"Yes, Nati," they chorused.
I'd let that nickname slide. This time.
We circled up in the break room, just like we had four days ago, now, when Papá had given us the bad news. It was bad news, of course, because of his health. I'd been surprised over the last few days to discover that it hadn't been the worst news for me. I was impressed with myself at how much of my business degree education came flooding back to me, as I'd gone over financials and reached out to clients. I couldn't deny that the meeting with Ethan had raised some important questions for me. But all in all, I'd been feeling more confident. I could do this. I could get The Knockout to a stable place, keep my share in it, use some of the income to hire a director for the whole facility, and use the money to resume traveling the world and pursuing my real dream - to be a stunt woman in Los Angeles.
Yeah. That was what I really wanted, after all, I'd realized. I needed my blood to pump hard and fast through my body. Nothing at The Knockout could do that for me. No matter what I did with it.
Ethan re-entered the room, now having a soft conversation with Amalia as they walked. "So are you really the only one who can make that printer behave?" Ethan asked her, and she smiled at him, taking the question as flattery. I knew what he meant. He was really asking how close the copier/printer machine was to death.
I stood, only regretting the stupid formality of my action once I realized how awkward it must have looked. But Ethan just beamed at me. The brightness of his smile almost hid the dark circles under his eyes. "You said it'd take a while,” I blurted. “Not that I'm not glad to see you, I just -"
"Just wanted to get you the numbers as quickly as I could," he said. "Now, I made copies for everyone. The first page is a breakdown of the insurance you currently have...."
“Thank you,” Rodrigo interrupted. “If we could wait until my brothers could get here, though, that would be best. At least Alejandro, Christian might be a little harder to bring in.” I glared. Christian would be impossible to bring in. He was a middle school math teacher.
“You won’t get Christian or Arturo. They’re both working. And we do not have to wait,” I growled at Rodrigo through my teeth. “In fact, my brothers are welcome to leave.”
“It’s okay,” Ethan said with a soft smile. “I don’t mind waiting.”
* * *
I fought the instinct to roll my eyes. He hadn’t gotten my meaning at all. Either that, or he was ignoring it. Both possibilities were annoying. One was infuriating.
Alejandro showed up ten minutes later, with Federal donuts in hand. I rolled my eyes at him. I was sure it was delicious, but my body was a machine. I hated putting trash in it.
Ethan led the four of us through the pages for the next twenty minutes or so, carefully explaining his findings and his recommendations for the business. I was no insurance professional, and neither were my brothers, but it was pretty clear from the expressions we shared that we all realized one thing - this news wasn't the best.
Alejandro cleared his throat when Ethan was done glossing over the papers he'd brought, claiming the first question. Asshole. "First, I want to say thank you for taking on this case. I asked Kennedy for the best guy he had available, and obviously that was who he sent."
Wait a minute. I had been the one to call Kennedy and Sousa. I had no idea that Alejandro talked to them on the side.
Ethan just nodded. "Honestly, I think Mr. Kennedy meant to take on the case, but he had some things come up. But obviously, I'm glad to help."
I jumped in. "It looks like, from all this, that we have some changes to make around here."
"Not necessarily," Ethan said. "Just some choices to make. I am concerned about the level of coverage you have versus the level of security should the market change or the building, security and communication systems, or equipment fail en masse. But there are things we can do to mitigate those risks."
I couldn't help it. A small, unrecognizable thrill went through my body at hearing Ethan say "we" while he was sitting in my business. My space. My home, sort of. It was exciting and comforting all at once, knowing he was in my corner. "Yes, but from what I've seen, your main recommendations are either to diversify and expand the business or to sell some of it off."
"That's right," Ethan said, dipping his head.
"Well, neither of those is acceptable to me." I might as well tell him the truth. I didn’t want to give up any share of this business. But adding and changing and implementing whole new layers of stuff to be in charge of wasn't going to work either.
"Nati, if you'd just -" Rodrigo broke in, while Sebastian contributed his own unintelligible argument.
"Enough," I roared. "Shut. Up. Do you boys trust me, or do you not? Did you tell me I could be in charge of this, or did you not?"
There was a beat of silence, and then Alejandro’s mouth curved up into a wide smile. "We did, Mamá."
The rest of my brothers laughed. Laughed. And my heart twisted. I knew what they meant. I sounded like our mother when she was frustrated, when she was on the brink of going nuclear- angry at all of us. And I just... missed her. I didn't know what she would do in this situation, but I did know - I could feel - that she would not have wanted all these stupid voices trying to crowd out my own instincts.
"Ethan," I said, “Please excuse me.”
“I love you guys,” I said to my brothers, “But I absolutely cannot do this with you here. Ethan is going to help me go through this step by step,” I continued, then snuck a look at him. “I-If you can, that is,” I added, realizing I’d just assumed that he’d help me however, whenever I wanted. It had felt natural, somehow. “Ethan will send you weekly updates, and we’ll keep paying him for his work until I reach a proposal for how to move forward with The Knockout – all of it, including insurance and the future vision – that we can all live with. Does that work?” I shot them a look that said it had better work for them, or we were going to have a problem.
Now my brothers were finally silent. Alejandro had his mouth half-ajar. “Yeah, Natalia. Yes.” It sounded like he barely held back a ‘Ma’am.’ I smiled softly. “Thank you.”
Chapter 10
Ethan
I hadn't expected to see over half Natalia’s family at the gym that morning, but as they walked me back to the front door, I was almost glad I had. Scratch that - I absolutely loved meeting them. Yes, they all had strong personalities, just like their sister. Yes, they could be a little domineering. But they also radiated absolute love and concern for each other. All it took was that one short meeting for me to understand that Natalia's brothers would do anything for her, and she would do anything for them.
I would have killed to have family like that in my life.
Walking beside me, Natalia leaned into me and said, so quietly only I could hear, "I'm sorry about them."
"Don't be," I said. Then, thanking the gears in my head for turning as quickly as they did, I added, "Watch your phone."
Natalia's brows pulled together, and just as her tallest and most hulking brother opened the door, I reached down and gave her fingers a short squeeze. I could have sworn I felt her relax, just the slightest bit. "I'll see you soon, okay?"
"Ethan, I -"
"We'll look forward to your updates," one of her brothers said, watching me with a polite smile. It was clear I was supposed to get out now. So that's what I did. But not before registering the adorable look of annoyed disappointment on Natalia's face as I walked back toward the train station.
* * *
I didn't really know whether Natalia wanted personal communications from me, but she had put her cell phone number on the paperwork she provided for our agency, and she hadn't spooked when I'd grabbed her hand earlier. So I tested my luck and punched it into a text box.
One of the reasons that I'd been interested in doing insurance work with my actuary degree, instead of just behind-the-screen analysis, was that I loved people. I loved meeting them, reading them, figuring out the best way to interact wit
h them. Sussing out what made them tick. That challenge of discovery had never felt more important to me than it did with Natalia. I couldn't put my finger on exactly why, and that was what I was determined to do.
I took a deep breath and tapped out a message:
Ethan: Hello, Miss Knockout
I set my phone down and paced my office, stopping at my desk to shuffle papers or brush a non-existent speck of dust off one of the two armchairs settled opposite my desk. The phone pinged with a new message, and I practically pounced on it.
Natalia: I'm so sorry, again.
I shook my head while my fingers flew.
Ethan: Don't be. Can you get away for dinner?
Natalia: Are you asking me out on a date?
Ethan: No.
I smiled to myself. That would catch her off guard.
Natalia: ...wow. Didn't expect that.
A laugh burst out of my mouth.
Ethan: I'm not sure you'd say 'yes' to a date with me now, and I don't want to ask unless I know it'll be a yes.
Natalia: Not taking any risks, Insurance Man, huh?
Ethan: Not with you. Never.
I grinned at my phone, satisfied with the level of flirtation I’d put in, then started tapping out one last message.
Ethan: I have a dinner place I want to show you. New to Philly since you grew up here. It'll be quiet and we can talk and plan our next moves.
Natalia: :) Sounds good. When and where?
Ethan: It's close to The Knockout. On my way from home. Can I pick you up there? Around 7?
Natalia: Well, since I have no other plans....
Ethan: C'mon. Say yes. To a business meeting.
Natalia: Yes. To a business meeting.
Ethan: Thank you. I'll see you then.
I set my phone face-down on my desk, took a seat, and cracked my knuckles. I had a bunch of stuff to pull together before I saw Natalia in a little less than six hours, and I also had to sleep and shower before then. There was no way I was meeting her at less than my best.
* * *
Six hours later, I stood in front of the same dingy red-painted metal door that seemed to have completely kick started my life over the last couple days. I'd slept for a solid 90 minutes, jogged on my minimalist fold-out treadmill for 15, showered, shaved, and splashed on the fresh-smelling cologne with a hint of woodsiness Catharine, the girl I’d sort-of dated few months ago, had given me for Christmas. I wasn't vain or anything, but as I looked in the mirror, I confirmed that I looked about as good as I could. Every single girl I'd ever dated had called me tall, dark, and handsome, and I never argued.
"Handsome" was going a bit far, I thought, but I was also the guy who'd grown out his beard because I didn't have the strong jaw that every woman seemed to crave since reading 50 Shades of Gray. I thought about shaving it, but never got up the nerve. The only time I'd come close, actually, was when one girl I was dating referred to it as "lumbersexual." I still cringed when I thought of that.
Not that I had anything against lumberjacks. I just had somewhat more... urban sensibilities. I liked things that involved fewer bugs and less humidity.
I knocked on the door, hard, and stepped back. I reminded myself to include this dangerous entrance arrangement in the list of things we needed to address, and as I was brainstorming solutions, the door opened with a heavy whoosh.
"Oh. Hi." The tiny woman with the dark bob from earlier today looked me up and down. "Did you leave something here?"
"Ugh, Amalia!" In a second, Natalia stood next to her. She was absolutely fucking radiant. Form-fitting jeans with scattered rips, revealing precious inches of her skin, a baggy white tank top, and a flowing sweater cardigan made her look comfortable. The peach color of the sweater seemed to make her skin glow, and her glossy hair was pulled into a simple high ponytail that made it swish around her shoulders.
The style was also perfect for grabbing during less public activities. I scolded myself for letting the thought slip through and making my dick stir with interest. This wasn't a date. I didn't know exactly what there was between me and Natalia, but I knew it was fragile, and I knew she spooked easily. That meant that this wasn't a date, because it couldn't be. It was more like... me auditioning to date Natalia. Maybe. If she wanted to.
Amalia's eyes darted down to Natalia's shoes. Pristine white Adidas sneakers with black stripes. "You want some heels?" Amalia asked quietly.
Natalia just glared at her, and I tried to hold back a laugh.
"Some earrings, maybe?" Amalia pressed. "Lip gloss? Stay here. I'll go get -"
"No!" Natalia said, her tone so harsh it made the other woman stop and stare at her. "It's not... this isn't... I don't need heels and jewelry to have a meeting with Ethan."
"A... meeting," Amalia said, her eyebrow raised. This was a woman who, just like Natalia, took zero bullshit from anyone, who was always ready for someone to try to pull the wool over her eyes. Good. I guessed you needed that in a family with five brothers, who grew up pranking and teasing and wrestling and one-upping each other.
"Yep," Natalia said, grabbing a big black bag next to the door. "See? I’m even taking my laptop along. Bueno?"
Natalia didn't wait for Amalia's answer. She just stepped out the door, angling her shoulder to slide past me and hurry down the steps.
"I won't wait up!" Amalia called as we started down the sidewalk.
"You don't live here!" Natalia shot back. "But please lock up, okay?"
Amalia's mouth stretched into a grin. "Of course! Have fun!"
She looked so happy, and she waved so frantically at us, that it would have been hilarious if it wasn't so sweet. Just another part of Natalia's family that loved her and wanted to take care of her, more than she seemed to want to take care of herself.
"Okay," Natalia said, blowing out a long breath and looking up at me, her eyes round and searching. "Where to?"
Chapter 11
Natalia
"So," I said after several long, agonizing seconds of Ethan and I walking down the quiet Philadelphia street in silence. Monday and Tuesday nights were always quiet in this little neighborhood. The college kids that lived close by were recovering from their first day of classes after a weekend of hard partying. Restaurants were recovering from the weekend, too, anticipating empty tables by hiring fewer waitstaff. Sometimes it seemed like Philadelphia only had two modes: lit up and crazy, or almost totally quiet.
That was one reason I loved LA and New York. They were always crazy. They kept me occupied. In LA and New York, I was never alone with my thoughts.
"So," Ethan responded, dipping down to nudge his shoulder against mine gently. "We have a lot of work to do, huh? Figured we might as well do it over dinner."
"To a place I've never been?"
"Well, I didn't know that for sure, but I was trying to entice you. I know you like adventures, which is why you were so annoyed when your brothers were trying to drown you in business talk."
"I wasn't -"
"You were. And that's okay. They are annoying."
"Yeah, and you're trying to tell me what I'm thinking and feeling just like they do." Exactly what I needed - another man pretending he could ready my mind, tell me what was best for me. God, would it never stop?
Ethan stopped dead in his tracks, which made me do the same. He pressed his lips together and pulled in a deep breath through his nose.
"You're right," he said. "I'm sorry."
"Just like that," I said, deadpanning. Didn't believe him for a second.
"I was wrong," he shrugged. "I have no idea what you were thinking or feeling when your brothers were all trying to take over your business while you were standing right there. Maybe you'll tell me, and maybe you won't, but that would be the only way I'd find out. I'm sorry for the assumption."
"O-okay," I said, cautiously, trying not to look into his eyes for so long. Those eyes were the initial reason I'd slept with Ethan all those months ago, after a lazy night at a bar I'd never been to, a
nd they were the reason I kept coming back to him. They held such fire when he spoke, when he studied my face, when he thrust into me. I'd never been able to resist getting as close as possible to fire.
"Okay," he said. "We're here, if you’re still willing to have dinner with me."
I looked up at a simple placard above what looked like a hole-in-the-wall restaurant. It was done in a stark contrast of white, turquoise, and red. Joey and Hawk's, est. 2013. Just a spoon and fork and some random wings.
I gave it the side-eye. "That sign tells me nothing about what this place is," I said.
"Thinking like a businesswoman," Ethan said as he held the door open for me. "You're right, the signage is kind of shit. But it doesn't matter, because word of mouth does all the advertising for these guys. You'll see why in a second."
He guided us to a small table in the corner, pulling out a chair for me. The smallest tables were a hodgepodge of repurposed furniture, and the larger ones looked like the one in Abuela's kitchen, covered with coupon clippings, a pile of washcloths mid-folding, and a bowl of apples. I ran my hand over the surface of our table, painted in matte turquoise and decorated with a single daisy in a bud vase. Every table in the place – only a few others occupied – were painted in different bright colors.
"Hey! Ethan!" A voice called from the back. "I'm dealing with a wonky fridge in the back. Slow night."
"Yeah, I see," he replied to the voice. “Hawk could have hired people to do a bunch of stuff around here,” Ethan explained. “I interviewed him for one of my final projects in college and we've been buddies ever since. His dad left him this restaurant.”
“Is that why you brought me here?” I asked suspiciously. “As kind of a case study or something? Are you, like, lecturing me on how to revamp a business?”
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