I climbed out of the shower to find that Margie had left a pile of big, fluffy towels for me. I wrapped one around my wet hair and the other around my body and went in search of my clothes. That's when I ran right into Ethan, standing in the doorway of my dressing room, holding my jeans and tee-shirt on a hanger.
"I believe these belong to you," he said, flashing that incredible smile.
"Thanks," I said curtly and swiped the hanger from him quickly with a long reach of my arm, not wanting to get too close to him. Then, with my eyes cast down at the floor, I continued softly, "Thanks for what you did today. I would have been fired if it hadn't been for your help."
"The great job today was all you; I just helped you get past your own head and into the emotion of the bike. That's what sells motorcycles: the feeling riders get from being out in the open air. I knew you could convey that all-American feeling of being free with your natural beauty and easy smile — you just needed to relax enough to do it."
"Well, thank you. I wasn't sure I'd still have a job after what happened..." I didn't need to finish the sentence. We both knew I was talking about the scene at my apartment.
"I wasn't sure you'd still show up for the job, but I'm really glad you did. I needed to know that you were alright."
"Of course, I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be?"
"It seemed like you two were having a pretty intense argument. I was worried he might be hurting you, and when I came in, he had his hands on you. Does he ever get physically abusive with you?"
"How can you ask me that? Mick and I are in love. He would never hurt me, and if I recall, you were the barbarian who started punching people and ripped our door apart."
I expected Ethan to at least apologize for that, but he didn't. Nothing but a long silence filled the air between us until he finally broke it. He took my hand in his and gently rubbed the back of it with his thumb. When his eyes stared intently into mine, I felt as if they were penetrated through to my very soul.
In a voice that was quiet, and yet powerfully strong, he said to me "You don't have to put up with less than you deserve. I'll protect you and provide for you. I can satisfy your every need, even the desires you don't even know you have yet. Let me be the one to take care of you."
My heart melted in that moment, my knees quivered, and I felt a wave a dizziness wash over me, but I shook it off and forced myself to stand strong. What was this dream I was being offered by this incredible man?
Mick had seemed like a dream when I'd first met him, too, and the waking reality turned out to be far more disappointing, but he was my fiancé, and didn't that mean I owed him my loyalty even if he was far from perfect?
I pulled my hand back and said, "I have a boyfriend. He'll take care of me."
"That's not being a boyfriend, and that's not taking care of someone. Call me when you see the truth; anytime, anywhere, I'll be there for you."
Ethan pulled a card from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, scribbled his personal cell number on the back, and handed it to me. Then he exited the room with a swift bow, leaving me standing there, wrapped in nothing but a towel and feeling stunned.
I put on my clothes mechanically and took the long bus ride home, but I was still in a daze as I walked up the steps to our apartment.
Ethan was so sexy, intelligent, and interesting. I felt a real connection when I was with him, and that afternoon we sat talking under the oak tree was the first time I'd really felt happy in a long time. He had listened to what I had to say, and I could tell he really wanted to get know me as a person. He made me feel beautiful, not as a sex object to be used, but as a human being. I wanted more of it. Plus, he cared enough about me to want to protect me and take care of me.
Mick had never made me feel that way. All he made me feel was like he wanted to get everything from me that he could, even if that meant compromising who I was as a person. I was an object to be used by him and nothing more.
I knew it was time for Mick and me to have a long talk, but as I walked through our apartment door, what I saw changed everything in an instant and broke me from my dazed trance.
"Samantha? Mick? What's going on?" They weren't in the act of making love, but it was clear they had been. Mick was pulling up his jeans and closing the zipper, his shirt still off. My best friend was dressed in nothing but her panties and bra as she pulled her black mini-dress over her head.
"This isn't what it looks like," Mick cried out lamely, while Samantha broke into sobs.
"I'm so sorry, Kayla. It just happened," she wept. "We were celebrating his new job at the club. We had a few drinks and one thing led to another. We didn't mean for it to happen."
"Just get out," I glared at my former best friend with eyes like blades of ice. Samantha picked up her shoes and ran out the door, not yet even fully dressed as I threw her jacket (the one I'd given her for her birthday) out onto the sidewalk.
Then, I turned my anguish on Mick. "How could you do this to me? I get plenty of offers to cheat on you. In fact, I had one just today, but I turned it down out of loyalty to you."
"This was nothing more than a stupid mistake. I love you, baby. I'm really sorry. It will never happen again." He was chasing me around the living room on his knees as I tried to keep a distance between us. I didn't want the disgusting asshole anywhere near me.
"How many times?"
"None. I love you, and I can't wait to marry you. Hey, did you get paid for that modeling job? Let me have the money. We'll go down to the courthouse first thing and get married."
Instinctively, I reached for my purse, ready to hand over my hard-earned money to him just like I'd done these past three years we'd been living in L.A., but my fingers landed on the card from Ethan first and it stopped me.
What was I doing? Mick was cheater and a liar. Now he wanted the money that I had earned, and I was about to give it to him. I had been supporting him all these years while he did nothing but drink, watch television, and cheat on me. Thank God we weren't actually married yet, and thank God I'd finally seen the truth about him.