37. Thirty-seven
“Hello, Penelope,” Ethan drawls.
In this light, Ethan’s eyes look more green than blue, and it’s now my least favorite color.
“Hello, Penelope?” I repeat through clenched teeth.
Ethan’s eyes drop from my face down the length of my body, and satisfaction competes with rage for a split second.
“I’m serious, Ethan. What are you doing here?” I demand, slowly lowering myself into my chair.
He casually takes a seat across from me. Like I invite him. Which I don’t.
“Dion mentioned you ordered the newest cocktail on the menu. What do you think?” he asks, tongue in cheek.
“You?” My voice is now louder than the woman singing.
“Actually, you. If you’re mad that I didn’t give you credit, I can if you want.”
Like, that is why my blood is boiling.
“That’s not what… that’s not why.”
I smack my lips loudly and blow out a frustrated breath. I lower my voice and fake calmness. “I saw it and wanted to ask how they got the idea. I wasn’t pissed because I didn’t get credit. Jesus, Ethan. Why are you here?”
I look around the restaurant, and the pieces fall into place. It’s different but also very much the same.
Bastard.
“I figured you’d know by the name. It’s not exactly creative,” he says, leaning back in his seat casually.
“I didn’t look at the name. I was hungry and picked the first place on my walk.”
I look at the wall beside me, and big as the broad side of the barn, Mainely Local is painted onto the exposed brick wall in big letters.
I groan.
“Look, this is a mistake,” I say in a huff. “I’m sorry Dion wasted your time. Just let me eat my food because I’m about to die of starvation and forget you ever saw me.”
He stares at me in that way of his, and I feel like a caged lion.
“Where are Marin and Finn?” he asks, resting his forearms on the table across from me and leaning too close—deliberately ignoring me.
“Not here,” I snap. “What are you doing, Ethan? I got the picture loud and clear you don’t…” I hold up a hand. “No, never mind. I’m not doing this. I jus—”
“Where are Marin and Finn?” he asks again, ignoring me, leaning back in his chair like he’s never leaving.
“God, you’re arrogant! They found some wilderness camp thing they wanted to do in Acadia, so I dropped them off this morning.”
“Where are you staying?”
I hate how good he looks.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I have an Airbnb a couple blocks away. We hit a moose when we left your house and were towed here, only to be told the beloved Avion was totaled. The kids will be gone for two weeks, and now here I am. Anything else you want to know before I call the cops and have you removed from my table for harassment?”
I suck the rest of my drink down with a long, loud slurp and raise my glass toward Dion across the room.
“You hit a moose? Christ! Nel, why didn’t you call me?” His concern is hysterical. Maybe, the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.
“Tell me that’s a joke,” I scoff. “You leave without saying goodbye, and you think I’m going to just call you when I’m stranded on the side of the road? What, so you can rescue me? You must be delusional.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Oh really? Well, I’m sure Derek had a lot to say about how I handled the news that you were gone. How I babbled on like a moron in the middle of your kitchen.” I laugh bitterly as the music of the song fades into silence. “I get it. Women are disposable to you, Ethan. Fine. But I thought you would at least have the courtesy to say goodbye. If anything, it should have been ideal for you. You gave me a screaming orgasm in my pants, told me you have no hypothetical feelings for me, and then I was going to drive away the next day. Isn’t that a near-perfect no-strings-attached scenario for you?”
The people at the next table stop their conversation and gawk at me as Ethan scrubs a hand over his face in a failed attempt to hide his laugh.
Dion puts a salad and fresh cocktail down in front of me and smiles nervously at Ethan.
“Dion?” My voice is sweet as aspartame. “Please keep the drinks coming. And Mr. Mills here will be paying for my tab and tipping you generously for your efforts.”
I shoot Ethan a trying glare, daring him to argue, but he just keeps a stupid smirk on his face giving Dion a nod before waving him away.
I take a bite of my salad while Ethan watches me. I ignore him until my skin starts to burn off my bones from the intensity.
I drop my fork and lock eyes with his.
“Listen, Ethan, if you have something to say, just fucking say it. I spent the morning crying because my kids left me for two weeks, but then, I miraculously stopped and decided to enjoy my time here. I went for a walk. Went shopping. Bought myself this ridiculously expensive dress. Tomorrow, maybe I’ll go find whales. Or maybe I’ll lay in a bathtub all day. I’m trying here. I’m trying to have fun even though none of this is how I hoped it would be. So please, if there’s one little sliver of humanity in you, put me out of my misery and tell me how I can get you to leave me the hell alone.”
His eyes fall to my neck—my bare neck—where his expression falters.
He notices. “Don’t leave before I come to talk to you again.” When he doesn’t have a smug look, my eyes narrow.
“Excuse me?”
“I have to go back to the kitchen, but please don’t leave until I talk to you again. So I can explain. And then I’ll leave you alone. Please.”
His eyes search mine and I want to tell him no. Desperately.
“Fine.” I lift my fork. “But I’m not staying here all night.”
Without another word, he stands up and walks to the kitchen, leaving me stunned.