That One Time by Aja Foxx

Chapter Twelve

~ Frank ~

 

"I found him."

"Who?" Martino asked.

"Henry," I replied as I watched his cab drive away. "I found Henry."

"Where?"

"He was in the conference room when I went for my meeting this morning."

"He's in Seattle?" Sheer surprised rang through Martino's voice.

"Looks like it."

"Guess that's why we never found him. We were looking on the East Coast."

"I guess." I clenched my jaw to keep from growling in frustration. We should have searched for him on the West Coast. It was stupid not to. I'd just never thought he'd go that far to get away from me. "Did you know he came to see me right before he left? Because of that stupid restraining order you took out, he was arrested and spent ten days behind bars."

Martino's sigh was heavy. "Frank, I've apologized for that. I thought I was doing the right thing at the time. I didn't want him to hurt you anymore than he already had."

My nostrils flared as I tried to contain my rage. "Ten days, Martino."

"What do you want me to say, Frank?"

"I want you to help me find him and then you can apologize to him in person."

"Yeah, okay. I'll get our private investigator on it and then fly out there in the morning. Do you need me to do anything else?"

"No, I'll handle it."

"Are you going to try and talk with him, Frank?"

"Yes." I had to talk to him. It had been five years, but I still wanted to know why he had done what he did. Why had he slept with Ryan? Why had he stopped loving me? Why had he stabbed me in the back?

I knew I should just let it go, but I couldn't. The questions gnawed at me, keeping me up at night. It had soured me for any other relationship. I'd met a few people over the last five years, but none of them held my interest more than a couple of days or weeks.

None of them were Henry.

"I wish you luck with that," Martino said.

I didn't need luck. I had sheer determination. I wasn't going to leave Seattle until I talked to Henry and I didn't care if that took another five years.

"I need to go, Martino. I want to talk to Mr. Simpson see what he knows about Henry. Hopefully, it will give me a lead as to where he is." And where I could find him.

"Okay, I'll call you if I get an update. If I don't hear anything, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Don't tell Mama and Papa that I found Henry." They had never supported my continued search for the man they thought was a gold digger. "Just tell them you are coming out here to help me close the deal on this company."

"I got you," Martino explained. "Mum’s the word."

I rolled my eyes and hung up. My brother could be quite ridiculous on occasion, but I knew he meant well. Even when he was doing something as stupid as taking out a restraining order against Henry, I knew he was doing it because he cared.

Still didn't mean I didn't want to strangle him.

I slid my phone back into my pocket and headed back into the building. I tapped my foot impatiently as I waited for the elevator take me up to the tenth floor. I had to work quickly. As freaked out as Henry had seemed, I knew he'd run at the first chance. I had to find him before he got that chance.

When the elevator doors slid open, I walked out and headed back for the conference room. Luckily, Mr. Simpson was still there, along with my assistant. "Marianne," I said in a calmer tone than I was feeling, "I'd like the room, please."

I knew better than to raise my voice to her again. I'd learned that lesson well. After I'd snapped at her one too many times, she had taken a leave of absence and threatened to quit if I didn't get my head out of my ass.

My business world had almost fallen apart two weeks after she left. After trying to hold things together—and failing miserably—I'd called her, offered her a promotion to my assistant with double the pay, and my promise to never raise my voice to her again. So far, I'd been able to keep that promise.

Today was stretching that promise very thin.

Marianne must have seen the look in my eyes because she immediately walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. I pinned my eyes on Mr. Simpson. "Tell me about Henry Warner."

"Um, well, he was recommended to me by a friend. Although he hasn't been in the business very long, he has built up a reputation for being an expert forensic accountant. He's meticulous, accurate, and turns his projects in on time."

"Who is this friend?"

"Bob Summers," Mr. Simpson replied. "Mr. Warner was the forensic accountant when Bob bought his yacht building company. He was actually able to find some inaccuracies that netted Bob over a million dollars in equity before he even signed on the dotted line."

That was pretty good.

"What are his credentials?"

"He has a degree in accounting from Washington State University and masters in finance from Southern New Hampshire University."

"No business degree?"

Mr. Simpson glanced down at the papers in front of him before shaking his head. "No, his resume only lists his accounting degrees." When he glanced up, there was a perplexed frown on the man's face. "Am I to take it you know Mr. Warner?"

"I do," I admitted, "but we lost contact a few years ago. I've been trying to find him ever since." I walked over to Mr. Simpson and held out my hand. "Can I see his resume?"

After the man handed it over, I read over it. It was actually a pretty impressive resume for someone who had only been in the business for a few years. Hell, it was an impressive resume for someone who had been in the business for a few decades. Henry had done well for himself.

"Can I take this?"

"Of course."

"We'll need to postpone our meeting until I have a chance to speak to Mr. Warner."

"Do you want me to find another accountant?"

"No, Henry will continue on the case. I just need to speak to him first."

"What about the restraining order he mentioned? That could be a problem."

"That restraining order hasn't been in effect since a few weeks after it was issued."

I could see that Mr. Simpson was dying to know why there had even been a restraining order, but I wasn't about to dredge up my life for a complete stranger. "It was a misunderstanding. My brother issued the restraining order. As soon as I found about it, I had it dropped. That's why I need to talk to Henry."

"I take it Mr. Warner was one of your employees?"

"No." I swallowed tightly before replying, "He was my fiancé."

Mr. Simpson didn't say anything, but his eyes rounded.

I carefully folded up Henry's resume and stuck it into the inside pocket of my suit. "I'll be in touch about rescheduling our meeting just as soon as I've had a chance to speak to Henry."

"Yes, of course." Mr. Simpson stood.

When he held out his hand, I shook it and then started for the door. "I'll be in town until this issue is resolved. My brother is flying in tomorrow to help me out so you might be meeting with him instead of me. Depends on how things go with Henry."

"I understand, sir."

I doubted it.

I opened the door and glanced around for my assistant. She was sitting in a chair in the hallway. "Marianne."

She stood as I walked toward her. I kept walking and she fell in beside me. "Is the meeting canceled, sir?"

"No, just postponed, although you might be taking it with Martino. I have some other business to take care of so he's flying out in the morning."

The elevator doors slid open and I stepped inside.

Marianne stepped in beside me. "Anything I can help with?"

"No, this is something I have to do on my own."

 

* * * *

 

I glanced at the quaint little stucco and brick cottage I was parked in front of. It had taken me two days, but I now knew where Henry lived, where he worked, where he shopped for his groceries, everything.

Well, everything for the last two years anyway. There was a three year gap in information where the only trace of Henry had been online while he was getting his degree from Southern New Hampshire University. I had no idea where he'd lived at the time because the P.O. Box he had listed for the school was back on the East Coast.

I took a moment to gather myself and figure out what I was going to say to Henry. I had to get him to listen to me. I had so many questions I needed to ask, so many answers I wanted, not to mention one very huge apology for what had happened to him due to that stupid restraining order.

I still had a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that Henry had spent ten days in jail. Granted, it wasn't a huge amount of time, but even a single day was too much. It never should have happened.

Once I felt I could handle my anger and keep calm, I climbed out of the car and made my way to the front door. I drew in a calming breath and then knocked. My eyebrows shot up to my hairline when the door was opened my a little brown haired boy.

"Hello," I said. "Is your mommy or daddy home?"

"My daddy is home," the kid said. "I don't have a mommy."

A niggle of apprehension exploded inside my gut. "You don't have a mommy?"

Brown hair flopped around the kid’s head as he shook it.

"Is your daddy here?"

More hair flopping.

"Can I speak to him?"

"Arty, what have I told you about answering the door?" someone shouted from the back of the house. A moment later, a brown haired man walked around the corner.

I inhaled sharply when I recognized him. "Ryan."

"Frank." Anger lit in Ryan's eyes before they fell to the kid. "Arty, go play in your room and take your cousin with you. Stay there until I tell you that you can come out."

The kid ran off and Ryan faced me again. "What do you want?"

"I want to talk to Henry."

"Haven't you hurt him enough?"

I snorted rudely. "You ask me that when you're standing here in his house?"

"Our house," Ryan replied. "Henry and I live here together."

Pain instantly squeezed my heart. "You both live here?"

"We do."

When Ryan crossed his arms, I caught the flash of gold on his hand. A gold wedding band. I thought I might pass out. "Are you married?"

It was my worst nightmare come to life.

"We—"

"Go keep an eye on the children, Ryan," Henry said as he stepped around the corner. "I'll take care of this."

Ryan glared at me for a moment before turning and walking to Henry's side. "You don't have to talk to him. He can't make you."

Henry patted Ryan's arm. "It's okay. Go sit with the kids."

I could see that Ryan didn't want to. He shot me a narrow-eyed look before storming out of the room. "Thank you for agreeing to talk to me, Henry. I—"

"What did I do?" Henry asked. "What did I do to make you turn on me?"

My jaw dropped.

"You know damn well what you did."

"No, I really don't."

I waved my hand toward the hallway where Ryan had disappeared. "You were fucking Ryan while we were engaged."

There were a hundred different reactions I expected out of Henry. Laughter was not one of them.

"No, seriously," Henry said. "What did I do?"

I just stared at him until he slowly stopped laughing and his eyes began to widen.

"You're serious," Henry said. "You think I slept with Ryan."

"I know you did. I've seen the evidence."

Henry cocked his head to one side. "What evidence?"

"Damning evidence that you can't refute. Intimate pictures of the two of you together, texts between you."

Henry stared again, almost as if he was going over everything I'd said, and then he slowly nodded his head. "Okay, I guess now I know." He pointed toward the front door. "You can go now."

"Not until I have some answers."

"I don't owe you anything," Henry spat out. "I owe you less than nothing."

"I want to know why, Henry." That was the burning question I couldn't get out of my head. "I offered you everything and you betrayed me."

"I am not the one who did the betraying here, Frank."

"Well, I certainly didn't sleep with Ryan."

Henry smirked as he crossed his arms. "I don't believe you."

"You think I slept with Ryan?"

"Ryan, Stewart, whoever." Henry shrugged. "You seemed to be pretty good at lying. Why am I supposed to believe you were faithful, too?"

Wait, how did this get to be about me?

"I did not sleep with Ryan," I snapped.

"Neither did I."

"You—" I cocked my head when I spotted his gold wedding band on Henry's ring finger. "You're married?"

Henry glanced down before rubbing his thumb over the band. "Yes."

"To who?"

Henry smirked. "Ryan, of course."

I clenched my hands. Henry was lying. I just couldn't figure out why he was lying. "Tell me the truth, Henry."

Henry's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't know the truth if it came up and bit you on the ass."

"Fine, then you tell me. What is the truth?"

"I didn't sleep with Ryan," Henry said. "I haven't slept with anyone since the moment I agreed to go out with you."

"I don't believe you."

"Yeah, whatever." Henry walked to the door and pulled it open. "You can go now."

When I turned to face him, I was brought up short by the tears in Henry's eyes. "Do you love him?"

"Who?"

Who were we talking about here?

"Ryan, of course."

Henry looked me straight in the face as he replied, "Yes, I love Ryan."

I could see the truth in Henry's eyes. He really did love Ryan. Whatever...hope maybe...that I'd been holding onto died. "Okay. Henry."

I started for the door just as a speeding little head of brown hair came flying down the hallway, past me, and barreled into Henry's arms.

"Daddy, Daddy, I hurt my finger."

Daddy?