Broken Ground: (Broken Series Book 1) (8 page)

"So if it isn't her that has you upset, and it isn't the diner, what is it?" If Lauren's attempts at sabotage weren't the worst thing going on, I was afraid to know what was.

She stared out at the lake. The sun was shimmering on the water and sending ripples of light across her face. "I got a call from GFS this morning." She stated blandly.

My heart sank at the mention of her D.C. employer. What if they wanted her to come back? Would she go now and leave me here alone for the rest of the summer? Shit. Despite my panic, I managed a steady voice. "Oh yeah? What did they say?"

Her arms crossed again, fists balled up on either side of her torso. "They informed me that I was expected to attend the upcoming gala the company is hosting. I was the head of the committee who arranged the partnership with the charity, and I'm required to be there."

I wasn't sure I understood her distress. "I take it you don't want to go." More of a question than a statement but it was pretty obvious from her reaction.

She blew out a breath. "I don't know. Outreach Hospice, the charity being benefitted, has been a passion of mine for years. It's not that I don't believe in the cause. I do, more than I can even express, but everyone in my department will be in attendance. Including my ex, Keith." She virtually spat the name, and I got an icy cold feeling on the back of my neck that told me I wasn't going to like what she said next.

Ali blew out a big breath and met my eye. "Remember when I told you my reasons for being here weren't entirely altruistic? That I needed a break?"

I nodded and tried to understand the look of shame in her eyes. What could she have possibly done?

"My leave of absence, the one everyone thinks I took to come help my sick friend? The leave of absence came first, two weeks before Teach had his stroke. It was also involuntary and unwarranted."

"Why involuntary?" I wasn't sure if I even wanted to know.

She stood and walked over to the pier, placing her hands on the railing as if she needed the support. "Remember, you asked." I kept quiet, and she went on. "When I finished college and immediately got hired on at GFS, the biggest marketing company in the Northeast, I was ecstatic. It was a crappy low-level job, but I knew I'd earn my way to a better position. What made it the most exciting was that my college boyfriend, Keith, had been hired on as well. We had these big plans for the future, both of us ambitious and dedicated. We enjoyed working together for the first few years, even though we were technically in different departments." She paused for a moment to rub her hands over her arms as if she were chilled. "Then the CMO position was posted and everything changed. We were both recommended by our department heads and, at first, it was a joke between us. We even planned a vacation to celebrate the promotion, no matter which of us got it."

"As the date of the announcement approached, his attitude changed, became hostile and mocking. The people in the office even treated me differently. I couldn't understand it. He and I had our problems, but he hadn't ever been outright mean to me. I just couldn't figure it out."

I felt myself tensing at the thought of him mistreating her but said nothing. It wasn't as if I'd have known what to say anyway.

"When the announcement came, I was elated. I had worked my ass off from day one, sometimes seventy hours a week, and I felt I deserved it. Keith didn't see it that way. There was a huge argument, and we ended up parting ways soon after." She stopped for a minute, looking far away. "I thought it was over, that his hateful attitude wasn't my problem anymore. But I was wrong. He spread rumors about our break up, made me out to be some kind of corporate shrew, swore most of the work I'd turned in was stolen from him, told co-workers that I'd aborted his baby against his wishes because it didn't fit into my career plans. That one was my favorite. He played it off like he was devastated. There was never any baby. We barely even looked at each other the last year we were together between work and social obligations." There was something in her voice that went beyond mere anger.

"Jesus. How did you respond?"

"I didn't. I decided people were going to believe what they wanted, and nothing I could say would change that. To vehemently deny a rumor just lends it credibility in the eyes of gossips. I kept my mouth shut and figured it didn't matter what they thought. It was just bullshit rumors."

Somehow I knew it was more than that. "Did the rumors stop?"

"Eventually. It was like he just gave up his stupid vendetta. For a while, I was perfectly happy in my new position at work and with my newfound freedom from Keith. Talia and I were sharing an apartment, just like we planned when we were little girls. It was perfect. But you know what they say..."

"Let me guess, 'All good things must come to an end'?"

"Well, I was going to say 'life's a bitch', but yours works too. I came into my office after lunch one afternoon to find all three of the partners standing over my desk, scowling at something on my computer screen. The screen I distinctly remember turning off before I left."

"What was on the screen?" She definitely had my attention. A feeling of dread had slowly crept in and took up residence in my gut.

"One of the secretaries called the partners after she says she came in to put something on my desk and noticed an open email on my screen, one that divulged confidential information about our client list and contracts. It was addressed to one of GFS's competitors."

"That son of a bitch," I muttered, instantly pissed the fuck off. That pretty much explained her suspension. Calling it administrative leave didn't change what it was. It was an accusation, plain and simple.

She was quiet for a while, looking out over the water with an unreadable expression. She was probably upset even thinking about it. When she spoke, I was proved wrong. "You automatically knew it wasn't me." She said thickly, almost in a whisper as she put a hand on my arm to turn me toward her. "You barely know me. How do you know I'm not lying, trying to blame Keith as punishment?"

"Because that's not who you are," I said simply, knowing I was right.

Letting go of my arm, she shifted, dropping her head and looking at the ground. "You can't possibly know that. Even the people closest to me had their doubts... wondered if I was guilty." Her voice cracked.

I stepped closer, placing a hand under her chin and lifting it so that she met my eye, my body mere inches from hers. "Then they're the ones who don't know you." I pointed at her chest. "No one with as big a heart as yours would lower themselves to revenge. You've got too much backbone to rely on scheming to make a point." I dropped my hand but held her gaze. "Sneak attacks are for fucking cowards, Ali. You're not a coward."

"Thank you for that," she said quietly as she backed away and stepped into the grass, making her way over to the willow.

"So, it's not the gala you want to avoid, it's him." I asserted. "Understandable."

"It's not just him. It's all of them. It's the partners, whose only reason for not firing me outright is fear of my stepfather, who I'd never even tell about the situation much less ask for help. They think I'm some pitiful wretch who needs to be saved by my mother's rich, powerful knight in Prada armor."

During one of our Sunday dinners, I'd learned that Ali's mother had left her and her father when Ali was barely a teenager. The woman was more interested in money than family, and she knew her blue-collar husband and small town life weren't about to land her where she wanted to be. She'd eventually remarried, repeatedly, and was currently on husband number four. Ali said she didn't even bother to get to know them anymore because they had a short shelf life.

I laughed my ass off when she told me she'd taken to calling them all "Benjamins" because all her mother saw when she looked at them was hundred-dollar bills. Ali didn't want their money or use their connections because she wanted to make it on her own.

I admired the hell out of that.

From the way she described her father, I'd say she was more like him. Grounded, generous, content, and kind-hearted. My favorite story of hers was the one where she admitted her dad's version of 'hunting' involved a camera rather than a gun. It was his odd hunting practice that inspired Ali to paint. She started out using his wildlife photos as her inspiration.

I installed wildlife cameras all over the property the week after hearing that story.

I wondered if her father would have rethought his 'no guns' policy if he'd been privy to Keith's machinations, which I was sure he wasn't.

Ali was starting to pace as she listed all the reasons she didn't want to attend the gala.

"And it's all those bastards who bought into Keith's lies, who think I'm guilty, that I'm some monster who stomped him into the ground on my way to the top." She scoffed. "Imagine how much fun I'll have all night hearing the whispers as I pass by."

"Who gives a damn what they think, Ali? You know who you are. If they can't see how amazing you are, fuck them."

She looked at me and laughed. "You don't understand. I'm not afraid of them, I'm not afraid of Keith either. I'm afraid of my reaction to the whole situation. I've fantasized about bashing Keith's face in for almost a year now, and I know he's going to try to goad me into causing a scene, it's how he operates. If I can't keep my cool, I'm definitely out of a job. Never mind that I will have embarrassed the charity I've worked so hard to support. The children at Outreach Hospice deserve better than to have me ruin their benefit." She shook her head. "That's what I'm afraid of."

From the look on her face as she described kicking Keith's ass, I had no doubt she meant it. So she had a fiery temper? Good. One more item on the list of things that turned me on about her. "Are you taking Talia with you? Maybe she can diffuse the situation."

This time, Ali's laugh was genuine and loud. "Talia? She'd be the one to throw the first punch. No way can I take her along, we'd end up in handcuffs for sure." She wiped her eyes, having laughed so hard they started to water. "I needed that laugh, though. Thanks."

"How about if I take you?" She looked shocked at my offer, but there was no way she was as surprised as me. I hadn't meant to say it. The idea popped into my mind and then shot right out of my mouth. Fuck.

I may not have meant to say it, but the idea instantly struck me as a good one.

She sputtered a bit before finding her voice. "You?" She shook her head. "I couldn't ask you to do that. This is my drama. I appreciate the offer, but I didn't tell you about it so you'd try to fix things. I'll be fine. I just needed to vent."

Shit. I forgot she was so stubborn. I'd need a different approach. "I wasn't offering to fix anything, slugger. I just thought that you could use some moral support. It also wouldn't hurt to bring along a potential contributor as your date. Maybe your bosses would see it as ambitious."

She raised her brow. "Potential contributor?"

"Yeah. Spencer, Brant, and I have been looking into new opportunities to support. We have funds earmarked for it but haven't settled on anything yet. With the year half over, we need to find a charity soon." I tried to be nonchalant, but she was having none of it. Before I knew it, she had jumped up and launched herself into my arms.

She squeezed so tightly I was afraid she'd break a fucking rib but I was enjoying every second. "Thank you so much! I can't believe you'd do that for me." She let go and stepped back. "You don't even know anything about the charity. Are you sure you don't want to gather some info first?"

She'd used the words 'children' and 'hospice' when discussing the charity... hell no, I didn't need to hear any more. I was in.

"I don't see the need, but you might want to put together something for Spencer to look over. Not that he would rescind the offer, but it would assuage his OCD tendencies to have all the specifics on paper."

She was practically jumping up and down. "Lucky for him, I'm obsessed with details." Her smile was radiant. I had done that. I'd put someone else's problems first, taking her from desolate to elated in the span of one conversation. I'd wanted to help her and I did. Not because there was anything in it for me, not because I was attracted to her, but because she was someone I cared about, and I didn't like seeing her upset.

Looked like I was capable of being a good friend after all.

D.C.

Present Day

The Evening of the Gala

I STEPPED OUT
of the limo in front of the address Ali had given me. The apartment she shared with Talia was in a middle-class area of D.C., surrounded by small businesses that looked both new and trendy. Coffee shops, tiny art galleries, and bookstores peppered the storefronts across the street. It was the perfect location for Ali. Like the whole block had been built to suit her.

Tugging slightly at my collar, I made my way to the entrance. The doorman stood sentry and didn't smile as I approached. "May I buzz you in, sir?" He sounded so bored I nearly yawned in sympathy. For someone his age, which I guessed to be early twenties, standing there all day probably wasn't the most stimulating of jobs.