“You’re teasing me.” I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Maybe a little,” he admitted with a shrug. “So what were you interviewing for?”
“Draganov Financial,” I said, not really wanting him to dig into this subject.
“What do you want to do?”
I considered saying something along the lines of “Absolutely nothing at my Dad’s company,” but I decided that was probably a little too much information at this point.
“I’m looking into one of the assistant executive positions,” I finally said. “I graduate next month with my master’s in accounting and business administration.”
“Oh,” he said. He scowled down at the table and started fiddling with the napkin-wrapped silverware.
A big guy dressed in all white stopped by the table just then, calling out in lightly accented phrases.
“Ethan! Good to see you again!”
“Hey, Alfero,” Ethan said, standing up and shaking the guy’s hand. “I’d like you to meet Ashlyn.”
“Wonderful to meet you, Ashlyn,” he said, taking my hand and shaking it lightly. “Watch out for this one; he’s a charmer.”
I smiled and looked away, trying to force myself not to blush. I probably wasn’t successful. When I glanced back at Ethan, I saw he was blushing as well, so I decided not to worry about it too much.
“Do you know what you want tonight?” Alfero asked, looking at me.
“Umm…I’m not sure yet,” I said, looking down at the menu for the first time. “Ethan? What are you getting?”
“I want a caprese salad,” Ethan said. “And a margarita pizza, bruschetta, the fettuccini Alfredo and a Coke. You got vanilla gelato today?”
“Of course,” Alfero responded. “I made it this afternoon.”
/> “Vanilla gelato for dessert.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Are you going to eat all of that?”
“Nah,” Ethan said. “I like everything, so I can never pick what I want. I take the leftovers to CeeCee and Gwen.”
I shook my head at him, trying to figure out what the heck I had gotten myself into with this guy. I glanced over the menu once more and decided on the eggplant Parmesan.
“Are you in school?” I asked when Alfero left with our order.
“No,” Ethan said. He didn’t look at me and didn’t seem to be prepared to elaborate. Just as I was about to change the subject, he spoke up again. “I had to drop out.”
“Oh.”
“I got hurt in high school,” he said, shrugging again. “I did a lot of track and field, mostly pole vaulting. I hit my head coming down when I was sixteen and ended up in a coma for a couple of days. I spent about a month in the hospital before I could go home. I have trouble reading now. All right, that’s not really true. I can’t read now, which made college pretty much impossible. I tried using someone to read everything to me, but it was just too cumbersome.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, not sure how to respond.
“It’s okay,” he said. The corners of his mouth turned up, but it didn’t hit his eyes this time. “I graduated from high school, at least.”
“How old are you?” I asked, immediately regretting the question.
“Does it matter?” he asked.
“A little,” I said. I tried to laugh it off. “I mean, can you at least buy me a drink?”