Ethan
“We have a new client request,” Marcus said as he walked into my office.
I looked up from reviewing the updated compliance and risk mitigation policy to see Marcus waving a folder in his hand and with a fiery look in his brown eyes.
He sat in the chair in front of my desk and crossed one leg over the other.
I grabbed the file and opened it. My eyes bugged out at seeing a famous international actor’s name.
“Yeah, exactly,” Marcus said in a sharp tone.
I flipped through the pages as Marcus spoke. “That means international travel, Ethan. We’ll be gone for weeks, not days. Ebony has already been on my ass on how often I have to be away.”
I grunted in agreement—the constant battle of winning professionally but losing at home.
Over the last year, our firm had been overwhelmed with new client inquiries that came with high demands.
“Well, Marcus,” I began, “You’re not going to like what I’m about to tell you.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “What now?”
“Four security guards resigned.”
His jaw went slack. “Four? All in one day?”
“Try within hours,” I corrected, watching his expression harden.
“Which client?” he asked.
“Vaultix.”
Marcus didn’t bother to close his mouth. “Why?”
I pushed my hand through my hair and blew out a breath. “Inconvenient and long hours, burnout, not enough pay and benefits, and, as one of them so eloquently put it, ‘working for a grade-A prick.’”
I didn’t need to elaborate on Calvin J. Fox.
The self-proclaimed visionary behind Vaultix, a tech-finance company with over 30 million in assets, had been a pain in our asses for the past year due to his revolving door of security personnel.
He expected round-the-clock availability, little to no notice for changes, and he had a complete disregard for anything resembling a work-life balance.
Marcus finally snapped his mouth shut. “What’s the plan? Do you want to initiate the investigation process, or do we just terminate the contract outright?”
“Since this is the first formal complaint we’ve received, we will investigate and verify the allegations. Once we have our findings, depending on the severity of the claims, we issue a formal warning to Mr. Fox.”
“Meaning?” Marcus pressed, leaning forward slightly.
“Meaning if any type of abuse, harassment, or systemic exploitation is sustained and confirmed,” I clarified, “we terminate the contract immediately.”
Marcus nodded slowly. “I concur.”
“For now, we’ll remove the involved guards and interview them until the investigation is completed,” I added.
“Sounds like a plan,” Marcus stated, rising to his feet and buttoning his suit jacket. “I’ll get working on hiring the replacement guards.”
He strode towards the door. As he pulled it open, he paused, looking back over his shoulder. A weary smile touched his lips. “Looks like it’s going to be another long night, brother,” he added before walking out of the room.
I dropped my head against the headrest, a wave of exhaustion washing over me.
An investigation of this magnitude wasn’t a quick fix.
It could take weeks, even months. We’d have to go through each complaint, gather initial documents, and schedule interviews with every bodyguard involved, and any potential witnesses.
Reviewing emails, text messages, surveillance videos... the list was daunting.
Lily and the kids were going to kill me. I would have to break another promise to my family.
Lily was the kind of woman any man on earth would give anything for, but somehow, it seems like my primary concern was ensuring she was financially secure and providing my family with everything my parents were unable to offer me.
I reached for my phone and started to shoot a text to Lily, letting her know I wouldn’t be able to make it tonight.
How many more of these hollow words did I have left to offer?
And how many more times would Lily forgive me?
“Hey.”
I looked up from the report on my desk and saw Emma framed in the doorway. Her long, dark, golden-blonde hair was draped over one shoulder. Her emerald eyes met mine, and a soft smile graced her lips.
“Hey,” I responded. “What are you still doing here?”
“I thought you could use some dinner,” she announced, holding up a brown paper bag from the artisanal sandwich shop down the street.
A genuine smile formed on my lips. “You’re my savior.”
She walked in with an almost languid sway to her hips and drifted toward the round table nestled in the corner of my office.
I pushed myself up from my chair, my fingers absently smoothing down my tie.
She unpacked the bag, laying out the contents on the table. She handed me my food first, her fingers brushing mine.
“I got your favorite,” she said, her eyes holding mine a beat longer than necessary.
My brows furrowed slightly. “You did?”
She nodded. “Yes. Italian sub with extra meat and dressing. A bag of regular crinkle chips, and lemonade without ice.”
I looked at her, stunned. How the hell did she know that?
“I pay attention,” she replied as if she’d plucked the unspoken question right out of my mind. A faint blush dusted her cheeks, but her eyes held a challenge, a quiet confidence that bordered on something more... intimate and uncomfortable.
“Right. Because you’re my assistant,” I said, mostly to myself, trying to rationalize it.
She had taken my orders in the past, sure. But this felt... different. More personal.
“Right,” she echoed, her smile widening just a fraction, before she took a seat across from me.
“Emma,” I said, my voice laced with exhaustion, “you really don’t have to stay. I’m sure you have far better things to do than sit here, eating takeout with your boss.”
She dismissed me with a wave. “No. Not at all. Besides”—she shrugged—“you’re drowning in this case. There’s no way you can tackle all of this alone tonight. Let me at least lighten the load, even a little.” Her voice dropped slightly on the last few words.
She met my eyes, and a surprising warmth, an unexpected solace, began to seep through the tight knot of anxiety in my chest. “I understand the relentless grind, Ethan. The impossible balance between the demands of this company and the expectations back home. The constant, silent fight to keep everyone happy.”
“I appreciate that, Emma.” The words felt inadequate for the depth of understanding I felt. More than she could ever know.
A sad smile touched her lips. “It’s part of the job, isn’t it? I know what these hours mean, what they cost.” She slowly unwrapped her sub, methodically spreading mayo on it, her movements deliberate.
“And I understand the toll it takes on you,” she continued, her voice softer now, more direct.
“You manage a whole company, and demanding clients calling at all hours. And still, you walk in every morning, acting as if you have everything under control. But there are times, Ethan, when I know you feel like it’s anything but. ”
“You talk from experience,” I said, watching her.
She took a bite of her sub, chewing slowly. “I was married for five years before my husband left me. Said I was married to my job, not to him.”
My hand instinctively went to my chest, rubbing the chilling thought of Lily one day saying those same words.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
She gave me a faint smile. “Me too, but I’m passed it now.
It took a long time, but I was able to pull myself together and move on.
Besides, now I can find someone who matches my energy.
I don’t want to go home to another argument, or for someone who won’t look at me every day like I’m a disappointment.
Do you have any idea what that feels like? ” she asked.
Yes, I do, I wanted to scream.
Instead, a quiet, mirthless laugh escaped me. “I feel like I’m a disappointment to my family, every late night, every missed dinner, every single sacrifice is about providing for them. About giving them everything I didn’t have growing up.”
Her expression softened, but there was no pity, only a deep, shared understanding. “That’s because she doesn’t see you here, Ethan. She doesn’t see what you pour into this place every single day. But I do. I see the struggles, the sacrifices.”
She looked at me then with an intensity that reminded me of how Lily used to look at me. A look that said I mattered, that conveyed a silent pride in me. I knew Lily had every right to be angry, to be hurt when I missed Jake’s swim meets, another family dinner, or left her texts unanswered.
But wasn’t that what you did? Sacrificed a little of yourself now so that you would have more time for them later? The thought felt unconvincing, like a big pile of shitty excuses.
“I think you are an extraordinary human being, Ethan Hartley.”
The corner of my mouth lifted before I could stop it. “And I think the right guy out there is waiting for you, Emma. One who will appreciate you for exactly who you are, without making you feel like you need to choose.”
She smiles. “I hope so.”
The shift in the air was a comfortable closeness replaced by something entirely new. Something dangerous.