Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
“Dad, I like him. And he said he liked you, too. He said this investor you’re talking with will screw you.”
His gaze shoots to mine. “Says the man who turned me down.”
“He only turned you down because of debt he now knows was because of Mom. He’s still interested in working with you.”
He sets his cup down again with a thud, cocoa sloshing over the sides, and he doesn’t seem to even notice. “I’m not a charity case for your new boyfriend.”
“I knew you’d think that, but do you think a man like Ethan would offer you charity, Dad?”
“He has so much money, he could throw it away and still be filthy rich, and yet he didn’t want in on my business. But he does now that he’s sleeping with my daughter.”
“He’s rich because he’s careful with his money. And he also believes character matters, and now he knows yours through me. He also realizes it had a small view. He wants to invest in you, Dad, and do so fairly. Don’t be prideful. Please consider this. He can come talk to you now, and—”
“No. No.”
“Okay. We’re here another day.”
“And then what? You’re traveling the world with him?” There’s a whip to his tone. He is not pleased.
“New York, so he can deal with a family problem, and then Paris. I’ll be staying with him in both places.”
“Just like that? You barely know him.”
“I know him enough to know I want to know more. And I know enough to know he’d help you realize all your dreams with your business. Think about it, Dad. He can meet you for lunch or dinner. Or even breakfast Friday morning, before we leave.” I reach over and squeeze his arm. “Please think about this.” I push to my feet and walk to the door, hoping he will follow, but he does not.
When I step into the Starbucks to find Ethan sitting at a corner table, the look he offers me is hopeful, but one look at my face and he’s on his feet, meeting me halfway, his hands settling on my face. “Give him time to think. You were stubborn, too. I’m certain it runs in the family.”
I almost laugh at that, but the way my father let me leave without so much as a goodbye is gut-wrenching. It’s almost as if I had to choose between him and Ethan, and in his mind, I already made that choice. “You want to walk or ride back to your place?” Ethan asks.
“Let’s ride. My stomach—it doesn’t feel good. I don’t feel very good at all.”
He studies me, his gaze a probe that cuts. “You’re very upset.”
“Of course, I am. I think he thinks I chose you over him. There doesn’t seem to be an option that ends in I choose both of you.”
“That’s not reality. You don’t have to choose. Stay here.” With that, he steps around me and starts walking toward the door.
I whip around as I watch him head the direction of my father’s house, my heart skipping a beat.
What is he doing? No. No. No. I race forward and after him.
Chapter Thirty-One
Sofia
Iam never going to catch up to Ethan.
There’s a huge group entering Starbucks as I attempt to exit, crowding the doorway, and as they file in, I’m forced to wait. And wait some more. The delay feels eternal, the coffee shop stuffy. My nerves frazzled, but as these new customers greet me with smiles and apologies, I somehow offer them proper manners, even mustering a curve to my lips. My parents didn’t raise a heathen, but then they might have raised the girl who is about to kill Ethan Dalton.
When I finally step outside, the night air is cool, fall scenting the air with amber and oak, my skin cooling even if my temper has not, nor is my path any less obstructed. Paul is parked right in front of the walkway, and for a moment, I think Ethan is inside. In the next, I fear he’s become frustrated and decided to leave without me, which is illogical, but I still hurry forward, anxious for confirmation one way or the other. I pull open the rear door, and Ethan is not there. “Where is he?” My voice is urgency and demand I cannot quell.
Paul’s brow furrows. “I don’t know. He told me you needed a ride.”
My heart is thundering in my chest with such fierceness my head spins, but I still manage to slam the door shut, already forming a plan in my mind. I’m going after Ethan. I’m going to stop him before he does something we’ll both regret. I dart around the rear of the SUV, seeking the pedestrian walkway and praying Ethan is headed to my father’s place just as surely as I pray he is not. A car passes through the space between me and the path to my father’s house, and I want to scream as I’m halted once again. Finally, I’m on the sidewalk to his street, and I can see Ethan in the distance, relief and panic washing over me. He’s not gone, but he is planning to talk to my father. I want to shout out, but my throat is dry and raw, and it’s too late anyway. He’s at the gate. He’s entering the garden. I settle into a fast walk. What good is running? It’s too late. When I reach my father’s house, Ethan is gone—inside the house, I assume. I don’t even consider going to the door. Instead, I claim the curb and sit on the concrete ledge where I wait, wondering what the heck Ethan is doing, as angry as I am fretful. What is he thinking? Why would he do this? A full ten minutes pass before the door opens and shuts.