthy, slimy, weaselly motherfucker. When I get my hands on him, I will end him.
“He was trying to get me fired for sexual misconduct. Again.”
He nods and then pauses. “Again?”
“Yes.” I fold my arms over my chest. “I learned just this morning from a hospital administrator at Mayo that Cayden paid the women to come forward with false allegations against me. He was released from his position there once that truth came to light. That’s been kept a secret by the hospital for obvious reasons.”
He doesn’t look surprised by this, which shocks me a bit. He runs his hand along his jaw. “Originally when he came to see me, he told me how close the two of you are. How he’s been your best friend for years.”
I shift, looking briefly down at the floor. “He was. He’s also the one who slept with my now ex-wife.”
He nods as if it all makes sense now. “I see. Well, yes, he came in to try to get you fired.”
“Do you mind if I ask what you said to him?”
He holds up a consolatory hand. “I didn’t tell him anything other than I would speak with you. What you told me was in confidence, and I don’t make a habit of betraying my employees’ trust to someone I don’t know. Though I didn’t know Katy’s pregnant.”
Well, that’s a huge relief. And it doesn’t seem as though Cayden used those pictures with him, which means the woman in the pictures doesn’t work here. He was trying to get me fired for being with Katy.
“I appreciate that, Evan. Katy is only seven weeks along,” I explain. “We weren’t planning on announcing it until after her first trimester.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve known Katy for a long time, as you know. I’ve only ever wanted the best for her. I know she’s had some health issues, so I’m happy to hear that so far she’s doing well. I understand your wanting to keep that bit of information to yourselves and frankly, that’s personal between the two of you. And since you had already spoken with me about your relationship with her, there is no misconduct.”
“And his position here?”
“His allegations made me suspicious. What sort of man calls himself close to someone and then tries to get them fired? After he left, I called around. His former supervisor told me he had been let go, though he could not tell me the reason why. Now I know. Regardless, we will be withdrawing our invitation for an interview, and he will never be a surgeon in this hospital.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m very relieved to hear that.”
“Bennett, I also want you to know, though I haven’t spoken with the board yet, in light of everything I’ve learned about Cayden and everything you’ve told me today, I hope you know we value you and your work very highly. You’ve shown to be a man of honor and respect, and I, for one, am very grateful you’re with us.”
I’m stunned into a heavy, awed silence as gratitude shoots up through me like a geyser.
Before I can form any semblance of a reply, he takes a step forward and puts his hand on my shoulder. “Be careful with him, Bennett. He has a plan where you’re concerned.”
“You’re the second person today who has warned me about him. Believe me, I intend to take care of it.”
The moment I step out of the OR, I call Katy, and after two rings, it goes to voicemail. I try again, and the same thing happens. Is she ignoring my calls and sending me to voicemail?
I shoot her a text.
Me: When you get this, please call. I need to talk to you ASAP.
Only as the minutes tick by, I never hear back from her. And instinctively, I know something is very wrong.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
With my headphones on and music blasting through my ears, I feel like a prizefighter ready to get into the ring. Or in this case, the pool. My awesome uncle Greyson has an Olympic-size indoor swimming pool, and because he loves me, he lets me come here whenever I want to do laps. One of the most important things for my pregnancy is staying fit, and since swimming is the jam to my toast, I’ve been upping my laps game by about three each session.
Channeling the mental game of Katie Ledecky—we have the same name even if it’s spelled differently!—and Michael Phelps, I sing at the top of my lungs as I drop my old-school matching track pants and jacket poolside. My cap is clinging to my head, holding my wild locks at bay as I stare at the water, ready to make it my bitch and swim myself to pretend gold.
I never tried out for the Olympic team, nor did I swim competitively on that level. It was an extracurricular in high school, a full ride to college, and a passion that still holds my heart. But that doesn’t mean I don’t fantasize about that large gold coin or championship the way every athlete does, and I won’t lie and say that I haven’t begged Mason’s mom—who won gold for figure skating—to let me wear her medal a time or fifty.
I roll my neck until it pops, swinging my elbows behind me to try and loosen up my shoulders, back, and arms. Then I remove my headphones and scream at the top of my freaking lungs when a shadowy figure moves straight in front of me. My fist comes up to strike, but Cayden’s hands fly up in surrender, warding me off.
“Whoa. Slow your punch there, Ali. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. You didn’t hear me call out to you.”
“A chronic problem of mine,” I manage, though I’m positive he can hear the wariness in my voice. “Then again, I’m supposed to be the only one here right now.”
After everything that happened with Cricket yesterday—oh, hell. I never told Bennett what Cricket said about him or the bag he had her bring to him. I started to. I tried. But then he distracted me and I… I didn’t think about it again for the rest of the night. And now he’s here. Clearly having followed me.
“How did you get in here?”
“I watched you punch in the code. You really should be more careful about that.”
My hands hit my hips, and my head twists in attitude. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s changed before I leave here today. What do you want, Cayden?”
“To show you these. My little Cricket didn’t do everything she was supposed to do last night.”
Hm. “And how do you know that?”
“I was watching, of course. As I’ve been doing for a while now.”
He slams a stack of paper into my chest, intentionally grazing my boobs, and I shove him back. But in doing so, the papers fall to the ground like snowflakes. And as they do, I catch glimpses of each one. Bennett on top of a woman. Bennett’s hands interlocked with a woman’s, her arms above her head. Bennett’s head pulled back in the throes of passion and ecstasy.
Before I can stop myself, I bend and pick them up, noting the time stamp on the top corner. These were taken a week ago. Mentally, I do the math, thinking through dates and times. I remember that day. It was the first day I felt crummy from my pregnancy, and my stomach wasn’t right. We had back-to-back traumas all day, and I remember forcing myself to eat because I was worried about my blood sugar getting too low again. I was working a shift that day, and Bennett was off.
I had texted him a picture of me eating a protein bar, and his response was, Good girl. I’ll reward you when you get home tonight. He did. He had dinner waiting for me, and then we took a bath together. Nothing was off about him. Not one thing.
My phone rings in the pocket of my track pants, and I bend down, sliding it out. It’s Bennett. Does he know about these pictures? He rarely, if ever, calls me when he’s on a shift. I send his call to voicemail, only to have it ring again in my palm and do the same. I need a minute or twenty, and I’m not picking up the phone and talking to him right now.
Because I’m holding pictures of him fucking another woman and I’m trying—I’m trying so damn hard—to find the loophole in this, but I’m coming up short. My heart sinks to the bottom of my soul where it fractures into a million tiny pieces of obliterated flesh. I yank my swim cap off and chuck it across the room. My knees hit the hardscape, my eyes scouring each horrifying image that’s played out before me.
“Sending him to voicemail. That’s cold. Cricket must have given him the pictures. It’ll be interesting to hear him try and talk his way out of this.”
The only thing I have to cling to is that Bennett wouldn’t do this. I couldn’t say that about Zane. Zane cheating wasn’t a farfetched notion for me—not to mention I caught him in the physical act. But Bennett? I just don’t see it. I think about him that night. Him every night we’re together. The things we’ve talked about and shared.
He wouldn’t cheat.
It’s not who he is.
More than that, I can’t imagine him doing anything to risk this baby.
Me aside, that is why we started this undeniably convenient arrangement in the first place. But…
I swallow past the rock stuck in my trachea, stifling the majority of the air from my lungs. My palms turn into sheets of sweat, and the pages become rumpled middle fingers pointed directly at me. The images all blur together. Her body. His body. The dark hotel room. The silk gold curtains surrounding the window, the shades partially closed. I know that hotel. It’s the Four Seasons in Boston. I’ve been to events there.
I look up at a supremely smug Cayden. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I’m sick and fucking tired of everyone always loving him.”
My lips twist. “You mean like his ex-wife?” I give him mockingly sad eyes. “Aw, poor Cayden. No one loves you. Tell it Dr. Phil or someone who pretends to give a shit.”
His eyes flare, and I know I’m onto something there.
“You love her, right? I mean, you were fucking her for a couple of years. But she obviously didn’t want you the same way you want her, which I get. Why would anyone pick you when they could have him?”
I stand, leaving the photos on the ground. I’ll deal with them in a minute.
“Or is it more than that? Are you so in love with him that you’d take any piece of him you could get? Are you trying to ruin his life because he’ll never love you back and neither will his wife?”
“Fuck you,” he snarls, and I laugh caustically because that’s about all I have left right now.
“Never.” I shrug. “Him on the other hand…”
Rage boils up his face, hardening his features and reddening his cheeks. I likely shouldn’t be taunting him like this. I’m alone in this building with a man twice my size and I’m pregnant. His hatred of all things Bennett puts me at a greater risk because he knows I’m pregnant with Bennett’s child. A child Bennett has wanted for a long time.
Provoking a hungry bear fresh from hibernation never turns out well for the unsuspecting tourist. Not to mention he said he’s been watching me for a while. That’s the creepiest thing ever. Every woman’s worst nightmare. I need him to leave, and I need him to leave now. I can deal with him after that.
“When my father died,” I tell him, “I watched from the back seat, stuck and unable to move. I saw the slow, agonizing pain of his death. I hope one day you feel something a million times worse than that.”
He chokes, not having expected that from me, and I’m not sure how much I mean it. I’m not one to wish death and pain on others—I’m a freaking trauma surgeon—but I hate this man with unparalleled vitriol.
“You can go now. You’ve done your worst.”
“Not yet, Katy. I’m not sure I’ve done my worst yet. I’ve always had a fondness for ruining all the things Bennett loves.”
He touches my hair, running his fingers down a thick lock of it, and I shiver at the cold malice in his eyes.
I give him a good, hard shove toward the exit, pushing all my weight into it and making him stumble a few steps, but unfortunately, he catches himself before he falls. For a second, he looks like he’s about to come at me, but I point to the cameras in the corner.
“I wouldn’t try it,” I warn, holding his gaze and refusing to flinch. “You lay a finger on me, and I’ll have you in jail for the rest of your life. That’s not a threat. It’s a promise. If you’ve done your stalkerish research, then you know exactly who I am and the pull I have in this city.”
For a moment, he blinks, stunned by that, and I wonder if he has or if he’s been so toxically focused on Bennett that he has no clue. I hope he doesn’t.
He gathers himself and turns away from me. He knows he doesn’t have to touch me to hurt me. And thankfully, his threat dies there as he notes the cameras all around this place. The central square guys don’t fuck around when it comes to security. Or their families.
He gathers himself, his swagger returning. “See you around, Katy. Sorry I had to be the one to ruin your day, but sometimes evils are necessary.” He chuckles at that, thinking he’s so very funny.
Cayden saunters like a prideful alley cat toward the exit, and the moment he’s gone, the door slamming shut behind him, I collapse to the floor. Air tumbles past my lungs only to rush back in. Thank God he left. Thank God, he didn’t touch me.
My gaze drops to the images spread out before me. The cold stone beneath my ass stiffens my muscles to the point of rigor. The pages shuffle through my hands one after the other in an endless cycle as I search for something—one fucking thing—that will tell me these are bullshit.
Only I can’t see beyond Bennett on top of this woman.
Leaving them where they are, I dive into the pool, starting my laps at a brutal pace. My mind swirls and tears threaten, but I can’t reconcile what I know of Bennett to those pictures. I need to call him. I need to speak with him and face this head-on. I finish my lap and pull myself up and out of the water, go for my towel, and wrap it around me. The photos are on the ground beside my phone, and as I reach for it, something in one of the images catches my attention.
It's night in the photo. As in, the crack of an open shade reveals a dark window beyond. I was home by the time it was dark out, and he was there making dinner. Lifting the picture, I examine it. I realize it’s not a full time stamp, just a date, but no actual time. I spread out the images one by one and scrutinize each one carefully.
His hands holding hers are weird. It’s so subtle that if you didn’t look closely, you might not see it. But her fingers look almost cut off and misaligned with his.
Interesting. Hope starts to shake in my chest like an earthquake, but I’m not yet ready to scream hallelujah. I need a few more details first.
I don’t call Bennett. Not yet. Instead, I make a totally different type of call.
Vander’s gravelly voice crackles through my ear. “Kit-Kat?”
I fold my legs, still wrapped in my towel. “How easy is it to alter pictures?”
“Depends,” he says. “What do you mean by alter?”
“Remove a person and replace their body with someone else’s.”
