Chapter 6 #3
“Nick works very hard. He has his own tech company.” Mrs. Wilder beams at her children, completely unruffled by the explosion a few seconds ago. “Megan is studying to be a fashion designer. Caleb is in marketing—He does consultancy work.”
“I don’t like being tied to any company.
” Caleb stretches his arms over his head with a lazy grin.
With his blonde hair and blue eyes, he stands out the most from his siblings.
“The way I see it, we have enough ambitious people in this family. Jake’s running Dad’s law firm.
Ethan is obsessed with his companies. Nick is just weird, and Megan is studying like crazy.
One of us should be a lazy bum. Why not me? I can take one for the team.”
Ethan looks at him with calculating eyes. “That reminds me. I might need you to do some consultancy work for my new company.”
Caleb’s smile fades instantly. “No thank you. I hate working for you.”
“We’ll see about that,” Ethan says lightly, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
“You’re not a bum, sweetheart.” Helen smiles at Caleb warmly.
“You work very hard, too. Ethan is just a workaholic. Once he gets his mind set on something, he will forget everything aside from his goal.” She looks at me with meaningful eyes.
“When he first started building his little empire, I discovered that he would skip meals regularly. Eating was a chore for him. I had to make sure he was getting three meals delivered a day, and every time, I would have to make sure he actually ate them. At least Nick takes care of himself. Ethan is just hopeless. I worry about him all the time.”
“I’m right here, you know,” Ethan reminds her irritably. “I’m not some helpless child, Mother.”
“You are my child,” Helen tells him firmly. “I have every right to worry about you. But now that you have Natalie, I’m sure she’ll look after you when I can’t.”
“I think—” I look between Ethan and his mother desperately. “I think there’s some sort of misunderstanding here. Ethan and I are just colleagues.”
“Oh sure.” Megan leans her cheek against her palm with a knowing smirk. “I also make out with my colleagues regularly.”
“Megan!” Ethan growls at her.
“Stop scolding your sister,” his mother chastises him. “ There’s no need to hide your relationship. We’re all family here.”
“That was—” My face is burning with embarrassment.
“Alright.” Ethan gets to his feet abruptly. “It’s getting late. I’m taking Natalie home.”
His mother stops him, standing up as well. “Natalie, dear, come with me. You’ve barely eaten. I’ll pack you some of the food to take with you.”
“You really don’t have to—” Flustered, I look toward Ethan for help, but the traitor just looks away with obvious amusement.
“I insist.” Helen takes me by the hand and drags me into the kitchen with firm determination.
Once alone with his mother, I try to tell her I don’t need the food, but she refuses to listen to me. “You’re so thin. You should eat more. I know how hard Ethan makes his employees work. And if he’s having you work overtime, you must be exhausted.”
She’s packing food into some of the fanciest looking tupperware I have ever seen, each container probably worth more than my weekly grocery budget. The choice has clearly already been made for me, so I try a different approach. “Mrs. Wilder, I really don’t need this much.”
“You’re a nice girl, Natalie.” She smiles warmly at me over her shoulder. “I’m glad Ethan found you. His dating life has been rather dry for a while. I was starting to get worried whether he would ever find a girl for himself.”
Why is everyone so insistent that Ethan and I are together? “Mrs. Wilder?—”
“Helen, dear.”
“Helen,” I begin carefully. “There is really nothing going on between the two of us. I’m just an ordinary employee?—”
She turns around to face me and lightly touches my stained sleeve, a secretive smile playing on her lips. “You should wash this with baking soda. It helps lift lipstick stains. ”
I had tried my best to roll up my sleeve, but it must have come undone while I was eating.
My face burns from embarrassment. “I admit that we did share a kiss, but that was all. Emotions running high. That’s it. There is nothing?—”
Helen chuckles lightly as if genuinely amused. “Any other girl would be singing a different tune. Is Ethan not your type?”
“What?” My head jerks up in shock.
Mrs. Wilder studies me curiously. “You don’t like my son?”
“No! I—No! He’s a very nice person.” The words are forced out of me. I don’t think telling her that he’s manipulative while standing in her home would be very tactful.
“Just nice?” His mother looks disappointed. “He’s very good-looking. He got it from his father, you know. When Harold and I met, I fell in love with his face. He, on the other hand, liked my money. Neither of us expected to fall so deeply for each other the way we did.”
I press my lips together tightly. Did she really just call herself shallow and her husband a gold digger? Is that something that’s acceptable to admit out loud now?
She seems to have read my thoughts and laughs gaily. “Oh dear. I think I’ve given you the wrong impression. Harold and I had what people call an arranged marriage. We were lucky because we fit so well with each other, but we’ve always wanted our children to choose their partners.”
She takes out a paper bag and begins placing the tupperware inside.
“You call yourself an ordinary employee, but I don’t think that’s the case.
My son doesn’t get entangled in workplace romances.
And you’re not the first employee I’ve invited to dinner while he was working overtime with someone.
But you’re the first he brought with him.
And that tells me something.” She turns around to face me, her eyes pleased.
“You’re also the first girl he’s ever brought home.
I take it as a good sign. I know my son.
He wouldn’t have introduced you to the family if you weren’t important to him. ”
My mouth feels dry. Surely she’s wrong.
“Mrs.—”
“Helen,” she corrects me patiently.
“Yes, sorry.” I take a minute to recoup before returning to my point. “I really think you’re reading far too much into this.”
She hands me the paper bag, her eyes warm with affection.
“You may not have noticed it, but throughout dinner, Ethan was more concerned with what was on your plate than his. He kept piling things on your plate, filling your glass. My son doesn’t do that for anyone, Natalie.
I may not spend all day with him, but I know that boy inside out. You are special to him.”
Her hand comes to cup my cheek tenderly. “Which is why you are special to me.”
My heart is beating wildly at her words. She’s mistaken. She has to be mistaken.
“Don’t be a stranger now. Let’s have lunch someday.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Wilder.”
I don’t know what else to say, staring down at the paper bag in my arms.
She pats my cheek gently. “You should take care of yourself, too, Natalie. I have a feeling that you’re also a workaholic like my son.”
I flush with guilty recognition. “A lot of people depend on me.”
“And who do you depend on?”
Her question leaves me speechless.
“I’m sorry about slapping you. I shouldn’t have done that.”
It’s been twenty minutes since we got in the car, and Ethan hasn’t said a word to me .
After a moment, he murmurs, “It’s fine. You didn’t leave a mark.”
I glance at his cheek and he’s right. However, I still feel guilty about my loss of control.
Commenting further will just drag the situation out, and I want to do anything but. So I choose to remain silent. Instead, I ponder over Helen’s question to me.
Who do I depend on?
I have friends. I depend on them. I have Sarah. Iris is getting to be a good friend as well.
Aside from that, do I really have anybody else?
I’ve always thrown myself into my work to hide from the realities of life.
I don’t think I’ve ever gone to my mother with a problem.
I don’t think I’m even allowed to do so.
I used to worship the ground Lucas walked on, but now when I think back, he never really listened to my problems. He would always pat me on the head and send me away.
But back then, I craved approval and love from someone so desperately that even that much was enough for me.
I gaze out the window at the New York City streets rushing past, my chest tightening with a familiar ache.
Today I realized how lonely I truly am. Surrounded by the loud Wilder family, watching them tease, laugh, and fight with each other, it showed me the stark contrast that is my life.
Am I really so alone?
I work on the weekends because I don’t have friends to hang out with. If I want to go to the movies, I go alone. I eat dinner alone. Aside from my work, what do I really have?
I press my lips together, feeling my eyes burn with unbidden tears. Attempting to blink them away, I clear my throat. “Your family is nice.”
“Nice?” Ethan echoes in disbelief. “I wouldn’t use that word to describe them. They’re an unruly bunch.”
I can’t help but scoff, smiling through my tears. “Or maybe you’re the odd one out. I really don’t see how you’re related to them. I thought your mother was a socialite, though.”
“She is.”
When I don’t say anything further, he glances at me with curiosity. “You’re thinking she’s not like the other socialites you’ve met over the course of your career.”
“I’ve hardly met any,” I shrug.
“Of course you have.” Ethan turns his attention back to the road.
“Braxton was known for throwing grand events.” Ethan turns his attention back to the road.
“My mother knows how to act like them, but she’s always preferred focusing on her family and her gardening.
She was always a hands-on parent. My father was pretty much the same.
They like their luxury, but once you look past it, she’s pretty normal. ”
“She’s very obsessed with your love life,” I comment dryly.
“I don’t date as much as she would like.”