Page 71 of Dead Serious with Benefits
I stepped forward, tentatively setting a hand over his. “I know there isn’t a thing I can do to help, but?—”
“Would you believe just being here and willing to help is enough?”
“Should I?”
His eyes drifted up toward the ceiling. “Growing up, I was taught to be self-sufficient, and when I relied on my family, it was to be done in a particular way, on my mother’s terms. That taught me to be even more self-sufficient. If I wanted something done, it was better to take care of it myself, and if not, pay someone else to do it. Everything has a cost, but a dollar cost is far less than whatever cost my mother attached to her help. So yes, having you here, offering to help simply because you want to and not because you can stick a price tag on it afterward, is more help than I can ever explain to you.”
If there was a way to silence me quickly, he had found it. Until then, it had never occurred to me that he had almost no one in his corner to back him up. If it weren’t for me right now, he would have been dealing with this alone, as he had apparently been dealing with almost everything in his life.
If it hadn’t been for me, he probably would have been here when the fire broke out. Or maybe...maybe it wouldn’t have happened at all. It was the third incident in less than a week where something had been primed to kill him, and who else would be to blame? He had made his feelings on the subject known, but that didn’t mean the matter rested.
“The fire,” he murmured as the elevator car stopped.
“I’m glad you weren’t in,” I said with a small smile, trying to push away my morose thoughts before they took over.
“No, not that one,” he said, opening his eyes and looking at me curiously. “The pan fire.”
“What about it?”
“I don’t...it shouldn’t matter, it shouldn’t even stand out. But I remembered you saying something about how the universe will take all that death curse shit from other people and put it on you.”
I paused as the doors slid open with a soft noise. “Oh...as if the pan fire that got me was somehow the cost of you not being there for the fire in your penthouse?”
“It’s the logic you would use from what I’ve seen,” he said with a shrug.
“I...okay, you have me there,” I said as we entered the lobby. The front desk security guard and building manager rushed forward immediately.
“God, how bad is it?” David asked nervously.
“I won’t be hosting too many parties anytime soon, that’s for sure...or sleeping there for that matter,” Ward said with a wince.
“I’m just glad you weren’t in there,” David said with a frown.
“You and I both,” Ward said, gesturing toward the manager to calm him down. “Calm yourself, Winslow, I don’t know any more about what happened than you do, trust me. The officers will have to give us direction because at this point, they’re in charge of my place while they’re running their investigation.”
Winslow deflated. “You should also know that a few members of the press are outside. And your drive is waiting as well.”
“What the hell is Will doing here?” Ward asked with a huff. “He’s supposed to be resting.”
“Apparently, he heard about the fire and rushed over here. I had to assure him multiple times that you were safe and had not been in your penthouse,” David said with a wry snort. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he cared.”
“There’s a refreshing thought,” Ward said, checking his phone. “Alright, so here’s the plan. Winslow, you handle things as you see fit. If you need me, you have my number. I’ll deal withthe press on my way out. Arlo, you can either come with me and we can figure out your car later, or you can meet me later, either works for me. I’m sure you have better things to do today.”
I snorted derisively after the little speech he had given me in the elevator, as if I would just go about my day and let him deal with this. “I’m fine with you.”
He smiled a little at that. “Alright, well, I hope you’re ready for the shit show that is to come.”
“I think I’ll manage,” I said as he walked toward the front door.
Several people were waiting outside, some clutching small microphones, while others held out their phones as they shouted questions. All that was missing were camera flashes and large microphones all over the place, with questions screamed and shouted over each other to complete the picture in my head. Tension wrapped around me, and I stepped back slightly as Ward stepped forward.
“Alright, alright,” he said with a calming hand gesture. “I understand there are a few questions, and I also understand that none of you would give a lick about this handsome face if it weren’t for my mother’s name.” That earned him a few chuckles, and people began to quiet down. “Now, I’m going to start with the basics. Yes, there was a fire. No, I do not know how it happened. That’s what the fire chief and officers are trying to determine as we speak. I was not home this morning, so I was not injured, and to my knowledge, there was no one in my home either.”
I was impressed with how well he summarized the situation, doing it in a way that left no openings for inconsistencies or for him to be quoted later as having misspoken or lied. I didn’t know how he managed it; just the sight of all the people crowding around and demanding answers made me dizzy. It had beenages since I’d had to deal with an overly eager mob of the press, and I wasn’t all that eager to see more of them if I could help it.
“I’ll answer a few questions, but I’m sure you can understand that I have several things that need to be dealt with today,” he said and pointed. “Yes?”
“Do you or the police have any idea who could have caused this?”
