Chapter 10 #3
“It’s a simple yes or no answer.”
“You’re so incredibly full of yourself!” She splutters indignantly, but I notice how she presses her legs together more tightly. “And the answer is absolutely no!”
My lips curve in a knowing smile, and I whisper softly against her ear, “Liar.”
“Just go!” she glares with magnificent fury. “And it doesn’t matter what you think you know. I’m the one drawing boundaries here, and this is a big, fat line in the sand. We had our fun, and now it’s completely over.”
I would be more concerned if she actually believed that obvious falsehood herself.
“I’m going to go get changed for the meeting. We’ll talk about this later. The masseuse will be here in a bit. I’ve booked her for two hours. Take a nap during it if you need to. I don’t intend to let you sleep tonight either.”
As I walk away with purposeful strides, she calls after me with less conviction than she probably intended, “You must be crazy if you think I’m going to let you touch me tonight.”
The lack of real conviction in her voice gives me all the answer I need.
Stepping out into the hallway, I immediately call my sister. She picks up on the second ring with her usual energy.
“I’m in Chicago, Megan. I need a complete outfit for Natalie—dress, jewelry, shoes, and a professional makeup artist. Can you arrange all of that for me?”
“Natalie?” I can practically hear the delighted grin in my sister’s voice. “You mean your girlfriend, Natalie?”
“Megan.”
“Fine, fine,” she snickers with barely contained glee. “Send me your address. I’m actually in Chicago myself right now. I’m supposed to leave tonight, so I’ll come by in an hour.”
“Not in an hour.” I don’t bother asking why she’s in the city; my sister loves traveling when she’s not buried in her studies, and she has friends scattered across the country. “Come by around six. ”
“Are you completely crazy? My flight is at seven!”
“Cancel it. You can take my plane instead.”
“I don’t like your private plane—it’s too stuffy and formal. I prefer traveling my own way. I’ll cancel my flight, but you’re definitely paying for the new ticket.”
“Fine. Just arrive by six.”
“Can I bring my date?”
“Absolutely not.” I pause, my expression darkening with big-brother protectiveness. “Did you come to Chicago with a man?”
“No,” she drawls in a way that immediately tells me she’s lying through her teeth.
“I see.”
“If you start probing into my private life, Ethan, I’ll find creative ways to make you suffer,” my sister threatens. “You all need to butt out.”
Making a mental note to thoroughly investigate who she’s been seeing recently, I reply, “Just bring a good selection of dresses for her. She’s not—” I clear my throat carefully.
“She’s not feeling particularly well today.
So bring her shoes and various outfits to try on, plus some elegant jewelry options. ”
“She’s not feeling well?” I can hear the wickedly knowing laugh building in my sister’s voice, and I scowl.
“Watch yourself, Megan.”
“I didn’t even say anything!” she protests before bursting into delighted laughter that echoes through the phone.
Ending the call forcefully, I send her the hotel address.
Now I have serious work to handle.
By the time the interminable meeting finally ends, it’s well past six, and I’m in a decidedly foul mood.
Dealing with the board of directors is never my idea of productive time—they’re nosy, ask questions about subjects they have no real understanding of, and seem to exist solely to waste my valuable time.
As I slide into the car, Fergus glances over his shoulder and hands me a small bag.
“I picked it up from the dry cleaners as requested. Good as new.”
I carefully take out the small panda bear that Natalie had so dramatically thrown away last night.
A genuine smile flickers across my lips as I examine the now-pristine toy, and I place it back in the bag, setting it beside me like a precious artifact.
Reaching into my wallet, I pull out the photograph of us from the fair.
Natalie’s smile is radiant and uninhibited, her eyes sparkling with pure joy.
My own smile deepens in response to her captured happiness.
Studying the genuine sparkle in her eyes, I feel something shift in my chest before sliding the picture back into my wallet with reverent care. I’ve always made decisions using cold logic and meticulous research. Chaos and impulsivity have never been words in my carefully organized vocabulary.
When I was young, Jake was the impulsive twin, always diving headfirst into trouble without considering consequences.
I would be the one monitoring situations carefully, waiting for precisely the right moment to extract him from whatever mess he’d created.
After high school, the internship I chose had been planned out months in advance.
Even when my father vehemently opposed it, I wasn’t about to let his disapproval disrupt my carefully laid plans.
I attended a college I had thoroughly researched, started my first business after extensive deliberation.
Every investor I chose, every woman I dated, had been a calculated decision based on clear objectives.
My first truly impulsive decision had been to pursue Natalie, driven by a mistake I made in trusting her treacherous brother.
She had seemed innocent and gullible enough at the time, an easy mark.
I had never imagined I would actually enjoy the time spent with her, that she would become something more than just a means to an end.
But even then, I stuck rigidly to my original plan, and that plan ultimately cost me everything I didn’t even know I wanted.
Regret had hit me like a physical blow, but when I returned to that hotel room barely an hour later, she had already vanished.
I decided to give her a few days to calm down before approaching her, to let the sting of my words fade.
I still don’t know what exactly I intended to say or why I cared enough to want to apologize, but I had never used another person so callously and it didn’t sit well with the man I thought I was.
But she had simply disappeared without a trace.
Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and still no sign of her.
Like my assistant had discovered, she had no social media presence I could use to track her down.
Looking for her became an unhealthy obsession that consumed my thoughts.
She became the impossible standard for every woman I encountered, the benchmark for every woman I attempted to date.
Nobody else even came close to measuring up.
If I hadn’t spotted her at that charity event a year ago, I might have spent the rest of my life searching.
But the moment I laid eyes on her—laughing with some forgettable man, absolutely stunning with her hair elegantly arranged and wearing a sophisticated black dress that highlighted every perfect curve—my obsession reignited with frightening intensity.
Once I knew which company employed her, it wasn’t difficult to start carefully unraveling the threads of her new life. I needed to see her again, to talk to her, to understand what had happened between us. But most of all, I wanted her back in my life, in my bed, in my world.
My gaze drifts toward the paper bag containing the rescued panda.
Back then, I didn’t fully understand what I wanted from her.
She represented my deepest, most irrational desire.
Did I simply want to sleep with her again?
Did I want to bind her to me so completely that she could never leave?
Or was I already falling in love without recognizing the symptoms?
Recalling the way her hand curled around mine yesterday evening as she eagerly pulled me toward the fair, I’m forced to confront uncomfortable truths.
Did I expect to fall in love with her? She’s not the same na?ve girl she was five years ago, but whatever she’s become, I crave her with an intensity that borders on madness.
I want all her smiles directed at me, her thoughts consumed by me, her entire world revolving around me.
But it seems the roles have been completely reversed.
Natalie is still trying to escape from me, even after this morning’s passionate encounter.
Why did I foolishly think getting her to move past that one disastrous night would be simple?
I’ve never been one to forgive people who betrayed my trust, so why should I expect her to forgive me so easily?
Earning her trust is going to be no small task. I don't know what changed her mind or why she decided she wanted to sleep with me, but I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I intend to fully take advantage of the situation.
My finger taps restlessly against my knee as I observe the passing cars through tinted windows.
Natalie seems to be operating under the amusing illusion that if she allows me into her bed, I’ll be satisfied and easier to dismiss afterward.
Her theory is both ludicrous and oddly endearing.
My lips curve with dark satisfaction. Excellent.
Let her cling to her delusions for now. She’s going to start letting her guard down gradually, and then I’m going to systematically chip away at her defenses until they crumble completely and she’s mine for the taking.
As Fergus expertly weaves through the heavy traffic, I recall Jake’s disturbing findings about her family situation.
Her mother is financially exploiting her without shame.
Her personal finances are in shambles because of it.
Most troubling of all, her mother actually evicted her after the serious accident that kept her hospitalized for weeks five years ago.
What kind of mother throws out her own daughter when she’s vulnerable and recovering?