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I open my mouth to answer, but Shayla butts in.
“Leon and I are planning a spring wedding. Already have the colors picked out and my dress ordered. I hope to get a twelve-piece orchestra to play, but we’re still working out the minor details. It’s gonna be a dream come true. Right, honey?” She turns to Leonard, who’s busy on his phone.
“Uh yeah,” he says, and she elbows him in the ribs.
“Have you planned anything yet?” Shayla asks me.
“Not yet,” I say, closing the menu. “But I don’t want anything too extravagant. Something simple and intimate. There’s no reason to show off. The most important part is getting to spend the rest of our lives with each other.”
Her jaw falls open, just as Ethan nods in agreement.
“So y’all have been friends since you were kids?” Patricia asks Ethan as the rest of the table mingles.
“Yes, ma’am. But I always knew deep down Harper was the girl for me. When she decided to give me a chance, I knew I’d never let her go. And trust me, Harper’s a hard woman to catch because she’s so invested in her business. I’m so lucky to get to spend the rest of my life with someone who’s as caring, loving, and beautiful as Harper.” Ethan grabs my hand and kisses my knuckles, and heat rushes through me.
I lose my ability to speak and think, but thankfully, the subject is changed when the waiter begins taking orders.
Someone asks Shayla a question about her business, and she happily answers. Then another question comes her way. “Where did you come up with the idea of snowcone scents for your soaps?”
I stiffen.
“Oh, I think she got that idea from Harper,” Ethan blurts out before she can respond.
The table grows eerily quiet.
“Excuse me?” Shayla gives him a death glare.
“Well yeah, Harper announced that before summer in her exclusive newsletter. I’m sure you saw it. I mean, my sweetheart doesn’t mind people being inspired by her. What’s that saying again?” Ethan glances at me then smirks. “Imitation is the greatest form of flattery. At this point, Harper is burstin’ at the seams with flattery.”
Shayla’s eyes are as wide as saucers, and I can almost see the steam billowing out of her ears.
She stands and slams her napkin on the table. “I need to quickly excuse myself before I say something I regret,” she snarls, then looks at her fiancé. “Leon.” Startled, he gets up and follows her out.
For a moment, everyone looks at us, and I can feel my heart racing. Adrenaline courses through me, but I can’t stop smiling at her being called out.
Before I can say anything, the waiter returns, and I order another glass of wine.
“I’ll take another whiskey too,” Ethan adds.
Shayla returns after twenty minutes, still heated, but doesn’t dare look in our direction or speak. I prefer it this way and act as though she doesn’t exist.
When our food arrives, Bruce becomes the center of attention as we eat. He chats about keeping a healthy work/family balance and how to support your partner. Everything he talks about hits me right in the heart, and it’s undeniable that we check all the boxes of being supportive to each other. He’s been there with me through the good, bad, and the ugly. He’s been my rock and has celebrated my successes as well as helped me get over my failures. The more Bruce talks, the more obvious it is that Ethan and I would be a perfect couple. I try to push the thoughts away and not drown in them, but what’s boiling inside is undeniable.
Soon, we’re saying our goodbyes, and Ethan holds me close as we stroll back to the hotel.
“Thank you,” I say as we wait for the elevator.
“For what?”
“For always having my back,” I tell him.
Ethan carefully cups my cheek in his palm, bends down, and brushes his mouth against mine. I wish we were alone and that the emotion he put behind this kiss was real. Before it can deepen, the elevator doors slide open.
We ride in silence, and I replay everything that’s happened along with all the revelations I’ve had.
By the time we make it to our room, I’m exhausted. Between the conference and being on the defense, it’s been a long day. I remove my makeup and change into my pajamas, then climb under the covers. Ethan puts on a pair of joggers, no shirt, and I can’t help but notice how his muscles ripple down his stomach. As he turns off the bedside lamp, I swallow hard. My body is tired, and while I want to sleep, my mind races.
Is it possible to want Ethan this damn much? Or is my head playing tricks on me?
“Harper?” Ethan asks in a near whisper.
“Yeah?”
“Go to sleep,” he says, but I can tell he’s smiling.
