“Good. Because I don’t deserve it.”
She reached out and took a sip of her wine. “So that’s how you’re going to play it, huh? Poor me, I’m such a bad guy and I don’t—”
“I don’t drink because Jake’s dad was an abusive asshole. He used to come home drunk and beat the shit of my mother. Seeing someone drunk…it disgusts me. Sometimes just the smell of beer makes my stomach turn.”
She set down her glass. “At first, I thought maybe you were an alcoholic, but then I began to wonder if it was something like that.” She shuddered. “I’m sorry. Your poor mom.”
“Jake’s dad wasn’t the only one who used to knock my mom around.”
She let out a sigh. “I get it, Ben. You had a shitty childhood.”
“Not really. I had a great mom, a roof over my head and I can honestly say I never went to bed hungry. So, not the greatest childhood, but certainly not the worst.”
“I Googled you and Tiffany last night.”
“Jenna, I—”
“I’m impressed. No, really. You’re like this super power couple.” She reached over to the coffee table and picked up a pile of papers. “I copied all this off the Internet. For my scrapbook.” She cleared her throat and began to read. “Ben Harrison and Tiffany McAdams, co-founders of the New Life Foundation, a non-profit that helps survivors of domestic violence break the cycle of abuse through empowerment, education and…” She shrugged. “I’m sure you know the rest.”
“I should have told you about that.”
“How many half-way houses have the two of you built?”
“We’re on our seventh.”
“No wonder you need a personal assistant with an M.B.A. Gavin not only essentially runs Roar, he also helps with the foundation, right?” She didn’t sound neutral anymore.
“Can I explain here?”
“By all means.”
“It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you about the foundation, it’s that—”
“What? It was too personal? Or, wait, it just never came up in the conversation.”
“I don’t talk about it to anyone, Jenna. It’s just something I do. Not because I want a pat on the back or accolades or anything.”
“I didn’t think I was just anyone.”
“You’re not just anyone.” Fuck. None of this was coming out right.
“I took Tiffany’s case when no other attorney in Miami would touch it because I felt sorry for her. She got married at seventeen to a guy who used to beat the living crap out of her. She was lucky, though, she was able to get away. Arthur Clendenin was a good guy. He gave her back some of her self-esteem and, yeah, I saw a little of my mom in her, too. We started the foundation with some of the money that she won in the settlement.”
Jenna nodded. “I read all that last night. So tell me something I don’t know.”
“The thing you won’t read, because it isn’t public, is my mom’s story. She helps with the foundation behind the scenes, but she doesn’t feel comfortable being in the spotlight.”
She took a slow sip of her wine. “I get it. I really do. But why did you lie to me yesterday? You told me you didn’t need help packing up your mom, but clearly, you did. Tiffany said she’d been there almost all day helping, and obviously, so were you. What? Are you ashamed of where you grew up? I thought we were way past that.”
“It’s stupid, I know it is, but it’s like, that’s one part of my life and you’re another part—the part that’s good. And I didn’t want to mix them up.”
“And that’s it?”
“What else do you want me to say? I know it was wrong. I’m sorry, okay? It won’t happen again.”
“Do you know how I felt yesterday when I came to your house and Tiffany opened the door? Why didn’t you tell me she was here in town?”
“I didn’t think it was important.”