Chapter 9
I’m sitting at my desk, buried under a mountain of paperwork, when a knock at the door interrupts my concentration.
I glance up, expecting to see one of my employees, but instead, the door swings open to reveal Amy, a mischievous grin on her face.
“Surprise!” she exclaims, holding up a box filled with colorful balloons and a tray of assorted cupcakes and treats. One of the staff is carrying a cake behind her.
“You can place that on the desk,” Amy instructs him. And it’s when he does that I see what’s written on the cake—Happy Birthday, Ethan.
My eyes widen in shock as I take in the sight before me. I had completely forgotten that today was my birthday. I was too preoccupied with work even to realize the date.
Yeah, I’m not always excited about celebrating my birthdays. I used to when I was a kid, but as I get older, I don’t find it to be so fun anymore.
“Amy, what are you doing here?” I ask, unable to suppress the smile that tugs at the corners of my lips.
She saunters into the room, setting the balloons on my desk before depositing the tray of goodies in front of me. “I couldn’t let my big brother’s birthday go unnoticed, now could I?” she says, flashing me a grin.
“What did you do?” I shake my head in disbelief, overwhelmed by her thoughtfulness. “You didn’t have to do all this, Amy,” I say, my voice filled with gratitude. Even though I’m not keen on celebrating my birthday, I’m grateful that she still thought of doing this.
She waves off my protestations with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Nonsense, you deserve to be celebrated. Plus, I figured you could use a break from all that work,” she adds, nodding toward the pile of papers strewn across my desk.
I can’t help but laugh at her bluntness. “You might have a point there,” I admit, reaching for one of the cupcakes on the tray. “But still, this is more than I ever expected.”
Amy grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, you know me. I always go big for birthdays.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t hide the fondness in my voice as I say, “Yeah, you definitely know how to make an entrance.”
She takes a knife from the tray and cuts out slices of cake for us. “I barely see you these days,” she says as she hands me a piece on a paper plate.
“You saw me here on Friday, remember?” I take a bite of the cake, placing it back on the plate. I wipe the corner of my mouth with the napkin she gives me.
“Yeah, but you never came back to the penthouse, and you haven’t been back since then.”
“I’ve been crashing at the hotel.” I take another bite. My intestines are going to make me pay for consuming so much sugar, but I can’t make Amy feel bad by not having a taste of the treats.
“Is everything okay on your end?” she asks, giving me a serious look.
“I mean... yes, why do you ask?”
She shrugs. “Dunno, you just seem like you have a lot on your mind.”
“It’s work. Why are you complaining? I thought you liked having my house all to yourself?”
She doesn’t respond as she continues to give me a strange look. “What?”
“Are you sure work is the reason you’re spending the night here at the hotel?”
“What are you driving at?”
“Are you and Lysa back together?”
I almost choke on my cake. I quickly reach for a bottle of water on my desk and take a gulp.
Amy doesn’t say sorry; she just gives me a blank stare, waiting for my response. “No, we are not back together. Why would you even ask me that?” I push my half-eaten dessert away, suddenly losing my appetite.
“I just wanted to know. Well, it’s a good thing that she still repulses you. Which makes me wonder why you still allow her to work here.”
Raking my fingers through my hair, I hiss under my breath. Amy is right—I should have fired Lysa a long time ago, especially with the way she has been nonchalant about work.
But every time I want to do that, I remember her sick dad and the mountain of medical bills that her family has to cover, and I decide to let her stay.
Her father, even though he wasn’t much of a businessman, had given me a few pro tips after Dad died, and I took over the business at the tender age of twenty-one.
“It’s not as easy as it sounds, Amy, you know how things are for her family right now…”
“I know that,” Amy cuts in. “But you do know you don”t have to be her savior, correct?”
I lean back in my chair, giving what she just said a serious thought. “Yeah, I think you’re right about that.”
“You know I’m always right,” she says with a wink.
“Don’t push it,” I warn, and she laughs.
“You know, Ethan,” she begins, her tone serious. “I’m really glad you broke up with Lysa.”
“Yeah, you never fail to tell me that,” I say with a roll of my eyes.
“But seriously, I mean, she never seemed like a good fit for you. You deserve someone who appreciates you for who you are, not someone who cheats on you.”
“Yeah, I know that, and that’s why I broke up with her, remember?”
“I know, I know,” she nods. “Guess who’s back in town?” She’s now smiling.
“Mom,” I respond, already knowing. I saw her message last night telling me she’s back in New York. I missed her call this morning and haven’t called her back.
Let’s just say that every time my mom and I have a conversation, it always comes back to the fact that I’m yet to be married. At thirty-one, no scratch that, I just turned thirty-two, I should be married. She and Dad had already tied the knot at my age so what was I waiting for.
Amy nods eagerly, her grin widening. “Yep, Mom. And she’s inviting us over tonight.”
I don’t look forward to that because with Mom, it’s always the same routine—she starts hounding me about settling down and bringing a wife home.
“I think it’s for your birthday. She wants us to have a celebratory dinner.”
“Thanks for letting me know; I”m very excited about it,” I say with fake enthusiasm.
“Well, I should get going and let you get back to work,” Amy gets on her feet as she speaks.
“You’re going with these, right?” I point at the treats that are on my desk, and she gives me an incredulous look.
“Of course not. You should call some of your staff and have them share it among themselves.”
As she heads to the door, she pauses in her tracks and turns to look at me. “I couldn’t help noticing the new girl at the reception.”
“Who are you talking about?” I ask, even though I already have a faint idea of who she’s referring to.
“I think the name on her tag reads ‘Jessica.’”
I raise my head to look at her. “Yes, what about her?”
Amy gives me a knowing smile as she walks back into the room. “Is there something that I should know about?”
“What?”
She shakes her head, smiling. “She’s beautiful.”
An involuntary smile curls up my lips. “Yeah, Jessy is…” I pause as I immediately realize my slip.
“Hmm, Jessy, huh…” Without saying another word, Amy turns and walks out of my office, still smiling.
Blowing out a harsh breath, I reach for my phone and call one of the staff to come take the cakes and treats and share amongst themselves.
I nod to myself as I watch Amy leave, feeling a mix of gratitude for her surprise and annoyance at her probing questions. But her mention of Jessica…
I can’t deny the flutter of excitement that flares up in my chest at the thought of her. There’s something about her presence that draws me in, something I can’t quite put my finger on.
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I turn my attention back to the pile of work on my desk.
Later that evening,as I pull up to the familiar house where I grew up, a wave of nostalgia washes over me.
The white picket fence, the neatly trimmed lawn, and the cheerful flowers blooming in the garden all bring back memories of a simpler time.
Taking a deep breath, I push open the door and step inside.
Immediately, I’m enveloped in the comforting embrace of home. The air is filled with the delicious aroma of my mom’s cooking, a tantalizing blend of spices and herbs that instantly makes my mouth water.
My mom is bustling in the dining room, setting the table with plates and silverware as she gives orders to her home staff.
“Could you at least help or get out of my way?” she says to Amy, who’s already seated at the table and busy on her phone.
“Hey, Mom,” I say, my voice full of affection as I wrap her in a hug. She squeezes me tightly, her arms warm and welcoming around me.
“Ethan, darling, happy birthday!” she exclaims, her eyes shining with pride. “I hope you’re hungry, because I’ve made all your favorite dishes.”
“Of course,” I say with a grin.
As we dig into the delicious spread she has prepared, conversation flows easily around the table.
But it doesn’t take long for the exchange to take a familiar turn as my mom leans in, her eyes fixed on me with a mixture of love and determination.
“So, Ethan,” she begins, her tone casual but her eyes betraying her true intent. “Have you met anyone special lately?”
I suppress a sigh, knowing exactly where this is headed. “Mom, we’ve been over this,” I say, trying to keep my tone light despite the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “I’m focused on my career right now. There’s plenty of time for all that other stuff later.”
My mom’s expression softens, her gaze filled with concern. “I know, sweetheart, but I just want to make sure you’re happy. You know how much I want to see you settle down and start your own family.”
I reach across the table, taking her hand in mine. “I appreciate that, Mom, I really do. And I promise you, when the time is right, I’ll find someone special. But for now, can’t we just enjoy this moment together?”
She nods, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Of course, darling. I just want what’s best for you, that’s all.”
Amy raises her head from her food, giving me a knowing look, and I know this is all about the conversation about Jessy. I glare at her, daring her to say anything about it. After a split second, she looks away.
I turn to Mom. “So, Mom, how was Miami?”
“It was great. I hung out with a few old friends, your aunt came around, and we were all planning to go shopping the next day when a certain someone decided to cut her trip short.” Mom eyes Amy as she speaks.
“Yeah, I asked why she came back earlier than planned,” I say, chewing on some steak with a smile because I know that Mom is going to spill the tea soon, and the look Amy gives her says that she doesn’t want her to do so.
“She found out from a friend that her ex, Paul, is engaged to be married, and they were both in Miami for a vacation as well.”
I turn to look at Amy, and she scoffs, “He’s a douchebag anyway. I’m missing out on nothing.”
Even though she’s trying to hide it, I can see that she’s hurt, and I immediately feel bad that I had not noticed sooner the reason for her sadness.