Chapter 6 First Jealousy #2
Ethan Blackwood certainly wasn't jealous.
The very idea bordered on absurd.
Still, as Oliver cleaned the kitchen long after the guests departed, he found himself remembering the look on Ethan's face when he entered the room.
A look he couldn't quite identify.
And for some reason, that bothered him far more than Daniel Hart's flirting ever had.
Possessive Instincts
Ethan knew he was being unreasonable.
The awareness arrived almost immediately.
Unfortunately, it didn't improve his mood.
The investor dinner ended shortly before eleven.
Most of the guests departed within minutes.
Board members returned to hotels.
Executives headed home.
Staff began their usual cleanup routine.
Everything proceeded exactly as it always did.
Except Ethan couldn't stop thinking about what he had witnessed inside the kitchen.
Daniel Hart.
Flirting.
Smiling.
Leaning casually against the counter while Oliver laughed at something he'd said.
The memory replayed with infuriating clarity.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Ethan stepped into his office and loosened his tie.
The movement did nothing to relieve the tension building beneath his skin.
This was ridiculous.
Daniel flirted with everyone.
The man practically treated charm like a second language.
He flirted with waitresses.
Receptionists.
Journalists.
Investors.
Probably random strangers waiting for coffee.
None of it meant anything.
Ethan knew that.
The problem wasn't Daniel.
The problem was his own reaction.
Because the moment he'd seen them together, something ugly had surfaced inside him.
Possessiveness.
Pure and simple.
The emotion disgusted him.
Oliver wasn't his.
Would never be his.
The chef worked for him.
That was the beginning and end of the relationship.
Anything beyond that existed solely inside Ethan's imagination.
Yet logic seemed strangely ineffective tonight.
A knock interrupted his thoughts.
Before Ethan could respond, Daniel entered.
Still smiling.
Still irritatingly relaxed.
The investor dropped into a chair across from the desk.
"Interesting evening."
Ethan immediately disliked the tone.
"Was it?"
Daniel leaned back comfortably.
"You tell me."
The smile remained.
Confident.
Knowing.
Dangerous.
For several moments, silence stretched between them.
Then Daniel laughed.
"Oh, that's exactly the face I was expecting."
Ethan folded his arms.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Of course you don't."
The investor's amusement only increased.
A lesser man might have felt intimidated.
Daniel clearly wasn't a lesser man.
Unfortunately.
"What do you want, Daniel?"
"Honestly?"
"No. Lie to me."
That earned a laugh.
A real one.
"Fine. Honestly? I wanted to know if your chef is single."
The words landed like a punch.
Ethan's expression remained carefully neutral.
Years of business negotiations made that easy.
The anger underneath proved slightly more challenging.
"What does that have to do with me?"
"Nothing."
Daniel paused.
"Unless it does."
Ethan stared.
The investor stared back.
Something passed silently between them.
Recognition.
Understanding.
Possibly challenge.
Daniel's smile slowly faded.
Not completely.
Just enough.
"Interesting."
Ethan hated that word.
Especially when other people used it.
"Get to the point."
The investor sighed.
"Fine."
For the first time all evening, Daniel sounded serious.
"I like him."
The statement should have been harmless.
Reasonable.
Perfectly acceptable.
Instead, Ethan felt his jaw tighten.
Daniel noticed.
Of course he noticed.
The man missed very little.
"He seems kind."
Ethan remained silent.
"Funny."
Still silent.
"Smart."
The list continued.
Every compliment somehow making things worse.
Finally Ethan interrupted.
"He's an employee."
Daniel blinked.
Then smiled again.
Slowly.
Dangerously.
"There it is."
Ethan immediately regretted speaking.
The reaction revealed too much.
Far too much.
Daniel leaned forward.
"You realize that's the first thing you've said all evening that sounds emotional."
The observation hit uncomfortably close to the truth.
Ethan stood.
The conversation needed to end.
Immediately.
Daniel apparently agreed.
The investor rose as well.
For a brief moment, neither man spoke.
Then Daniel surprised him.
The teasing disappeared entirely.
"I'm not trying to cause problems."
Ethan said nothing.
Daniel continued.
"I genuinely like him."
The honesty felt unexpected.
And somehow more threatening.
Because Ethan believed him.
That was the problem.
Daniel wasn't playing games.
He was interested.
Actually interested.
The realization twisted something unpleasant inside Ethan's chest.
The investor adjusted his jacket.
"Goodnight, Ethan."
A pause.
Then one final sentence.
"If you don't make a move, someone eventually will."
The office door closed behind him.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Dangerous.
Ethan stared at the empty doorway.
Then immediately hated himself for replaying the conversation.
Daniel wasn't wrong.
That was the irritating part.
Oliver was attractive.
Intelligent.
Funny.
Warm in a way most people weren't.
People would notice.
Of course they would.
Daniel had.
Others eventually would too.
The thought lingered.
Refusing to leave.
Refusing to be ignored.
Ethan moved toward the windows.
The city stretched endlessly below.
Normally, the view helped him think.
Tonight it only made him restless.
His phone vibrated.
A message from Michael.
Schedule updates.
Tomorrow's agenda.
Important information.
Ethan ignored it.
Again.
A second message arrived.
Then a third.
Still ignored.
His attention remained elsewhere.
Specifically, downstairs.
In the kitchen.
Where Oliver was probably finishing cleanup.
The realization felt absurd.
A billionaire CEO distracted by a chef.
A chef who worked for him.
A chef he absolutely should not be thinking about this much.
Yet here they were.
Ethan rubbed a hand across his face.
The problem wasn't attraction.
Attraction happened.
People noticed attractive people.
Simple.
Normal.
The problem was everything attached to it.
The conversations.
The laughter.
The anticipation.
The comfort.
At some point, Oliver had become part of Ethan's daily routine.
A part he genuinely enjoyed.
That distinction mattered.
Far more than he wanted it to.
Most people entering Ethan's life wanted something.
Access.
Money.
Influence.
Opportunity.
Oliver never did.
The chef asked questions because he was curious.
Listened because he cared.
Cooked because he loved it.
There were no hidden agendas.
No calculations.
No expectations.
The simplicity felt refreshing.
And addictive.
The word surfaced unexpectedly.
Addictive.
Ethan immediately disliked it.
Because it felt accurate.
He looked forward to dinner.
Looked forward to conversations.
Looked forward to seeing Oliver smile.
None of those things should matter.
Yet they did.
A memory surfaced.
Several nights earlier.
Oliver laughing over dinner.
Head tilted back slightly.
Eyes bright.
Completely unaware Ethan had been watching.
The image remained vivid.
Dangerously vivid.
Another memory followed.
The shepherd's pie.
The conversation about his mother.
The quiet understanding afterward.
No judgment.
No pity.
Just understanding.
Very few people managed that.
Another memory.
The photograph of Oliver's grandmother.
The way his entire face softened when talking about her.
The affection.
The warmth.
The love.
The accumulation suddenly felt overwhelming.
Too many moments.
Too many memories.
Too many reasons.
Ethan exhaled slowly.
Then something occurred to him.
A question he had been avoiding for weeks.
Why had Daniel's interest bothered him so much?
Not the polite answer.
Not the professional answer.
The truth.
The answer arrived immediately.
Painfully.
Because Daniel had something Ethan didn't.
Freedom.
The freedom to flirt openly.
The freedom to ask Oliver out.
The freedom to pursue whatever attraction existed.
Ethan couldn't.
Wouldn't.
Shouldn't.
The distinction didn't matter.
The result remained the same.
A sharp frustration settled inside him.
For years, self-control had been one of his greatest strengths.
Tonight it felt like a prison.
He turned away from the windows.
The office suddenly felt too small.
Too quiet.
Too full of thoughts he didn't want.
The truth remained unavoidable.
Daniel's flirting hadn't angered him because it was inappropriate.
Or distracting.
Or unprofessional.
It had angered him because Ethan wanted the same thing.
The realization landed with shocking force.
He wanted Oliver's attention.
His time.
His laughter.
His trust.
And if he allowed himself complete honesty...
He wanted far more than that.
Far more.
The admission echoed through the silence.
No witnesses.
No denials.
No excuses.
Just truth.
Ethan closed his eyes briefly.
When he opened them again, nothing had changed.
The city still glowed outside.
The office remained empty.
The responsibilities waiting for him remained exactly where he'd left them.
Yet something fundamental felt different.
A line had been crossed.
Internally.
Irreversibly.
Because for the first time, Ethan stopped pretending his feelings were merely curiosity.
Stopped pretending they were harmless.
Stopped pretending they would fade.
The attraction wasn't disappearing.
It was growing.
And beneath that attraction existed something potentially even more dangerous.
Affection.
Real affection.
For a man who worked in his home.
A man he saw every day.
A man he increasingly couldn't stop thinking about.
Ethan lowered himself into his chair.
The realization should have terrified him.
Perhaps it did.
A little.
Yet another emotion existed beneath the fear.
Hope.
Small.
Fragile.
Completely unwelcome.
But there all the same.
And that, more than anything else, confirmed how deeply he was already in trouble.
Because somewhere between London and New York, between comfort food and midnight conversations, Ethan Blackwood had stopped seeing Oliver Bennett as merely a talented chef.
He wanted him.
Not for his cooking.
Not for his service.
Not for his professional skills.
He wanted him for reasons far more personal.
Far more complicated.
And infinitely more dangerous.
· ? ·