The Devil You Know (The Devils #3)(70)

On Thursday, the defendant in Ben’s case decides to settle. In theory, this means he can be done with the whole thing on Friday, but there’s snow in the forecast. The mere idea of his flight getting canceled steals my breath. I hadn’t realized, until this moment, just how much I was counting on seeing him.

“Try to get back,” I tell him. “I don’t want to prepare for the depositions all on my own.”

He laughs. “And you’re hungry,” he reminds me.

“I am. I’m extremely hungry.”

I leave work early and drive to Santa Monica because seeing his house makes me feel closer to him, even if he won’t let me inside it. The work trucks are gone. So is the construction permit. I wonder if he’ll finally invite me over. On the way home I buy groceries. He mentioned once that his favorite food is homemade chicken pot pie. I suppose it won’t kill me to try to make him one.

When I wake on Friday, the first thing I do is check the weather in DC. They got three inches of snow, but so far, Ben’s flight is still leaving on time.

I call my mom as soon as I arrive in the office. “I heard about the snow. Are they shoveling?”

“Honey, you worry too much,” she replies, sounding oddly…happy.

“I don’t worry too much, Mom.” I begin to pace the floors of my office. “For God’s sake…how will you even work at the bar if you sprain your wrist again? Or what if it’s something worse?”

“It’s all been taken care of,” she says. “Look.”

She texts me a photo of her parking lot, where not a single thing is shoveled, aside from the path to her car, which has also been cleared of snow.

“They only did yours?” I ask.

“You can’t ask questions about it,” she replies primly, which immediately floods my brain with worst-case scenarios: a creepy apartment manager offering her special favors, an obsessed customer, following her home at night.

“Mom, this is fucked up. Of course, I’m going to ask. Who did this? Is it someone you even know?”

“I know him now,” she says with a quiet laugh. “Your friend Ben did it. You never mentioned how handsome he was.”

“Ben?” I repeat incredulously. “Ben from work?”

“I can’t believe you said he was ‘really old’. I’ve been picturing a middle-aged man for the past two years.”

I exhale, exasperated. “Mom, how the hell did you meet Ben?”

“I heard someone outside this morning, so I went to the window and there he was, shoveling my path, wearing a suit.”

I perch on my desk, legs suddenly weak. “A suit?”

She laughs. “Yes. No one was more shocked than I to discover it was the terrible Ben Tate, of whom I’ve heard so much.”

My eyes fill and I swallow down the lump now firmly lodged in my throat. He drove all the way out to Manassas before he went to settlement. He must have left before it was even light out.

“How?” I whisper. “I mean, he’s staying in a hotel.”

“I have no idea. But he brought a shovel and salt, and he did the whole thing then came in and fixed my towel rack and the shelf. I’ve got to tell you, Gemma…he didn’t seem to dislike you nearly as much as you dislike him. In fact, I’d venture to say he likes you an awful lot.”

I close my eyes. “I don’t dislike him, Mom.”

She laughs again. I’ve never heard her laugh quite so much in one phone call. “Yes, honey, I know. And I’m glad. If you ask me, he’s a keeper. But he swore me to secrecy, so don’t tell him I told you. That boy might be my son-in-law one of these days.”

“He won’t be,” I reply. My voice cracks.

“My sweetest girl,” she says with a sigh. “You think you can see the future, but all you’re really doing is choosing it for yourself in advance. And I wish you’d stop choosing the things that can’t make you happy.”

When we get off the phone, I lock the office door then sit with my face in my hands, trying not to cry.

I love him.

I love him so fucking much it terrifies me.





When Ben’s flight gets in that night, he comes straight to me from the airport, dropping his suitcase in the foyer and wrapping his arms around me, as if it hurt him to stay away. The apartment smells like smoke from the chicken pot pie I accidentally set on fire, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

I don’t tell him I know what he did for my mom. I don’t tell him I’m ready to be official. But I finally admit something that’s been true since the beginning. “I missed you,” I whisper, pressing my head to his chest.





42





Work, in the days leading up to the first depositions, is frantic. In theory, we’re getting ready to go to trial, but our hope is that we can scare Fiducia into settling. It’ll be a lot faster and cheaper for everyone involved.

Ben and I are working out of his office night after night and over the following weekend. It’s stressful but it’s also…fun. I’ve never enjoyed getting ready for a trial, until now. I didn’t even realize it was a possibility.

At the moment, he’s preparing questions for Ryan Venek, a manager who got promoted despite several fights at work. I’m working on the questions for Rick Sandburg, the vice president who charged two of the strip club outings to his corporate card. I yawn and look up to find him watching me.