Page 35 of Every Good Thing
His fingers stretch against the wheel, and he looks almost surprised. “It’s nothing.”
I huff—it’s the answer I should’ve expected. “I can’t close. Alice has tomorrow covered with a bare-bones menu. I’ll figure things out then.”
“What’s to figure out? You can’t bake like this, and you don’t have enough staff to compensate for your absence.”
“I’ll make do. Somehow.”
He doesn’t like my bullshit answer, but it’s all I have right now.
We stop at Publix for my prescriptions. While I wait in the Jeep, he runs in and returns with the pills, a Dr. Pepper, and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups because he says, “Your blood sugar might be low.”
When he learns I haven’t eaten since breakfast, he detours to Elizabeth’s Pizza for carry-out—not the dinner I planned, but nothing about today has gone right.
Heading out of Wilmington, he finally says, “Riley Trust Bank wants me to be their new head of security for their Wilmington campus. Outstanding benefits. Better hours that’ll align with the family schedule. Nearly triple my current salary. Incredible healthcare. There’s an on-site preschool. Ruthie could go to work with me.”
“Ruthie loves her school, and she helps me in the kitchen in the afternoons. It’s our time.”
“It’d be there if we need it,” he amends.
I peel open the peanut butter cups and shove one into my mouth. “Riley Trust Bank, as in Riley Trust Park with the baseball fields and the Riley Trust Amphitheater downtown? That’s a big deal.”
“Yes. Thirty-five hundred employees. A thirty-acre campus. I’d manage all their security systems from their campus to their network, handle employee background checks and situations, and provide private security for the family.” He smirks slightly. “It’s nothing like being a mall cop.”
“I wasn’t thinking mall cop. You’d hate that.”
“Say again?” He leans closer, keeping his eyes on the road.
I repeat myself louder, and he nods.
“I wouldn’t even wear a uniform. Business casual.”
A smile drifts up my cheeks, imagining Ben in khakis and button-downs every day. “You sound interested.”
“I wasn’t initially, but I am now.”
“It sounds amazing… if leaving the police department is what you want. Is it? It must be since you’re job hunting.”
“I wasn’t job hunting. They approached me.” He twists the wheel like he’s wringing a wet towel. “I know the family.”
“The Rileys? Are you hobnobbing with rich socialites behind my back?”
“No,” he answers quickly, unamused.
“How do you know them?”
I expect a cop story. He met Alice Harvey after she pulled her gun on a purse snatcher at Independence Mall. The first time we met, he pulled me over for speeding. And erratic driving, he’s quick to add whenever I tell the story. Ben meets many people through work—it’s the nature of what he does.
So, hearing, “I dated their daughter,” makes me choke on chocolate and peanut butter. I scramble for the Dr. Pepper but fumble with it one-handed. Ben opens it for me. I take a long swig.
Through Dr. Pepper burps, I sputter, “Let me guess… Lauren?”
“Yes.”
“Ben…” His short name sounds longer with disappointment trailing in my voice.
“It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does. An ex-girlfriend offers you a dream job, but you can’t tell me about it because I’m difficult to talk to suddenly?”
