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Instead, I’m focused on Ethan, who is currently leaning indolently against one of the huge picture windows that looks out over the ocean. Though he’s deep in conversation with Lorraine and one of the attorneys from Trifecta, I can tell that he’s watching me. It’s the first time since this morning that he has so much as glanced my way, and my heart starts beating triple time with the realization.
I raise my glass in a quiet acknowledgment, wait to see what he’ll do in response. I expect a raised eyebrow at the least, maybe a quirk of his lips—something that acknowledges the fact that I caught him looking.
Instead, he stares silently for long seconds before very deliberately, very rudely, turning his back to me. Again.
It’s the last straw in a day, a week, half a month of shitty happenings, and I can’t take it. Not when I miss him the way that I do, like a phantom limb or an addiction I just can’t shake.
Not when everything inside of me yearns for him with an intensity that keeps me up at night. That practically brings me to my knees.
An intensity that I’m terrified will never go away.
I react without thinking, barely pausing to drop my glass on the nearest flat surface before bolting for the door. I don’t know where I’m going and I don’t care as long as it’s away from here.
Chapter Eight
“Hey, you okay?”
I startle at the unexpected voice, turn to see who has bothered to track me down after my less-than-illustrious exit from the party. No one from Frost Industries, that’s for sure. They’re all either too angry at me for being with Ethan or they’re too wary of doing anything that might upset him.
Sure enough, the guy standing in the restaurant doorway is one of the junior lawyers from Trifecta. Jake or Jace, something like that.
“I’m fine,” I tell him. “Why?”
He seems to take the question as an invitation to join me on the beach where I’m watching the wind tear at the wild, rocky waves.
“You left without your champagne.” He holds a fresh glass out to me. “Thought you might be missing it?”
It’s corny and ridiculous and kind of exactly the right thing to say—so much better than pointing out the fact that I’m one step away from being a social pariah. I laugh despite myself.
“I am missing it.” I take the glass and raise it in a little toast to him. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He moves to stand next to me, his expensive dress shoes making a sucking sound with each step he takes out onto the wet sand. “Chloe, right?”
“Yes. And you’re …” I take a guess. “Jace?”
“I am.” He glances out at the water. “The wind is really kicking it up tonight, isn’t it? It’s a mess out there.”
“I think it’s beautiful.” There’s just something about the sto
rm-tossed water that gets to me every time. The wildness of it, maybe. Or the imperfection. Either way¸ I could stand here all night watching the wind whip the waves into a frenzy.
He nods, but I can tell he doesn’t agree. Or doesn’t get it—I’m not sure which. Before I can decide, a sudden gust of wind comes rushing off the ocean and I shiver despite myself.
“You’re cold.” He shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it over my shoulders. I startle a little when he gets close, cast a look over his shoulder toward the restaurant. Then nearly sigh in relief when I realize that half the main dining room has a perfect view of this beach. More than two dozen people can see us out here right now. I’m as safe as I would be in any public place.
Not that Jace isn’t a perfectly nice guy, but with my history I always figure it’s better to be safe than sorry. It’s the same reason I haven’t touched the champagne he brought me. Again, I don’t think he did anything to it, but a girl can never be too careful with a guy she doesn’t know.
“Want to walk?” he asks after a minute of us standing next to each other, staring out to sea.
“Yeah, sure.” Unlike him, I was smart enough to take my shoes off before I came out here so I’ve got no problem walking down the beach a little, as long as we stay in sight of the restaurant. Besides, anything is better than being inside that stuffy private room with a bunch of people who hate me, wishing the whole time for something that can never be.
“You did well in there today,” he tells me. “Most interns freak out when they get put on the hot seat, but you totally took it in stride.”
“It’s not like I had to do much except pull up some research I’d already done. It wasn’t exactly brain surgery.”
“Still, it was nice to see how calm and cool you were every time your team called on you. I was impressed.”
I was calm and cool mostly because I was too out of it to care, so lost in my mixed feelings for Ethan that I was barely concentrating on where I was or what I was doing. It’s not something I’m proud of, and certainly not anything I plan on telling Jace when he’s complimenting my work ethic. But I’m not going to lie to myself, either—or him.
