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Chapter6
Ethan
You know when you step on a piece of gum, and it attaches itself to the bottom of your shoe, then you have to stand there and drag your shoe on the ground to try to wipe it off? But rather than it coming off cleanly, it makes an even bigger mess, the strings of stickiness stretching out between the ground and your shoe that are no longer recognizable as a whole?
Well, I feel like one of those pieces of gum right now—a sticky, stringy mess and borderline piece of shit.
Yesterday, I took things too far. I tried to be a smartass to Amelia again, teasing her about hugging her clients, and damn, did she make me wish I could burrow underground and not come out until winter was over.
And I can’t even fault her for that. I was out of place. And it seems that no matter what I know in my head to be the right decision, my mouth is getting too far ahead of doing the right thing.
Like my sign spinner and chalkboard sign—a classic way to bring in business, but also a jab at her after her brochure stunt. But she hasn’t said a word about it, which tells me that I’m the immature asshole in this situation, and I can’t even fight the truth about that.
So this morning, I decided to take my chalkboard sign down and send her a peace offering—orchids. My mother always loved them, so I figured they were a safe bet. When I looked up online which ones to send, I decided on two. Yellow to symbolize friendship and new beginnings, and purple to represent admiration and respect.
The truth is I do respect her—I admire her determination, her strength, and her courage to stand up to me. And as much as I hate to admit it, she obviously takes her job very seriously, and I have to respect that as well.
But my actions and words have sent an entirely different message, and it’s time I set the record straight.
I wanted to wait to approach her after I knew the flowers had been delivered, but she never came out of her office. And now it’s almost five thirty, and I’m wondering if she slipped out without me catching her.
I’ve officially crossed the line into stalker territory, and as I peer through the blinds in my personal office that give me a view of the courtyard, a low, frustrated growl leaves my lips.
“Fuck this.” I grab my briefcase and decide to stop waiting to innocently run into her on purpose. Time to man up, apologize for my behavior in person and make things right.
“Thank you again for agreeing to pick me up here.” Amelia’s voice has my head snapping up as I walk out the front door of my office and see her finally, standing outside her office door, talking to a man. He’s tall, but not as tall as me, wearing a suit and a smile that I can only read as pure excitement from just being in Amelia’s presence.
“No problem. You were right. Battling traffic on a Friday night in Los Angeles would have taken too much time, and we wouldn’t have made our reservation.”
“Yes. My house is too far from here to keep up with the timeline.” Amelia tucks one of her curls behind her ear, revealing silver drop earrings that glimmer as the sun catches them. She’s wearing an olive-green dress that wraps around her body and cinches at her waist, highlighting her hourglass figure. It’s something she could wear to work, but then again, it’s offering a supple view of her cleavage that I’m sure she wouldn’t deem professional.
And that’s when it hits me—this man is here to pick her up for a date.
And that realization makes my stomach drop.
The man staring down at her like he just won first place at the science fair finally speaks again. “I’m just honored that you agreed to go out with me tonight.” Jesus, kissing her ass already?
“Well, I’m honored that you asked,” Amelia replies cheekily, and that’s when I decide that it’s time to make my presence known.
Clearing my throat a little louder than necessary, I catch Amelia’s attention from across the courtyard, her eyes widening as she realizes I was encroaching on their moment. But then her eyes narrow into slits, and the hatred I know she probably feels for me right now becomes more than apparent.
“Good evening,” I say, casually striding in their direction.
“Hello,” the man standing next to her says.
Amelia looks between us as I arrive just a few feet from them, so we look more like three people having a conversation than me crashing their date. “Brayden Anderson, this is Ethan Fuller. Ethan, this is Dr. Brayden Anderson.”
Throwing that doctor tag in there, huh?
I reach out to shake the man’s hand, making sure to stand up tall and make a presence with the height advantage I have on the guy. “Nice to meet you.”
Brayden intercepts my hand, a curious gleam in his eye. The man isn’t stupid and obviously knows something is up. “Likewise. Do you two know each other? Work together?”
Amelia interjects before I can. “Oh God, no. Ethan works at the law firm just over there.” She points with her finger behind me.
“Yup. I’m a divorce attorney. So while Amelia is stitching marriages back together, I’m ripping them apart. The circle of life, am I right?”
Brayden fakes a laugh. “Yeah, I guess. Well, we should really be going.”
Amelia shoots me a glare. “Yes, we should.”
“Daddy!” The pitter-patter of little feet pulls my attention to my left as Oliver runs toward me. And at that very moment, I realize that I had forgotten my mom had texted me a few hours ago saying they would be in the area, so she would just drop him off to me here.
Fuck. I was so distracted by Amelia and worrying about talking to her—which is pretty much a lost cause now that she’s leaving for a date—that I completely spaced.
“Hey, buddy.” I bend down and open my arms to catch him as he pummels into me. “How was your day?”
“I made three new friends, and I learned to read five new words, and now I’m really hungry.”
I sniff, catching the scent of lemon. “Why do you smell like lemons?”
“Because Grandma took me to the ice cream shop just now, and I got the lemon kind, Daddy.”
“Is that your new favorite flavor?” Amelia asks, pulling my sight up to her as she smiles down at my son. And at that moment, I realize she now knows my one and only weakness and a detail about my life that I always try to keep close to the chest.
“Yes! Hey, you’re the lemon lady!”
