"What's going to happen with the job? Are you still going to do it on Friday?"
"Well, Mick and I have been talking about that all day. He thinks I should still do it. After all, why should I lose a huge modeling contract just because the CEO is a stalker? Plus, Mick thinks I could even pressure him into paying me more money to keep what happened quiet."
"You probably could. The owner of a huge company like that wouldn't want the negative publicity, and if you sued him, you could get a fortune."
"I don't feel right doing that. It feels sleazy, like blackmail. I'd rather just do the modeling job I was contracted for and earn the money I'd been promised legally and honestly. Besides, I love the work and this could be the big break that launches my career up to a whole new level — if I even still have the job."
"Do you think Ethan would fire you over what happened?"
"He may. The whole thing got pretty ugly. I told him he was a sicko and that if I ever saw him again, I would call the police. Then, I pushed him in the chest over and over until I shoved him right out the door. I don't see how he couldn't fire me."
"Well, until you get it in actual writing, just act like the job is yours and go to the shoot on Friday. You earned that cover spot, and you might as well do it. I have to ask, though, what on earth caused Ethan to punch Mick in the first place?"
"Mick and I were having an argument over money. I guess it got pretty loud. When Ethan came to see me, he heard it and literally broke the door down. Mick had his hands on my shoulders, and Ethan pulled him off me and punched him in the face. I guess he was protecting me. Mick can be pretty intense when he's angry, but Ethan was calm and in control. It was pretty impressive the way he burst in and knocked Mick flat on his ass, and for a moment, I was relieved to see him.
“Then, when I found out Ethan had come over because he'd been obsessing over me, I felt scared. The things he said were really intense, and I could see from the look in his eyes that he meant them. No one has ever thought about me that much, not even Mick or my own family, so why would this stranger? It scared me, and I suddenly wanted to get as far away from him as I could. I wanted to get back to what I used to. To what was normal."
"What's that? Being utterly ignored?" Sam was joking, but her words hit the mark a little too accurately. In my drunken state, I started to feel sick and little sad.
"Mick doesn't ignore me." I sounded sullen in my defensiveness. "He loves me. We're going to get married just as soon as we get the money."
"I know you are. Mick's a great guy. He's really supportive of your career, at least, a lot more than most guys would be. I wish I had a guy like that."
"I know. He takes care of my money for me. He always tries to get me the best deals for my contracts. He's the best."
In that moment, I couldn't help but think about how Mick was always pushing me to do things I didn't want to do, like get naked for photoshoots, or even trade sex for money. He had even been willing to prostitute me to Ethan earlier that day. Normally, the thought of being treated like a whore made me shiver, but in Ethan's case, he had so much charisma, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing.
Oh, shit. Now I knew I'd had too much to drink. Sam had been handing me all the alcoholic beverages men had been buying for her that evening, and I'd been drinking them. Now the room was spinning in circles and it was clearly time for me to go home.
"Listen, I have to get back to the apartment. Mick will be waiting for me. He hates being left home alone. He needs me to do all the cooking, cleaning, and make all the money to pay our bills. He'd be lost without me, and that's why we're perfect for each other," I said, hearing the slur in my own words as I clutched at the bar, trying to keep upright.
"I'll have the bartender call you a cab," Sam said. "I want to stay a little longer and see if I can meet my prince charming."
"You will. There's a prince for you out there, too. Someone handsome, rich, and brave, with a sexy smile and stormy eyes. Someone who will take care of you, who worries about your safety, and doesn't drive too fast or leave you alone. Someone who makes you feel alive, beautiful, and free. Someone who is patient and kind
, and allows you to learn at the pace that's comfortable for you, while still encouraging you to push the limits and try new things.
“Someone who takes the time to want to know everything about you, even memorizing your résumé and the lines of your portfolio. Someone who will fight his way through a locked door if he thinks you're in danger. Someone who will drive all the way across town just to make sure you get an important message and is truly disappointed if he thinks he won't get to see you. Someone whose every thought is of you."
I didn't realize what I was even talking about anymore, just that Ethan's face was in my mind as Sam helped me to a cab and gave the driver my address. When I got home, I saw that Mick had repaired our apartment door and was sleeping on the couch, surrounded by beer cans. I crashed into bed alone, dreaming of motorcycles and princes, and someone I never knew I wanted.
Chapter Seven
Ethan
"Are you alone? I had hoped you would bring a date." My Mother peered around me as if she expected someone else to be standing on the front porch beside me.
I bit my tongue and refused to make the retort that was burning the inside of my mouth. If my father hadn't been standing beside her, I would have said it: “No, Mother; having dates over has always been your thing, not mine.” But the cruel reminder of her many infidelities would have hurt my Dad too much, and she had already done that enough. I never understood why he took her back after she abandoned us, but I wanted to support him in any decisions he made, so even after all these years, I kept silent.
"Welcome home, son." Dad hugged me warmly, and I returned the embrace. He was thin now, gaunt from the sick liver he'd gotten from being an alcoholic. A lot of people said I should stop trying to fix him, that it was up to him to heal himself, but I always blamed my Mother. If she hadn't broken his heart all those years ago, the rest of his organs wouldn't have followed suit.
Now he had liver damage, just one kidney, and his eyes were failing him. Soon, I'd have to pay for him to have around the clock care, and Mom would be free to have her lovers over in broad daylight without him even knowing. It was just another reminder why I was determined to stay single: marriage killed, it was a plain and simple fact. I was never going to let a woman have my heart and destroy me like my father had let my mother do — even someone as mesmerizing as Kayla Brandt.
"Dinner is ready. We were wondering if we should start without you, since you're late again as usual," my mother chided as we entered the dining room of the house I bought for them and sat down at the elegantly laid table.
"Sorry, I had a problem at work that required my attention."
Mother looked vaguely concerned as the maid served our plates. "Nothing wrong with the new motorcycle line, I hope. What are you calling it? U.S.A?"