Benjamin Kempball: The Way To A Banker’s Heart

Chapter 4: Violet

f**k, f**k, f**k, f**k!

Of all the times Sam could have chosen to walk through that door, it had to be at this very moment. It was as if karma had decided to teach me a lesson, slapping me with the reminder that a gorgeous, successful man like Benjamin couldn’t possibly be interested in someone like me.

He had actually asked me out. The ruggedly handsome Mr. Business-Model-Man, with his intense blue eyes and that faint scruff along his jawline, had asked me out to dinner. For a brief, intoxicating moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like—sitting across from him at some candlelit table, laughing at his dry wit, maybe even reaching out to touch his hand. His smoldering gaze had left no doubt in my mind that he genuinely wanted to take me out.

But reality had come crashing down just as quickly. A little voice in my head reminded me that he didn’t know everything about me, about my life. If he knew—if he really knew—there was no way he’d still want me.

As Sam settled at a table with his friends, I couldn’t help but notice the familiarity of his grin, wide and easy, stretching across his face as he sauntered over to the bar. His dark hair was a mess, as always, falling in an unruly halo around his face. Those chocolate-colored eyes of his shone with amusement, and the dimples peeking through the faint stubble on his cheeks only deepened when he smiled at me. Sam was undeniably handsome—swoon-worthy, even—but standing there in Benjamin’s shadow, he seemed like a cheap knockoff of the real thing.

“Hey, Vi,” he greeted, his voice casual as he leaned his forearms on the counter like he always did. “How’s it going?”

For all my hormonal teenage years, I had crushed so hard on him, giggling and blushing every time he came home with Jacob. My brother and Sam had been best friends forever, and I was the lovesick fourteen-year-old daydreaming about the delicious basketball player who was four years older than me.

But I blamed all my audiobooks for that. The brother’s best friend trope was one of my favorites at the time, and I wished one of those stories could have been Sam's and mine instead. I dreamed that one day he would open his eyes and see me for the woman I was, but that never seemed to happen.

“Oh, you know, just hanging in there,” I replied, doing my best to sound casual.

“Well, that’s great, huh,” he said with a wink, running a hand through his hair in that signature move I had thought was irresistible. “How about Rose?” he asked, and my heart stopped cold.

Fuck, f**k, f**k.

I hadn’t wanted Benjamin to know—not like this, not so soon. For once, I had felt normal, like just another woman having a playful back-and-forth with a ridiculously attractive man. For once, my life hadn’t felt like the chaotic mess it usually was.

“She’s good,” I answered, keeping my tone as even as I could manage. “Mum has her for the evening.”

Sam frowned at that, his dark brows pulling together in concern. “I thought Rich was coming to get her tonight?”

The mention of Richard’s name felt like a punch to the gut. Of course, Sam would bring him up. My support system—my mum, my brother Jacob, and yes, even Sam—had always been there to help me pick up the pieces after Rich left, but their unwavering loyalty meant his absence was never far from anyone’s mind.

“Well, you know Rich,” I said with a shrug, trying to play it off like it didn’t bother me.

Back in high school, I thought I had won the lottery when Rich noticed me. He was the quintessential bad boy—the kind of guy who smoked behind the bleachers and snuck beers onto school grounds. He had a motorcycle, for God’s sake, and an attitude to match. His dark curls were a perpetual mess, and tattoos snaked along his arms, adding to the allure. He was cocky, reckless, and dangerously attractive. Every girl wanted him, and somehow, I had been the one to catch his attention.

I still remembered the way he’d first looked at me in the hallway, his stormy gray eyes raking over me with a smirk that could melt steel. Before I knew it, I was Richard Mills’ girlfriend, the girl riding on the back of his bike, the one he kissed unapologetically in front of everyone. He made me feel special, like I was the only person who mattered in his world.

When I gave him my virginity, I did it with no regrets. Rich had been sweet, gentle even, making me feel like the luckiest girl alive. Afterward, he didn’t grow cold or distant like the cautionary tales my friends whispered about. Instead, he became even more devoted, talking about our future—college, marriage, kids, the whole dream.

But then came the broken condom. The dream unraveled fast when I found out I was pregnant. I gave birth to Rose just nine weeks after my eighteenth birthday, barely out of high school with mediocre grades and no real plan for my future. Rich had promised to take care of us, swearing up and down that he’d step up and be the man I needed him to be.

Rich made a lot of promises.

"Of all the guys out there," Sam fumed, his voice low but laced with frustration. If there was one person Sam didn’t like on this earth, it was Richard Mills. He had made that abundantly clear from the moment Rich had walked out of our lives, leaving me to raise Rose alone. Sam and Jacob had even hunted him down once, but I never wanted Rich to feel tied down to me, to feel like he had to be someone he wasn’t. That wasn’t the life I wanted for Rose or me.

“Why can’t that bastard just pick up his kid?” Sam’s irritation was palpable, his hand gripping the counter as he leaned closer.

Benjamin, seated a few stools away, almost choked on his beer, drawing both Sam's and my attention. He raised a hand, signaling that he was fine, though the subtle hitch in his movements betrayed him. It was obvious he had already pieced everything together. No more single-girl vibes—now I was squarely in single-mom territory. Trust me, those were two very different worlds, and I could practically feel the shift in Benjamin’s demeanor.

“Your mum has her until tomorrow then?” Sam asked, his tone softening as he met my gaze with a small smile.

“She does,” I replied with a nod. “I have to pick her up early tomorrow, but it’ll be okay.” The thought of spending time with my amazing girl never failed to bring a smile to my face.

“You want me to stay until closing?” he offered. “I can help you out and then walk you home.”

I shook my head but gave him the warm smile I always reserved for Sam. He had been my rock for so long, and even though his presence wasn’t what I craved tonight, I still appreciated his effort.

“Nah, it’s okay,” I chuckled. “I don’t mind walking home alone. Besides, I get my bed all to myself tonight, and that sounds amazing.”

He chuckled with me. “Okay then, how about this. I come and pick her up for a few hours on Sunday-”

“Hey! Assface! Where are our beers?!” One of his friends shouted from down at the table, making the others snicker at him.

“Two f*****g seconds!” Sam yelled back, only turning slightly back at them. “Anyhow,” he said, returning to our conversation as if we hadn’t been interrupted, “how about I pick her up Sunday and take her to the playground for a few hours? You get a few hours for yourself, and I get to spend time with my favorite girl,” he grinned.

“Seriously?” I asked, my eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “That sounds amazing, Sam,” I admitted, my hand briefly resting on his forearm. “I could really use a haircut or something.”

Heat crept into my cheeks at the admission, but Sam’s grin only widened. His dark eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and warmth.

His eyes shone towards me. “No worries, I’ll pick her up, and then we could bring home some pizza or something, and then eat together the three of us.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I said, smiling while looking down.

“Please, you know I love feeding you two,” he grinned.

“Sounds great,” I agreed, my voice soft but genuine.

Sam shot me another one of those winks that, once upon a time, would have set my heart racing. But tonight, it didn’t have the same effect. I was too distracted by the man sitting quietly just a few feet away, watching us with an intensity that made my pulse quicken in an entirely different way.

“Better give me five beers, Vi,” Sam said, breaking my reverie.

“Coming right up,” I replied, turning to grab the bottles from the fridge. The chill of the glass against my fingers was grounding, a welcome distraction from the whirlwind of emotions coursing through me.

As I set the beers on the counter, I heard Sam speak up again. “Hey, I haven’t seen you here before.”

Turning back, I caught him extending a hand toward Benjamin. “I’m Sam.”

“Benjamin,” came the reply, his voice steady but firm as he accepted the handshake. The tension between them was palpable, their grips lingering just a touch too long.

“You’re welcome to join us,” Sam offered, his grin wide but his eyes glinting with something far less friendly.

“Thank you,” Benjamin replied, his tone polite but distant. “But I’m leaving after this one.” He gestured toward his nearly empty beer bottle.

“There you go,” I said, sliding the beers across the counter toward Sam, eager to diffuse the brewing tension.

“Thanks, Vi,” Sam said with a wink before turning back to his table, the bottles clinking together as he carried them away.

I let out a slow breath, only to feel Benjamin’s gaze on me once more. His blue eyes swept over me—not in a way that felt invasive, but almost as though he were trying to read me, to understand the complexities I had tried so hard to hide.

“Complicated, huh?” he asked, one brow arching slightly as a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

The heat of embarrassment rose to my cheeks as I looked down. I should have told him. I should have been upfront about being a single mother, about the reality of my life. But now, it felt too late, and the weight of that omission pressed heavily on my chest.

“Only slightly,” I managed to say, forcing a small smile as I met his gaze.

He nodded thoughtfully, his eyes lingering on mine for a moment before turning back to his beer. With deliberate precision, he lifted the bottle, finishing the last of its contents in a single, smooth motion.

Setting the empty bottle on the counter, he rose from the stool, his movements unhurried but commanding. I tilted my head back to meet his gaze, feeling suddenly small under the intensity of his presence.

“My offer still stands,” he said, pulling his wallet from the pocket of his suit jacket. His smirk returned, softer this time but no less disarming. “We are business partners, after all.”

He placed a bill on the counter before slipping his jacket back on, the tailored fabric hugging his broad shoulders perfectly.

“Keep the rest,” he said with a nod, his smile lingering as he turned toward the door. “I’ll see you around, Violet.”

I glanced down at the counter, my breath catching when I saw the crisp hundred-dollar bill lying there. “Wait,” I called after him, my voice wavering as I snatched up the bill and hurried toward him.

“This is way too much,” I insisted, holding the money out to him.

He shrugged, his lips quirking into that infuriatingly charming smile. “Like I said, keep the rest. I heard you need a haircut.”

And with that, Benjamin—Mr. Rugged Model, Mr. Businessman, my business partner—strode out the door, leaving me standing there, heart pounding and head spinning.