by Susan Hatler
He stopped in front of the first exhibit. “If he was a weasel who’d deceived her, and she’d found out he was married? I’d mind.”
My jaw nearly dropped at his hard tone. And had he really just used me as an example girlfriend? “Well, clearly she’d be crazy to want that,” I said.
“If he’d treated her right, but they didn’t mesh long-term? I wouldn’t have a problem with them catching up. But, that’s just me.” He shrugged. “What do you think of this hat?”
My mind reeled from Ethan’s harsh reference to Jake. I’d never heard Ethan speak so passionately about something before. Not even Italian history, which he loved.
I swallowed, then read the placard on the exhibit he’d asked about. “The green plaited straw bonnet dating back to the 1800s? It’s gorgeous. And looks similar to a hat I wore boating last weekend.”
He turned my way with a curious look. “Where’d you go boating?”
“On Folsom Lake.” I scooted down to the next exhibit, which was a brown straw bonnet with an adorable ribbon trim. “This I love, too. If I’d been alive two centuries ago, I’d totally have bought it. Wait, it’s for sale at two grand. Ouch. Makes the sun hat I bought at the mall sound like a steal.”
He chuckled, and gestured to the typed explanation next to the price. “It’s not for sale. This hat is part of the museum’s Adopt-an-Artifact program. You pay two grand to sponsor the cost of preserving the artifact for future generations to see.”
“Cool program.” I sidestepped down to the next item, which was a horse hair woven hat. “This one’s fifteen-hundred bucks. If I could afford it, I’d donate to conserve this one. But, since I’m currently answer phones for a living, it’s slightly over my budget.”
He raised his brows, as if concerned. “What happened to your practice?”
“I’ve taken a sabbatical the last couple months.” Once again, my stomach bubbled with worry over my low bank balance. “The lease on my office expires in less than two weeks, and I’ve decided not to renew. I’m searching for a new career.”
I wondered what the job description of a conservationist entailed. . . .
Ethan turned, and faced me straight on. “Why would you do that? You love your work.”
“It’s a long story . . .” My voice trailed off, making it obvious I wasn’t going to talk about it. Too depressing. “I enrolled in career counseling yesterday. They have multiple questionnaires and assignments, so I’ll find something else.”
I hoped.
“Let me know if I can help.” He didn’t push, but the double line between his brows remained. “Back to your friend. How does she feel about her boyfriend visiting with his ex?”
“Not too thrilled.” Why do men need to hang out with their ex, anyway? When did one woman stop being enough?
He scooted down to the next display. “Is her boyfriend not a stand-up guy?”
“He seems like he is, but I told her to be smart about it. You know, in case he’s hiding something.” My heart ached as I recalled Rachel’s worried expression after lunch.
Ethan raised his brows, but didn’t respond.
“What?” I pursed my lips. “You think I should’ve told her to trust blindly, like a sitting duck? I don’t want her to get screwed over like I did.”
He slid his arm around my shoulders. “I’m sorry.”
Two simple words, but I’d never been more confused by a sentence. “For what?”
He gazed down at me earnestly. “For how Jake betrayed you. You didn’t deserve that.”
I fought the burn behind my eyes. “I’m over it.”
He put a finger under my chin, and tilted my face up to him. “It’s okay if you’re not, you know.”
His eyes captured mine, and my breath caught in my throat. He had that intense and passionate look he gets when he’s completely focused, except, this time, it was on me. Held captive in his gaze, my worries faded away and the only thing occupying my mind was Ethan. The air thickened between us, and I felt an emotional cord pulling me toward him.
Suddenly, an elderly couple pushed up next to us, their loud voices bringing the world around me back into focus. Everything seemed messy and difficult again.
“I’m fine, Ethan. But thanks for asking.” I quickly stepped away from him, and turned my attention to the next exhibit. When I felt him come up beside me, my heart pounded against my chest in long, steady beats.
He leaned toward my ear. “I have something I want to show you.”
“Oh, really?” My mind zipped to all kinds of inappropriate images.
The corners of his mouth lifted. “It’s a huge secret I’ve never shown anyone before.”
Okay, unless Ethan was a virgin, we were definitely thinking of different things. “Tell me.”
He turned so we were facing each other, his eyes sizzling with excitement. “First, you have to promise never to tell another living soul about this.”
Talk about piquing my curiosity.
“I promise,” I said, glancing at his pockets, which seemed empty. “Where is it?”
With a mysterious smile, he clasped his hand around mine, and led me toward the exit. “My place.”
I gulped. His place?
This was so not a good idea.
Unable to resist, I hurried along beside him.
Chapter Three
Fifteen minutes later, I pulled into Ethan’s driveway in East Sacramento—a neighborhood I adored for its charming custom homes, many of which were built almost a century ago. Someday, I’d love to turn my condo into a rental and buy a house in a cozy neighborhood like this.
If I figured out a new career, that is.
Ethan’s house was an English-style cottage, and I parked behind his detached single-car garage, as instructed. We got out of our cars at the same time, and he pressed a remote to close his garage door as we walked toward the arched, wood, front door.
“Wow, Ethan.” His home had a darling, simple facade—painted light-brown with dark-brown shutters, and white-paned windows. Neatly trimmed bushes lined either side of the front of the porch, their pink blossoms giving off a sweet, honeysuckle scent. “Your house is beautiful, and the flowers smell amazing.”
“Thanks.” He fiddled with his keys, then put it in the lock. “I’d like to take credit, but I have a gardener.”
Gardening, huh? Not too much personal judgment, and I’d be making the world a prettier place. But, then again, it’d kill my manicure. Not worth it.
Feeling a little nervous, I followed Ethan inside where the entry opened up into his living room. Everything was tastefully decorated, simple, and comfortable.
“Make yourself at home.” Ethan gestured toward a large cushy sofa with a matching loveseat. “You hungry at all?”
It was almost eight o’clock, and I’d had dinner before meeting Ethan in Old Sac. “I ate earlier. Thanks, though.”
“Would you like a glass of wine?”
“Love one.” After the day I’d had, I could use the whole bottle. I found myself wandering over to the mantel, which was lined with various picture frames. “Mind if I check out your photos?”
“Sure, go ahead,” he called from the kitchen.
I started on the left, picking up a framed photo of Ethan and a group of guys on a boat. I recognized the background with its vast sapphire-blue water enveloped with the brown mountain cascade, splattered with vibrant green pine tress. “This was taken in Tahoe. Right?”
“Yep.” He returned, holding empty wine glasses in one hand, and an unopened bottle in the other. “The two guys on the left are associates at my law firm. We own the boat together.”
“Sounds fun.” I set the frame back on the wooden mantel, turned, and accepted the glass he held out. Remembering the serene feeling as we glided across the lake last weekend, I smiled. “Being on the water is so peaceful and relaxing. I love it.”
“Then I’ll have to take you.” He twisted the wine opener into the cork, then pulled the stopper out with a lit
tle pop. “The weather forecast is nice this weekend. How about Saturday?”
“Saturday’s my birthday.” I was turning thirty and seriously hoped the next decade would start better than this one ended. “A bunch of us are going up to Folsom Lake if you’d like to save the date.”
The invitation slipped out, and I held my breath.
“Absolutely.” He smiled, his gorgeous brown eyes twinkling, then he filled our wine glasses. “I can bring my boat if you’d like.”
“Sure, if you don’t mind. With a large group, two boats would be better than one.” My stomach fluttered at the thought of Ethan coming, and I immediately felt guilty. This must be why I blurted, “You should totally bring Dana, of course.”
His brows furrowed. “Why?”
I stared at him blankly. “Don’t you want to?”
“No.” He shrugged. “She has a life of her own, just like I do.”
Shocked, I fought to keep my jaw from dropping to the floor. The way he spoke, it sounded like they led separate lives. Not at all how I pictured Ethan in a relationship. Weird.
And disconcerting, for that matter.
He lifted his glass, and his eyes lit with excitement. “Are you ready for the secret?”
When he clinked his glass into mine, I took a sip so long, I’d need a refill shortly. Tucking my hair behind my ear, I wandered back toward the mantel. “I’m feeling weird about this whole secret thing.”
His took a step toward me. “Why?”
I guffawed. “Because you said nobody else knows.”
A confused look crossed his face. “I trust you.”
His words warmed my insides, so I turned away from him, fingering the frames on his mantel. “Does Dana know about the secret?”
He set his wine glass on the coffee table, then put a finger under my chin to tilt my face toward his. “Kristen, what’s going on? Why do you keep asking about Dana?”
With his deep brown eyes peering into mine, butterflies went wild in my belly—which was so wrong I made an exasperated sound. “It just matters. A lot.”
He shook his head, like he didn’t get it, then he finally said, “Yes. She knows about it.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Instead of relief flowing through me, my chest ached with jealousy.
“Wait a minute.” He made an incredulous sound. “Do you think Dana and I are dating?”
Suddenly, my eyes came to rest on a silver framed photo—of Ethan and Dana. Without thinking, I picked up the picture of them. “Well, aren’t you?”
“No.” His voice was deadpan. “Dana is my sister.”
It was an honest miracle I didn’t drop the frame. If Dana was Ethan’s sister, then my judgment had been way off. Like light years off—again. Then, tingles sprinkled up my arms as I realized what else it meant.
Ethan was single.
****
I’d barely started my workday on Tuesday, when Ellen appeared in front of my desk. She’d left me two voicemails last night (while I’d been at Ethan’s), and both were about how I needed to call Rach and reassure her she had nothing to worry about with Noah.
No sugarcoating with Ellen, that’s for sure.
I gave her a warning look. “Please don’t harass me this morning. I’m exhausted.” When the phone rang, I pressed a button, and spoke into my headset, “Woodward Systems Corporation. How may I direct your call? One moment.”
It was a relocation company asking for Chloe Campbell, and my brows came together as I transferred the lady. Weird.
Ellen leveled me with her eyes. “Why didn’t you call me back last night? Gina says you were home by nine.”
“I was busy.” Busy avoiding her, that is.
When I’d arrived home after leaving Ethan’s, I’d found Gina cuddling on the couch with her boyfriend Chris, which added an extra slice and dice to my gut. If Noah might be doing who-knows-what with his ex, I didn’t want to think about what Chris could have on the side.
So, instead of calling Ellen back, my pent up feelings circled my brain, and I spent the night tossing and turning—torturing myself about how I’d mistaken Ethan’s sister for his girlfriend. Then torturing myself for hightailing it out of his house so abruptly—even before he’d been able to show me the secret, whatever it was.
Once Ethan said Dana was his sister, I’d glanced at the photo, and it was so painfully obvious. They both had thick dark hair, the same mocha-brown eyes, and even their smiles mirror each other’s—full lips turned up, revealing straight, white teeth. Lame, moronic me, couldn’t even tell a sibling from a significant other. It’s like Jake’s betrayal had flipped a switch in my brain from “on” to so completely “off.”
Ellen leaned over the reception desk so far I could smell the perfume of her favorite coconut lotion. “Rach is determined to prove to you that Noah isn’t cheating on her. She arrived two hours early to work this morning, and went through his entire office to confirm there wasn’t evidence he’s getting it on with his ex. You need to fix the mess you created, Kristen.”
I’d totally fix things for Rach if I knew how. But, all I was qualified to do right now was answer phones. “You do realize I chose this job because it’s supposed to be stress-free?”
She steeled her eyes. “I’m your best friend, Kristen. I’ve known you for fifteen years—since you found me crying under the bleachers over Doug Saunders, who’d dumped me after I’d let him get to second base.”
“That louse,” I said, remembering Ellen’s first broken heart.
She nodded. “Do you remember what you said to me?”
The words echoed in my brain as if I’d just said them. “Move on, girl. He’s not worth it.”
“Words to live by.” She twisted her head, but her eyes stayed with me. “Your advice about Noah, however, is so off-base, it’s scary.”
My computer let out a beep, alerting me I had incoming mail. So, I raised a finger at Ellen, and turned to my screen:
Kristen,
I’m expecting a very important call from my husband. If I’m on another line, please have someone interrupt me.
Thank you,
Chloe
I quickly typed back an affirmative response, then hit SEND.
Relocation company. Urgent call from her husband. Hmmm. . . .
Ellen tapped her fingernails against the counter. “I miss my sweet, caring friend, who always gives us awesome advice and who gives people the benefit of the doubt. You need to move on girl. He’s not worth it.”
Remembering last night with Ethan, I shook my head. “That girl is gone. You know how I told you that Ethan was in a serious relationship? Turns out that girl I saw him with was his sister.”
Her eyes bulged. “Are you serious?”
My throat tightened, and I fought to keep my expression level. “Like I’d joke about the way I can no longer read people.”
The door behind me opened, and Rich Woodward, the president of the software company, strode in wearing a dark suit with a green tie. We both waved to him, and put on serious expressions as if he’d buy that we were discussing work.
Riiiight.
Ellen gave me a look, then whispered. “I’d better get back upstairs.”
I nodded, flicking my eyes to where Rich had just exited the building.
Ellen paused at the door to the back, then said in a stern voice, “Apologize to Rach. At lunch.” She raised a finger at me. “Or else.”
I sighed, having no idea what to say to Rach. “I have something else to take care of at lunch, but I’ll think about what to tell her.”
I used to know exactly how people could improve their situations, and never hesitated helping them. Now, I didn’t have a clue.
The expiring lease on my cozy office in midtown flashed in my mind, piercing my chest. But, what could I do? My confidence in accessing human behavior was gone. I needed to move on to a new career. And I had the feeling an excellent position at Woodward Systems Corp was about to become available.
****
I got off the elevator on the second floor, hurrying toward Noah’s office when Rach stepped in front of me, blocking my path.
She put her hands on her hips. “I’ve gone through Noah’s cell phone, his filing cabinets, and his office desk. There’s no evidence he’s cheating on me. His dinner with Kate is strictly platonic.”
Under her scrutinizing gaze, I forced a smile. “Good. I’m glad.”
Her right brow lifted. “Admit you were wrong about him.”
I held my palms up. “I never said he was cheating.”
“But you said it’s a possibility, and it’s not.” Her voice wavered. “Noah would never do that to me.”
My gut tightened. Noah didn’t seem like the type to stray, but I wasn’t going to assure her of his fidelity when I didn’t know for sure. “Rach, this is your relationship. You’re the one who needs to feel secure. It shouldn’t matter what I think.”
She huffed, then strode toward the elevator.
I’d given her my best advice, but apparently that had been the wrong thing. Shocker. In addition, the frustrating exchange had taken a bite out of my lunch hour, and I had research to do.
Shaking my head, I continued down the hall, then knocked on the open door to Noah’s office. “Hey, Noah. Still all right that I use your computer during lunch?”
“Yep.” He gathered his belongings, then gestured toward his desk. “I’m meeting a client uptown, so it’s all yours.”
“Thanks.” I slid into the plush leather chair, pulled the keyboard closer, then brought up a search engine page. I had less than an hour to figure out if Chloe Campbell was about to give notice.
“No problem.” Noah walked toward the door, paused, then closed it. “Can I ask you something?”
My fingers froze over the keyboard, and I lifted my lashes to find Rach’s boyfriend staring at me. Noah Peterson was tall, well built, had sandy-brown hair, and sparkling blue eyes. He wasn’t deep and layered like Ethan—Noah was more likely to discuss baseball stats than world history—but still, he was friendly, good-looking, and it was obvious why Rach had been attracted to him.
