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Chapter3
Amelia
Two Weeks Later
The last two weeks have been a whirlwind. The rest of the trip to Hawaii did not go well, except for the fact that Penelope and Charlotte made up a day later and apologized for snapping at one another. But that was the only good part.
Charlotte reached her breaking point during her parents’ reception, going off on her mom and Damien’s dad while revealing they were in a fake relationship. Someone recorded the entire thing and posted it on social media. Luckily for her, the feedback was actually positive when people related to what she was going through, but then she fought herself for the last two weeks over how to move on in her life, ultimately admitting that she’s in love with Damien, which we already knew. Tonight she’s supposed to meet up with him to apologize, so I made sure to send her a good luck text as soon as my last client left for the day.
Things are starting to go back to normal—at least as normal as they were before Ethan moved into the office across the courtyard. A part of me is wondering how long this little avoidance act I’ve been doing will last before I have to face the fact that the man opened his practice right next to me, completely negating what I’m trying to accomplish in my line of work.
I've made it my mission to dodge him as much as possible in the past two weeks, which wasn’t too hard between my trip to Hawaii and then getting back to work. He also seemed to be MIA last week for the Fourth of July, making it even easier to avoid him. I heard him laughing with a client outside of his office a few nights this week, in which I spied on him from behind the curtain on my office door. But other than that, we haven’t really crossed paths and I’m hoping that our interactions remain like this—limited or barely existent.
Now, it’s a Friday night, and my last client left about an hour ago. Penelope, who works in P.R., didn’t have any fancy restaurant or club opening for us to go to. So it’s a rare evening when I can relax at home, enjoy the sunset on my patio with a mojito in my hand, probably go for a swim in my pool, and relish in the beautiful summer evening on this warm July night.
Sometimes those nights when I get to enjoy my own company are some of my favorite and the most peaceful.
After my last client leaves for the day, I like to unwind and finish up paperwork by putting music on in the background. As I take off my jacket and move to hang it on the hook behind my desk, “Hello” by Adele begins playing from my Bluetooth speaker, so I immediately start singing along. One of my secret fantasies is to be a famous singer. Even though that is not even close to how I want my life to end up, when a song comes on that I know I can belt out flawlessly, I do and pretend I’m performing at the Grammys after winning Best New Artist.
What can I say? We all have our unrealistic dreams, am I right?
I nail the first three words of the famous song, aiming to hit every note flawlessly as it continues to play.
“Hello?” I hear come from behind, making me jump.
“Ah!” Reaching forward, I press pause on my speaker and then look over my shoulder to find the last person I anticipated. “Ethan? What are you doing here?”
“Was that you singing?” he asks, ignoring my question.
“Um, yes.” I can instantly feel my cheeks heat up, so I turn my face away from him. “You scared the crap out of me. How long were you listening?”
“Long enough to know that you shouldn’t quit your day job.”
Annoyance begins to build in my veins. “Well, I never asked for your opinion, so it’s completely unwarranted.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I twist to face him head-on. “Can I help you? Or were you just looking for some entertainment on your Friday night? If that’s the case, there’s a strip club down the street where I’m sure you could pick up plenty of married men looking to leave their wives instead of working on their problems.”
Ethan’s smile builds as he assesses me. “That’s not a bad idea, actually, so thanks.” His eyes move around the room, judging every inch of my office. “Your office looks like the inside of a house.”
“Thank you. That’s what I was going for.”
“That wasn’t a compliment,” he says over his shoulder as he looks at the artwork on the walls.
“Again, is there a reason why you’re here?”
“Haven’t seen you in a while. Have you been avoiding me?”
“I didn’t realize that it was required of us to cross paths.”
He grins. “It’s not, but I’ve also seen you run in the other direction once you see me across the courtyard, so I thought I’d come investigate for myself.”
“Your detective skills are subpar then since there’s nothing for you to discover. And not that I need to explain myself, but I’m a fast walker by nature. I pride myself on being efficient in multiple aspects of my life.”
“Hmmm,” he hums. “So sex with you must be on a schedule then, huh?”
My jaw drops open. “What?”
“I’m sure you have it penciled in your calendar too.” He changes the octave of his voice. “Sex on Thursday at eight-thirty sharp. Five minutes for foreplay, ten minutes for penetration, and if my orgasm doesn’t arrive within that fifteen minutes, then my boyfriend can finish, and I’ll just roll over and go to sleep so it doesn’t take time from that.”
Seething, I can feel my nostrils flare as I stalk across the room to him. “You have a lot of nerve coming in here, judging my space, insinuating that you know me at all.”
“You probably love the missionary position too, huh, Dr. St. Clair? It must be hard to convince people that sex can save their marriage when you don’t even know how to have fun in the bedroom yourself.”
I clench my teeth, seconds away from smacking him. But the way his eyes are bouncing back and forth between mine makes me think that perhaps he wants me to. He’s looking for a reaction from me, and even though part of me wants nothing more than to put him in his place, I am a professional and will not give him that satisfaction. So instead, I pull a therapist move on him.
Calmly, I roll my shoulders back and take a few steps toward him. Reaching down, I pick up one of my business cards off the table by the entryway and hold it out to him.
“What is this?”
“What does it look like? It’s my business card. Should you prefer to discuss your needs to ridicule my love life or contemplate just exactly how I behave in bed, I would prefer to do so in a setting where we can discuss just exactly why it is that you feel the need to wonder about those things in the first place.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. And then, at least that way, if I have to listen to your asshole remarks, I’ll be handsomely paid while doing so.” I flash him a tight-lipped smile, and all he does is grin back at me in return.
“I’m impressed, Amelia. Perhaps you’re a little tougher than I pegged you to be.”
“You can think whatever you’d like about me, Mr. Fuller. But until you can approach me respectfully, I would appreciate you staying the hell out of my office.”
With a curt nod, he heads for the door. “Just promise me one thing, Amelia?” I don’t entertain his question with a response. “When your clients realize that trying to save a troubled marriage is pointless, please point them in my direction across the hall. I can leave a map for them if need be.”
“That won’t be necessary. But if your clients ever feel the need to process what a disgusting human being their divorce attorney is, I would be more than glad to offer them my services to deal with trauma as well.”
He laughs and then opens the door. “Have a good weekend, Amelia. You’re going to need it.”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I watch him walk out of my office, wondering what he meant by his final words. However, I don’t dwell on it for too long, immediately moving to the door to lock it after him. Releasing the breath I was holding, I hold my hand out in front of me to assess how badly I’m shaking.
That man is an ass and an arrogant prick. After his idle promise, I’m wondering if I haven’t seen the worst of him. The thing that irritates me more than anything, though, is that he’s so damn attractive, my mind and my body are at war over what to do with him. Perhaps only time will tell what will be the best way to handle Ethan Fuller.
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