Flawlessly Broken: (Broken Series Book 2) (25 page)

THE RESTAURANT WAS
a tad slow for a Wednesday night, so I decided to catch up on some bookkeeping and file away the stack of invoices on my desk. I grew bored of that rather quickly and ended up on my computer doing the one thing I told myself I wouldn’t do.

I was googling Ivey Erickson.

Monday and Tuesday, I had methodically questioned Spencer about their marriage. He’d grudgingly recounted his relationship with the woman, and now I needed a face to match up with the name. I was expecting something along the lines of devil horns and maybe a nest of vipers for hair... what I got was a beautiful blonde with startling blue eyes and a striking smile.

Apparently, she was fond of social media and having her photo taken. Between Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and about five platforms I’d never even heard of, there were thousands of pictures to peruse if one was so inclined. After clicking through a few, I closed out the search page and sat back in my chair, not sure how I felt about what I’d seen.

She kind of looked like me. It bothered me that someone like that shared some of my physical traits. Or maybe it was that she and I had shared the same man. There was no denying the resemblance, though, and I briefly wondered if Spencer thought so, too.

No. He hated the woman, there was no way he sought me out because we looked alike. If anything, I would imagine he’d avoid thinking of her as much as possible.

She’d really done a number on him.

From what he told me, they weren’t really serious at first, just the occasional date when their schedules lined up. She was an interior decorator looking to make a name for herself, and his company—CBD, which he owned with Clay and Brant—was just getting off the ground. They went on like that for months, never making plans or anything. Just going with the flow.

Then CBD picked up a huge project building a multi-million-dollar estate for the lead singer of an up-and-coming band. The build put a lot of demands on Spencer’s time and, suddenly, so did Ivey. She was very supportive and encouraging of his career, asked a lot of questions, and before the final brick was laid on the rock star mansion, she claimed to be in love.

Of course, Spencer hadn’t made that connection at the time. Like most of us, he only realized his mistake looking back at things later.

I reopened the search page and scrolled through the image results, comparing what I saw to what I knew about the woman.

She’d fawned over him and cooed in his ear about how much she wanted a baby, knowing he’d always desired a family. He’d felt like he was living a dream. His company was suddenly on the map and in high demand, he was working with his two best friends every day, making more money than they ever dreamed of, and he had a woman by his side that adored him and wanted to have his children.

He was floating on air.

Until he wasn’t.

When Ivey had nearly died from complications of mixing the fertility drugs with the birth control shot, he’d been terrified. Then hurt. And after he knew she was going to be okay, enraged.

Within two months of learning of her deception, he’d served her the divorce papers. He didn’t even fight her over money. He was willing to give up half of his assets just to be done with their marriage and with her. A month later, he found out she’d been having an affair during their last year together.

Ivey had been the one to tell him.

She threw it in his face one evening when they accidentally ran into one another at a party. She’d been there with the man she’d been fucking behind his back. She laughed in his face and wondered how much it sucked for him to find this out
after
it was too late to change their divorce agreement.

Vicious bitch.

He had every right to hate that woman and I could tell from his tone when he spoke of her that he was still angry, but I could also hear the hurt that he still carried around.

That was why I’d looked her up. I needed to be able to recognize her face because, if I ever had the pleasure of running into her, I was going to knock her goddamn teeth out.

THURSDAY MORNING’S MEETING
with Derek was much smoother than the previous days. He stuck to the interview questions, kept the conversation relevant, and minded his distance in a way that made me wonder if what I’d said had gotten through or if Spencer had threatened to kill him. Regardless of the reason, it was a huge about-face and I was thankful for it.

I hadn’t asked Spencer what they’d talked about the day before. I was just relieved they’d both walked out with no obvious signs of a fight. And I’d been too proud of myself to care. It wasn’t easy for me to stand up to Derek like that without my emotions getting the better of me, but I’d done it.

Sitting in the Chevelle blasting the heat and the stereo, I’d felt like a bit of a badass.

Spencer had laughed at me when he climbed in and given me a high-five—like we were in middle school and I’d just clocked the schoolyard bully. It was hilarious.

Looking at Derek today, he seemed different, subdued. Maybe a little sad. I wanted to feel bad for him, I really did. It was my nature to nurture—Spencer was right on that one—but I just couldn’t muster any feeling at all for the man who’d left me crying in my driveway all those years ago. Not sympathy or anger, not even familiarity. He wasn’t the same and I wasn’t the same.

For the first time since he walked back into my life, it looked like he knew it too.

I could only hope he would make a graceful exit instead of picking a fight with Spencer. As much as I appreciated my over-protective boyfriend—a title that still sounded odd to me—I didn’t want him getting into trouble. Derek wouldn’t win in a fight with Spencer, we all knew that, but Derek
would
be the type to be a sore loser and press charges or something equally spiteful. He’d had a vindictive streak as long as I’d known him, and I doubted that had changed over the years.

He might be giving me that patient, wounded look today, but that didn’t mean it would last.

He stood as we finished up, reminding me again about the photographer before quietly saying goodbye and walking away without even attempting a handshake. My relief at his attitude change was beginning to morph into something akin to suspicion.

Even Spencer felt it, coming up beside me as I stood watching Derek leave. He kissed my head and followed my gaze. “Why do I get the feeling that little bastard is still up to something?” He mused.

I shrugged and pursed my mouth in an attempt to seem unaffected. “He’s just tending his bruised ego.”

My explanation didn’t seem to impress him. He turned to me with a wry look on his face and a snarky comment on his lips, but was cut off by the ringing of his cell. He smirked at me as he took it out and thumbed the screen, mouthing ‘Brant’ and moving back to his spot at the bar to take the call.

Taking the water glasses from the table I’d been sitting at with Derek, I went back to the kitchen to put them in the sink and grabbed a small fruit and cheese sampler from the walk-in cooler to share with Spencer before we headed out.

When I got back to the bar Spencer was still on the phone, presumably with Brant, and seemed agitated. His voice wasn’t raised but he was practically snarling into the phone and alternately jabbing a finger at the screen on his iPad.

“What the hell are we supposed to do? We can’t start the build now and we have nothing upcoming that we can start on with such short notice. Fuck!” He scrolled through something on his tablet and nodded at whatever Brant was saying. “Yeah, I know. But what about the crews? What about the office staff?”

I stood in the archway between the dining room and bar, not sure whether to approach or leave him alone to hash out whatever this was.

He must have heard me there, though I was barely breathing, much less moving, because he turned around on his bar chair and motioned me over, trying for a reassuring smile and failing miserably.

I decided to take up residence behind the bar, placing the snack in front of him and busying myself making him a fresh cappuccino while I tried not to snoop on his conversation. The one he was having three feet from where I stood. Yeah, right. I was going to hear every word but he seemed not to care about that or he wouldn’t have motioned for me to join him.

“Okay, yeah. Maybe we can do something like that. No, no. You’re right. We can at least be productive while we try to fill the schedule.” He listened for a while, picking at the sampler and crunching on a few grapes. “I have a lot to do for the wedding gift and I’ve heard that Talia has been drafted to help with some of the preparations, maybe I’ll see if I can assist somehow.” He winked at me, looking more relaxed but I knew he was still stressing about something and it was big.

I sat his cappuccino in front of him and smiled, wanting to be supportive in the only way I knew how. That was my thing. I fed people.

He took a sip and smiled appreciatively, mouthing his thanks before returning to his conversation. “I’ll get everything lined up and call Clay to let him know what’s going on. Thanks for getting in touch so quickly. If I’d seen it on the news...” He groaned. “Let’s just say it was better to hear it from you.”

The news? What the hell was going on?

Spencer said his goodbyes a minute later and dropped his phone to the bar top, leaning his head into his hands with a frustrated grunt.

I reached across the bar and touched his arm, waiting for him to look up at me. “You know, they say unloading your troubles to the local bartender can be quite therapeutic.” I made a show of grabbing a bar towel and wiping the already-pristine surface between us. “So, what’s the trouble, buddy?”

“You never fail to make me smile, you know that?” He was only partially smiling as he watched me. “It’s one of the things I love most about you.” He picked up his cappuccino to take a sip, freezing with the cup midway to his lips. His eyes darted to mine, wide as saucers. “Uh... I meant...” He stumbled over his words, running his empty hand over his dark hair in panic.

I was fighting to pull in a breath.

Did he just...?

No.

He didn’t mean it like that.

It was just an expression, right?

He looked as though he wanted to snatch the words out of the air between us, which made me want to rescue him from himself.

“Well, I tend to make jokes when things are tense or uncomfortable, so I’m glad I could help. It looked like whatever Brant told you was decidedly bad news.” I gave him a look of anticipation, hoping he’d take the opportunity to jump topics.

The man was no dummy. He nodded gravely, breathing out so hard some of the foam from his drink ran down the side of the cup. He sipped it slowly, unaware. “You could say that. Turns out we won’t be starting that build next week. Or any week if the state and federal judicial system has anything to say about it.”

I finally sucked in that breath I was craving. Judicial system? What the hell? Was CBD in trouble?

He waved a hand at my shocked expression. “Let me specify, it’s not us they are after. It’s the property owner, maybe you’ve heard of him? Ethan Pruitt, business mogul with political aspirations.” I nodded quickly, familiar with the name, as was most of D.C. Pruitt was known as a clean business man, never one to tread on the little guy. Spencer’s jaw flexed tightly. “He was just indicted on a string of charges, including tax fraud and embezzlement. They’ve frozen his assets.”

I knew there was a reason I’d never liked the guy. There was something around his eyes, a dark, sneaky quality that made me think he was a crook. Guess I was right. “Which I take to mean he won’t be building that house or any other anytime soon.”

He shook his head, an aggravated look on his face. “I’m thinking that’s a safe bet. I’d like to throttle that little weasel.”

“So, what does this mean for you guys? Do you have another project you can start?”

“Unfortunately, no. Preparing to break ground always requires weeks of paperwork and inspections.” Spencer frustrated wasn’t something I was used to seeing. He always either reacted to a situation or didn’t, but he never hesitated, never seemed like he was anything less than in total control.

“What are you going to do?” I had a sinking feeling that I refused to acknowledge.

He picked up a toothpick and skewered a chunk of cheddar with a touch more force than necessary. “Brant thinks we need to ride it out, call the next client down the line and set things in motion to start their build early. In the meantime, he wants to give the office staff some paid vacation and maybe try to find something to tide the contractors over until we can get back to work. There are a lot of great construction firms who would jump at the chance to work with our regular crews for a few weeks.”

“And what about you?”

He looked up at me helplessly. “I’m betting I go insane from boredom. I mean, I have a few things I can work on but...” His hands scrubbed over his face. “Honestly, these last two weeks would have driven me nuts if it hadn’t been for you. I would have been kicking around the house, fixing shit that didn’t need repairs just to have something to do, and putting way too many miles on my car just to keep from going stir crazy.”