Chapter 9
NATALIE
We still have three days in Chicago, but after the events of last night, I don’t want to face Ethan.
Why did he have to go and ruin a perfectly good night? We were having fun—maybe a little too much fun. I had begun to relax around him, which was clearly a mistake. I should never have agreed to go to the fair. Should’ve just been professional, had a meal, and come back to the hotel.
My phone rings, cutting through the morning silence, and I reach for it while still buried under the soft hotel covers.
It’s Sarah.
“So, how is Chicago treating you?”
“I hate it.” I turn on my side, folding my arm under my head while gazing out at the city skyline.
“Really?” My friend’s voice is dry. “You hate Chicago or your CEO?”
I sigh, watching the morning light filter through the curtains. “Sarah, do you think people can change? ”
“I think you mean to ask whether I think Ethan Wilder can change.” I can hear her chuckle on the other end of the line.
“You just know everything, don’t you?” I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me.
She sounds pleased with herself. “No, I don’t.
But I do know you. And yes, I do think people can change.
Five years is a long time. A lot of things can happen in five years.
You were right the other day when you said there is nothing he can possibly want from you.
But did you think perhaps he just wants you ? ”
Frustrated, I roll onto my back, gazing at the pristine white ceiling. “But why? He doesn’t even know me. I’m so fucking boring. I don’t have a life. I watch the same movie on repeat when I am tired on the weekend. I rewatch the same TV shows. Name one interesting thing about me.”
The sound of something clattering reaches me through the phone. “You’re right. You are absolutely boring. In fact, you are so boring you should die alone and single.”
“Thank you.” I find myself cracking a grin despite the sarcasm. “Was that so hard to admit?”
“Honey, you need therapy. A lot of it. Maybe a splash of institutionalization to fix that brain of yours. So you don’t go out and party in clubs—you don’t have the time. You like traveling, and you like collecting all that weird-ass art.”
“Name one time I’ve traveled,” I demand, sitting up slightly.
“You went to Hawaii, touched it, and came back,” Sarah points out with characteristic bluntness. “In my opinion, that counts.”
“I don’t even think I touched it,” I say regretfully. “If I had known it was Ethan over here, I would have stayed on vacation.”
“Never say never,” Sarah says in a sing-song voice, and I hear something sizzling in the background. My stomach grumbles in response.
“What are you cooking? I’m so hungry.”
“Eggs and bacon,” she replies. “Look, life has not been easy for you. I know that. But there are times when the universe decides to be nice to you. I don’t fuck around with the universe, okay?
Neither should you. I don’t think Ethan coming back was a coincidence.
I think he realized what he lost. Instead of running away from him, give him a chance.
If nothing else, you get a good lay out of it. ”
“He’s my boss.”
“Oh, no,” Sarah says sarcastically. “Not your boss. Surely not.”
Rolling my eyes again, I shake my head. “I shouldn’t have answered the phone.”
“Stop closing every door before it’s even opened, Natalie.
You can’t live like that.” My friend’s voice turns serious, cutting through her usual playfulness.
“And you cannot heal till you let yourself heal. You like him. It’s obvious to me, or you wouldn’t be so conflicted.
If you didn’t give a damn about Ethan Wilder, you would not care what he does.
He could stand naked in front of you, and you would be completely unaffected.
But you clearly feel something. So give it a try, and don’t be a coward. ”
“You’re not a good friend,” I mutter petulantly.
“I’m sure I’ll get over it,” she responds without missing a beat.
“Sometimes I just need you to agree with me,” I complain.
“Sure. I’ll do it next time. This time I’m telling you you’re wrong, and you need to give him a chance. Men like Ethan don’t come along every day.”
Another sigh escapes me. “You don’t get it, Sarah.”
“I do.” Her voice gentles with understanding.
“Everybody in your life has let you down. I get it. Ethan was one of those people. Look, Nat, fine, don’t fall into his bed.
But forgive him. We all make mistakes. He took you to meet his family.
A man who was trying to play around with you would never do that.
Also, you’re a smart woman. Just consider his behavior.
Has he given any indication that he’s trying to play you?
He was in his car outside the apartment for hours that night. ”
Confusion washes over me. “What are you talking about?”
Sarah hisses through her teeth. “That night he overheard the message from your mother, he stayed outside. He was worried about you. I had to go out and tell him to go home. It took me a lot of effort to get him moving. He didn’t stick around because he wanted to bump uglies with you.”
Scrunching my face in distaste, I protest, “Do you really have to put it like that?”
“I call ‘em as I see ‘em.” I hear the oven timer go off in the background, and she adds, “Look, I have to get going. I have a guest over.”
Sitting up fully in bed, my interest piques. “You have a what over?”
“A guest.” Some more clanging and shuffling sounds.
“A guy?”
“Yes.”
“Last night’s date?”
“If you must know, I got stood up by that jerk, and this one isn’t sleeping in my bed. He’s on the couch. Long story. I’ll tell you when I see you. Now I gotta go kiss his ass before he sues me for ruining his car.”
“His what? Sarah? Hello?”
She’s already ended the call, and I gaze at the phone with bewilderment. What has she gotten herself into this time?
There’s a sharp knock on the door, and I clamber out of bed, yawning as the morning air hits my skin. My hair is tied in two braids—a convenience for sleeping—and I have two of those cold eye gel patches under my eyes that my flatmate insists we wear to hide our dark circles.
When there’s another impatient knock, I call out, “I’m coming. Wait.”
I’m wearing only a thin tank top and a pair of panties as I pad toward the door.
Looking around for a robe to cover myself with, I can’t see one anywhere.
I consider heading to the bathroom to get a bathrobe, but the third persistent knock has me growling in annoyance.
It must be housekeeping. I had planned to go for a run early in the morning, so I asked the front desk to send them up around that time.
Sure I overslept, but why are they knocking? ! Don’t they have a key?
Rubbing my eyes sleepily, I open the door slightly. “Sorry, can you come b?—”
The door is pushed open with surprising force, and Ethan walks in like he owns the place. “We have a problem...”
Gaping at him in shock, I sputter, “What the hell?!”
He turns around to face me, about to say something, when his amber eyes finally take in my appearance. His eyebrows shoot up so high they might disappear into his hairline. Finally, he says, “That’s an interesting look.”
“Oh, my god!” I snarl, heat flooding my cheeks. “Get out!”
He’s laughing now as I try to push him toward the door, the rich sound filling the room. “What? I think it looks cute.”
“Get out, and let me change!” It’s frustratingly hard to push him when he digs his heels in. Turning around, he places his hands on my bare shoulders and propels me toward the bedroom. “Sorry. We don’t have the time. Get changed. I have to talk to you.”
When he uses that commanding tone, I know there’s no way he’s leaving.
“Fine! But don’t turn around!” I snap, shooting him a warning glare.
As I rush to the bedroom, my face burns with embarrassment. He saw me like this, all disheveled and?—
Throwing on my clothes with hurried movements, I mutter to myself, “Why do you care what he thinks about you? Let him look. I can’t be presentable all the time!”
Still, my face feels hot as I finally emerge, fumbling with the buttons on my shirt.
He’s making coffee in the small kitchenette, moving with efficient grace.
“I just heard from one of the shareholders. We were working on the relaunch of one of the yachts. The campaign was supposed to kickstart this morning. One of our rival companies launched their campaign. It’s the same campaign, word for word, event for event.
The leak came from the Marketing Department. ”
My fingers pause mid-button. “What? We have to return then?”
“Not yet. I have to deal with the board. Politics comes first.”
“But, isn’t this urgent?”
“It is, but I had been anticipating a few leaks so I’ve had a few contingency plans in place. I wasn’t expecting one from this particular department, though.”
He turns around and studies me for a moment before approaching with two steaming cups of coffee. Setting them down on the granite counter beside me, he reaches out and gently pushes my hands away with maddening patience. “You’re putting the button in the wrong hole.”
The sudden proximity leaves me stunned, my brain struggling to process what he’s doing.
His fingers brush against the sensitive skin at the top of my chest as he carefully fastens my buttons, one by one.
I want to push his hands away, but my heart hammers against my ribs, his familiar cologne wrapping around me like a silk noose.
My mouth goes dry, this unwelcome flare of attraction too powerful to deny.
Why?
Why, after all this time, am I still so helplessly drawn to him?