Page 46 of Off Script
Ben picks up our empty plates and places them in the sink. I hop up to help him wash the dishes. Since he cooked, it’s fair that I clean, but he tells me to sit back down and relax. I’m not accustomed to someone taking care of me like he is.
After drying his hands off on a kitchen towel, Ben circles the kitchen island. Approaching my chair, he places his hands on my shoulders and gazes directly into my eyes. His eyes are the brightest hazel-green, like that of a freshly watered golf course surrounded by rings of umber, gold, and gray. Although they sparkle in the bright lights of the kitchen, I detect worry and concern within them.
“It’s still early. Have you decided what you’re going to do today? About your job?” His jaw ticks repeatedly, betraying the tension underlying his questions.
Startled, I remain silent for a few beats. From what I witnessed last night when Ben stormed into my apartment, I assumed that he’d pull the alpha male card and demand that I quit my job. I appreciate that Ben respects me enough to let it be my decision.
“I’m not going back. I can’t. I can’t go back to work at that place knowing that something like that will happen again. Only next time, it would likely be worse.”
The clenching of his jaw ceases. “Thank fuck. I was not looking forward to having to accompany you and sit with you in your cubicle until I could hire a bodyguard to escort you.” Flashing me a grin to lighten the mood, Ben jokes, “Fluorescent lighting does nothing for my complexion.”
“No need to go to those extremes yet.” But then a worrying thought pops into my head. “However, I don’t want you to think that… that I expect you to…” Good lord, I feel like Joanna, wildly waving my arms around in the air as I try to explain my thoughts to Ben without sounding presumptuous. “I don’t want you to think I’m looking for a handout or expect financial help or anything.”
“I know you aren’t, Carlisle. I also know you wouldn’t accept a handout if I offered you one.” Moving his hands from my shoulders to my cheeks, he cradles my face, slowly caressing my cheeks with his thumbs. “From our conversations about your dad, I understand how important it is for you to be independent.”
Sitting there gazing up at him, I enjoy the feeling of his hands on me. We haven’t kissed since those two glorious, earth-shattering kisses last night in my condo, and anxiety begins to seep into my veins.
Ben has dated movie stars and supermodels, women who are talented, successful, and breathtakingly beautiful. And who have their lives together.
How will I ever measure up to them?
Last night, I had so many other things running through my mind, I didn’t have any mental energy left to waste comparing myself to Ben’s past lovers, but this morning, I do.
Insecurities flood my brain.
Tapping my forehead gently, Ben murmurs, “Stop. You’re getting inside your head. Stay here with me in this moment, Carlisle.”
How can he read me so easily?It would be amazing if it didn’t scare the bejesus out of me.
But as he lowers his mouth to mine, my intrusive thoughts flee as I focus on Ben and how he makes me feel. His touch is like electricity, jumpstarting my heart and my libido, in a way that I didn’t know possible.
His firm lips work mine into submission while his hands caress my face and neck. I trail my hands up his washboard abs, reveling in the feel of his sculpted muscles under my fingertips. His kiss makes me heady with desire, and I’m quickly craving more than just a kiss.
A small mewl escapes from me as he moves his lips from my mouth to my neck, licking and kissing his way down the column of my neck to my collarbone. The feel of Ben’s soft lips and rough scruff against my sensitive skin has me humming with pleasure. When he finally breaks contact, we’re both breathing heavily.
He kisses my temple chastely and steps back. Reading the disappointment on my features, he smirks. “There will be plenty more time for that later, babe.” Giving me one more kiss, he whispers, “Promise.”
16
Ben
Carlisle and I have been holed up in my house for the past few days hanging out and getting to know each other face-to-face. It's been perfect.
But today I have a meeting that I can't miss, which gives me an opportunity to finally read Carlisle's notebook that Harper gave me. It's been burning a hole in my pocket. I leave for my meeting a few minutes early to allow me time to pull over and read the contents in its entirety. The entries are concise, so it doesn’t take me long. When I finish reading it, I almost wish I hadn’t because I am fucking livid.
As a secondary observer, it's obvious how Mr. King groomed Carlisle. A young woman far away from home without a strong support system and completely dependent on her salaried job to survive, she was ripe for the picking. Mr. King’s calculating harassment started out with minor infractions, designed to test Carlisle's boundaries and reinforce the uneven power dynamic that existed between them. Incrementally, her boss's actions became more and more overt, culminating in yesterday’s assault.
I doubt Carlisle is his first victim, and unfortunately, I doubt she’ll be his last. It takes all my willpower not to storm into StaplesKing and beat King’s face to a bloody pulp. That perverted scumbag deserves nothing less.
Instead, I place a call to my attorney and give him a run-down of what’s detailed in Carlisle’s notebook. Together we put in place a plan to protect Carlisle and ensure that she’ll never have to deal with her boss again. It’s presumptuous for me to do this without discussing it with Carlisle first, but I want to provide her with a solution. I know if I ask to help her, she’ll rebuff my offer out of misplaced pride.
Especially if she knew my attorney’s hourly rate.
I’d love nothing more than to take her boss to court or file criminal charges against him. Unfortunately, it’s a shitty situation and Carlisle doesn’t have a lot of options without any corroborating evidence. It’s a classiche said/she saidcase.
In the meantime, my attorney agrees to messenger over a letter alerting King that Carlisle has retained counsel, and that she would be filing a lawsuit for sexual harassment if he doesn’t pay her severance pay along with providing a glowing letter of recommendation to help her land a new job. I’m hoping that King isn’t savvy enough to call my bluff and pays up. A few months’ salary will provide Carlisle with some breathing room to plot her next career move.
Speaking of career moves, I have my own that need plotting.
