4. All The Memories （Ethan）
ALL THE MEMORIES (ETHAN)
A s Hattie topples to the ground, I spring forward.
I catch her a split second before she crashes down on one of the piles of books stacked up next to the door.
What the hell is wrong with this girl?
She’s deadweight in my arms, knocked out cold, her eyes half-shut and her face blank.
“Not again. Look what you did,” Margot spits, exasperated.
I twist around to look at my sister. “How often does this happen? Does she have a condition?”
“Low blood pressure, I think. Sometimes a bad shock makes her woozy, and she’s had a few today. Let’s get her on the sofa.”
Without waiting for Margot’s help, I carry her over to the couch, trying to ignore the way she feels in my arms.
When did she get so soft?
Figures that little Hattie Sage would grow up to be a huge book dork and a hot mess.
Emphasis on hot.
Yes, she’s filled out in all the right places, but I can’t figure out what it is about her when she’s nothing like my usual type.
It’s subtle, her attractiveness.
Hell, I didn’t notice when I stormed in like a runaway train. Didn’t even notice when her viper mother grabbed me and did her best to kill me with swamp juice.
What was that shit, anyway?
Tasted like I was drinking a frappe made from yard waste.
I sit on the sofa, adjusting Hattie so her legs are propped up, her head lolling against my shoulder. Her hair, long and blonde with natural curly waves I know Margot would kill for, tumbles across my arm and stomach.
Her mouth is partly open.
I don’t remember her lips being so full before, so inviting. Every man’s wet dream.
Christ, what if she already has a boyfriend?
Did Gramps ever plan for that complication?
“What now? What do I do?” I demand. Margot doesn’t look a bit concerned.
“Well, holding her until she wakes up again is a good start.” Margot heads into the kitchen to get her a glass of water. “And don’t yell at her, dickhead,” she calls back.
“Fuck off,” I mutter, adjusting Hattie’s head so she’s not in danger of straining her neck.
Her eyes flutter open from the movement, slowly widening.
So much green.
Deep, rich green with flakes of brown around her irises.
Her breath stutters as she looks up and tries to speak.
“E-Ethan?” she rasps.
I practically shove her up to get her off my lap.
Goddamn, what’s wrong with me?
“You fainted,” I tell her bluntly.
“You gotta stop doing that, Hatgirl,” Margot says, approaching with water and what looks like a granola bar. “Here, eat this.”
Hattie sends me a nervous look before taking a drink and accepting the snack. The glass clinks on her teeth.
I take the opportunity to scan her shoebox apartment.
It’s small and cluttered. The living room resembles more of a library back room than a real apartment. She has three large bookcases crammed into the small space and there are more books piled everywhere.
Literally everywhere.
At least they look organized, I guess.
Carefully arranged stacks, some piled up in cardboard boxes, a few tossed carelessly on the coffee table. It looks like an army of squirrels came digging for books instead of nuts in here.
“That mess was me, in case you wondered,” Margot says, noticing where I’m looking. “I wanted to find all her classics.”
“They’re ordered alphabetically. And by genre,” Hattie mumbles, ripping the wrapper off the oat bar and taking a bite.
“Yeah, but I don’t know the system.” Margot rolls her eyes.
My kid sister has no clue how obnoxious she is.
People say the same about me, of course, but the difference is I’m aware.
I just don’t care.
I lean back, pressing into the cushions.
My anger from this morning in Wilkes’ office has worn off, and now it’s time to approach this logically.
Demands and threats aren’t working.
When I pushed, Hattie shoved right back, calling me out for being an asshole.
That’s new.
Old Hattie would’ve let out a squeak and ran.
I can’t even be mad at her because I was a raging cock.
Still, she’s apparently so delicate a check with a big number causes her to pass the fuck out.
So I can’t just wave money in her face, either.
Not without giving her some sugar first.
Damnably obnoxious, this entire situation.
Will she even make it through a wedding ceremony conscious?
Not that the will says she has to be.
I take another look around the apartment. She’s clearly not living it up, so maybe it really was just the shock of a sudden windfall.
Perhaps she needs time to get used to the idea of someone paying her well for a job.
Yes, even in my thoughts, I’m an asshole.
If she needs time, I can spare that, but there’s a limit.
I have a schedule, and I need a damn answer soon.
I need to commit to marrying her or I’ll have to find another way to secure my inheritance.
And knowing my luck and Wilkes’ grim assessment, that won’t be easy.
Fucking fabulous.
“Could you keep this thing away for now?” Margot picks up the check and passes it back to me before sitting on Hattie’s other side.
“Look,” she whispers to Hattie as her eyes blink open, “you don’t have to go through with this. Don’t let him pressure you.”
“Yes, she does,” I interrupt.
Does my sister think I’m dicking around, trying to buy a wife for fun?
I have a thousand better things I could be doing.
Hattie gives me a nervous glance.
I try not to look like I’m pissed.
“It’s a lot to take in,” Margot says gently, patting Hattie’s forehead.
Fine, I’ll give her that.
“It’s definitely a lot,” I agree. “I know the surprise wasn’t pleasant.”
Hattie nibbles on the granola bar, pulling her legs up under her. I make a point of not looking at them too long, even if she is wearing a pair of skimpy white shorts.
I’m not an animal. Self-control hasn’t been a problem since I was younger and dumber.
Hattie shouldn’t pose any challenge, no matter how unexpectedly curvy she’s gotten with age.
“We need to think about this rationally,” I say.
Margot glowers at me, then looks back at Hattie.
“Don’t listen. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. It’s a family favor. I think PopPop meant it as a compliment—he thought the world of you, you know. You were basically his other adopted granddaughter, after me and Cleo.”
A compliment.
That’s one fucked up way to look at it.
“Not that I know what he was thinking.” Margot shrugs and looks at me.
No argument there.
“There’s a lot of questions. I can’t fathom why he wanted this.” I try to sound reasonable and undickish.
“The why doesn’t matter in the end. It’s your choice, Hattie,” she says.
I scowl at her.
“Stop telling her what to do, Margot.”
“Guys, enough.” Hattie crunches the snack bar wrapper in her fist and looks between us. “I appreciate you, Gigi, it’s fine. I can get through this.”
I stare at her, surprised at the sudden change of heart.
I’m certainly not missing the opportunity.
“Excellent choice,” I say. “I can have the funds transferred immediately. If you don’t want the check, I’ll wire them. Whatever you prefer.”
She fires me a heated glance.
“Ethan, this isn’t about the money. Honestly, I’m curious. If we go through with this, maybe we’ll all find some answers. Leo must’ve had a reason for doing this.”
Not about the money she fainted over?
Whatever.
Still, if it makes her cooperate…
“Besides,” she adds, “it’s not like we need to hang out that much, right?”
Ouch. Fuck.
Sure, I came in guns blazing, but the comment stings more than it should.
There are tons of women who’d leap at the chance to trade places with her.
The taste of that green sludge fills my mouth, and I swallow past the rush of saliva.
“This isn’t easy for anyone,” I say sharply. “I’m not exactly looking to marry right now. Also, I drank that shit your mom brought to keep the peace.”
So far, that’s been the worst part of this black fucking day.
Red dusts Hattie’s cheeks.
Weirdly charming, but I sweep the thought aside.
“I am sorry about my mom,” she says, looking down. “I know that wasn’t—it couldn’t have been pleasant.”
“Or tasty,” Margot says gleefully. “I tried one of her turmeric concoctions once and I came so close to barfing. But I think it cured years of inflammation.”
“Thank you, Margot.” I snort.
As it happens, I also nearly threw up.
Probably would’ve, too, if this day hadn’t given me a lot of practice with holding it in.
But fuck, if I go three more lifetimes without having to taste that shit again, it won’t be long enough.
“This is incredible,” Margot says cheerfully. “I can practically feel the awkwardness in the air. Is your entire marriage going to be like this?”
I barely spare her a withering glance.
“Our marriage will be as painless as I can make it.”
“Our marriage will have a lot of ghosting,” Hattie says, apparently regaining her calm. She tucks her hair behind her ear and sips her water. “Right, Ethan?”
“Yes.” I unclench my jaw and stop myself from grinding my teeth.
“Once you learn to manage him, he’ll be just fine,” Margot whispers in Hattie’s ear, and although Hattie doesn’t giggle, she bites her lip like she’s hiding a smile.
Wrong time and place.
For one, I need to speak to Hattie without my little sister raising hell.
That might be her top talent, but I don’t have the time or energy to deal with it, or her, right now.
“We should sit down and discuss the terms of the agreement,” I say, ignoring the way Margot rolls her eyes.
What now?
Has she regressed back to teenage smartass when I wasn’t looking? Or did she ever grow up at all?
I haven’t spent enough time with her lately to know.
This is a business arrangement, dammit.
I’m going to treat it like one.
As soon as both parties know the precise terms, there’s no more confusion, no room for misinterpretation.
The moment we both know what’s expected, the sooner we can fulfill our roles, finish this, and move on.
Hattie chews the inside of her cheek.
“If we’re moving forward, we should sign a contract,” I continue. “I can have my lawyers draft something up. You’re welcome to add suggestions, provided they’re reasonable.”