by Doyle, S.
No, this was Ethan running scared. Scared of losing me because he’d just lost his father.
“I don’t believe him. I don’t think that this whole time he’s harbored these feelings for me and just chose not to act on them. Sorry, Ethan, but you don’t have that much self-control.”
The jab landed squarely where I wanted it to and I watched the anger flare in his eyes.
“Did you know?” I asked him, feeling again that sick twist of hurt that I normally kept in its nice, safe spot well up again. “Every time you hooked up with some tall, hot model, did you know that it hurt me?”
“No,” he grumbled. “Because you never reacted. It was like Nicki all over again. I told myself dating those women helped to keep the distance between us. But if you want the truth, then yes, I wanted you to be jealous, too. I wanted to know if I could hurt you, but I didn’t think I ever had. I thought you didn’t care enough. That you were beyond petty jealousy. Unlike me.”
I snorted, not exactly happy to be right. “Yeah, let’s tell Carol about that. Let’s tell her how you basically tried to sabotage any relationship I’ve ever had. How about that one time when you made us go out on a double date?!”
He had the decency to look sheepish.
“It wasn’t my best idea,” he admitted.
* * *
Four years ago
Julia
I heard the elevator doors ding and I grimaced. I knew Jordyn had already gone for the night and the only other person who would be visiting my office at this hour was Ethan.
Not that I cared. Exactly. It was just things were easier when we weren’t discussing my dating life because he would inevitably have something snarky to say about it.
“Jules,” he said, approaching me even as I was turning off my computer. “Good, you’re here. I’m going to need you to call Doug tonight. I’m not happy with those production numbers and he’s going to need a better reason than building planes is hard to explain why they’re so low.”
“Building planes is hard, which I’ve told you any number of times,” I reminded him.
“Not that hard. Call Doug and see what’s up.”
“No.”
He blinked a few times. It wasn’t often I told him no, but I was standing in front of him in a red, beaded dress that had cost more money than I’d ever imagined paying for an article of clothing.
But Roger, my date for the evening, was intelligent, nice, and reasonably attractive and I hadn’t gotten laid in basically forever. So I’d gone with my black thong, expensive red dress, and black Jimmy Choos in order to be impressive.
So much for impressive if Ethan didn’t even notice what I was wearing.
“Did you tell me no? I’m pretty sure you can’t do that, what with me being the boss of you.”
“Ethan, hello, look at what I’m wearing! I obviously have plans tonight.”
He blinked again then took in the dress, the shoes. He sniffed the air around me, too.
“Coco Chanel,” he murmured. “You only break that out for the ones you’re really trying to impress.”
Exactly.
“I’ll call Doug on Monday,” I told him. “None of his reasons for the poor numbers is going to change from now until then.”
“Fine.” He sat on the edge of my desk and I noticed he was also in a suit and tie. It must be a date night for him, as well, so if he would just run along, I could go about the business of reminding myself I was not just a VP of operations for a billion-dollar company but also a woman.
“Ethan, you need to leave,” I said when he didn’t look like he had any intention of moving from his perch.
“I will. Shortly. I also have a date.”
“I know. You’re wearing your red tie. You always do when you go out because you think it makes you look more substantial. Spoiler alert…it really doesn’t.”
He sneered. “You know me so well. So who is this fellow worthy of Chanel?”
And here it came. I would tell him some aspect of who my date was, and he would do everything to trash the guy. I wasn’t stupid. I knew Ethan was territorial when it came to me. It had been this way since college.
He didn’t want me but didn’t want anyone else to have me.
Which basically made him a jerk, but because I knew him so well, I’d long since gotten over it. It was simply his nature.
“His name is Roger, he’s a banker, we met at a Mariner’s baseball game.”
“You hate baseball.”
“It was a charity thing. Now can I go?”
“Roger,” he repeated. “I swear you only date men who have the names of eighty-year-olds.”
“Roger is a fine name. I’m leaving. Now.”
“You mean he’s not picking you up here?”
“We’re meeting at the restaurant.”
“Chivalry is dead.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh really. And you’re going to pick up your date for evening?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I sent a car to pick her up. I never said I was chivalrous. And where is this Roger taking you?”
I smiled as I snapped my clutch bag shut after checking to see I had my phone, keys, a lipstick, and a condom. “To the very exclusive, highly rated, almost impossible to get into…Canlis. I can’t wait!”
“It’s not that hard to get into. You know…when you’re me.”
He had a look on his face that worried me. “Ethan do not tell me…”
“Our reservations are for eight. And yours?”
“Eight-fifteen,” I muttered through clenched teeth.
“Perfect,” he said with a too-wide smile. “We can all eat together. It will be fun!”
* * *
Canlis
Julia
“So you’re a model?” Roger asked Alaina, who was sitting adjacent to him at our table for four.
“Lingerie,” she answered. “Not for any of the major distributers yet, but I’ve done some catalog work for Nordstrom. Which is why I can only eat the tiniest of bites for each course.”
I was going to kill Ethan. While I’d worn my best dress, my best shoes, and my best perfume, I naturally didn’t hold a candle to Alaina, the stunning, tall, redheaded lingerie model.
Canlis was a five-star culinary event consisting of a fixed menu served over four courses, each course only two, maybe three, bites max and she was LEAVING MOST OF IT ON HER PLATE!
“Hey, remember when I busted your Nordstrom cherry, Jules?”
I turned my head toward Ethan and tried to kill him with my death glare.
“Ooooh, this sounds like an interesting story,” Alaina said, shimmying her shoulders as she did, so that I could watch Roger’s gaze fall to her swaying breasts. Because as both he and I had concluded, it did not appear that Alaina was wearing a bra this evening. Roger was nearly salivating.
“It’s not really,” I said. “We went shopping together in college. I picked out several shirts and pants for him, creating a new look. And he didn’t know what color my eyes were.”
“Yeah, that’s not so interesting,” Alaina said, frowning. “I thought you two were going to say you had sex in the dressing room or something. Because I mean, like, who hasn’t done that?”
Me. I’d never had dressing room sex. “Nope. No dressing room sex for us. Isn’t that right, Ethan?”
He glared back at me, but my death-ray vision was way better.
“Alaina would you consider modeling other things…like dresses or maybe bathing suits?” Roger asked as he finished off his rabbit.
“I don’t know. Swimsuits are no joke. I mean sometimes you have to go in the water and it’s really cold.”
I tilted my head toward Ethan. “You dated a swimsuit model before, didn’t you?”
“Jessica.”
“No, the other one.”
“Marjorie?”
I shook my head. “Not who I was thinking of. Kari?”
“She was Victoria’s Secret, not swimwear.”
“Oh that’s
right,” I said, bumping into his shoulder playfully when what I really wanted to do was knock him off his chair. “It’s hard to keep track with Ethan when he dates so much.”
I smiled over at Alaina to see if my description of Ethan as a serial supermodel dater garnered any reaction, but her expression was completely blank. She obviously didn’t have a problem with Ethan’s dating history.
“You two have known each other a long time then?” Roger asked.
What? Really? A question directed at me from Roger? That would be the first of the night. But noooo, I wasn’t bitter.
“I met Jules our first day of college.”
“Oh, so you both graduated from Harvard,” Roger said as he sipped his wine. “I’m a Yale man myself.”
Was it wrong that I suddenly wanted to kill him now with my death glare?
Ethan laughed and put his arm along the back of my chair. Then, as if sensing the possessive nature of that gesture, he removed it. “Oh, I didn’t graduate. Dropped out after the first year. But I couldn’t convince Jules to come with me.”
“Really,” Roger said, obviously taken aback. “A man of your business acumen a dropout? I had no idea. And you’ve never thought about going back?”
That made me laugh as I reached for my wine. At least it was delicious. “I think Ethan’s got enough on his plate, what with the whole jet slash airline revolution. And it’s not like he needs the paper to prove how successful he is.”
Wait. Was I sticking up for Ethan? Just one more thing to be pissed at him about. For making me not like Roger enough that I’d stick up for Ethan even though I was pissed at him!
“Don’t be sad, baby,” Alaina said, reaching across the table to pat Ethan’s hand. “I didn’t even make it through a semester of community college. There was so much reading.”
Yeah, but who needed to read when you had a body like Alaina’s? Nope, not bitter at all.
“Reading can be a challenge, Alaina,” Roger said thoughtfully. As thoughtfully as one could when he was full of shit. “Fortunately, you’re so talented in other areas.”
“Awwww, that’s so sweet of you.”
“Yes, Roger,” Ethan snarled. “So sweet. What do you think, Jules? Isn’t Roger the sweetest?”
“Yep.” I reached for my wine again, smiling in the least genuine way I knew how. “That’s why I agreed to go out on a date with him.”
Just then the waiter brought us our fourth and final course. Dessert. All the dishes were named. I was having the Chicory, Ethan the Soufflé, Roger the Manchego Curado and Alaina the Chocolate. I watched as she rubbed her belly.
“Oh my goodness, I couldn’t. I’m so stuffed from everything else.”
“Perfect,” I said as I reached over the table and grabbed her plate. “Two for me.”
After all, a girl had to get her satisfaction in some way and it wasn’t looking like it was going to be with Roger tonight.
* * *
Therapy
Julia
“And it wasn’t just that one time,” I told Carol. “It was him calling me with sudden emergencies any time I was on a date with someone he perceived to be a threat. The only reason CJ and I got as far as we did was because you were spending all that time in Europe.”
“Yes,” he barked. Moving away from the window to sit in the empty chair next to me. “Fine, I’ll admit it. I didn’t want you to get married. I didn’t want someone to be more important in your life than me. And since we’ve established I was willing to give you a child, I didn’t see any reason for you to go down that path. Especially when you knew—”
He stopped himself, but the time for avoidance had passed. All cards on the table. That’s what we’d agreed to. That’s why I’d come back to this office.
“Knew what? Honesty, Ethan, remember?” I pressed him.
“Knew you would be leaving me alone. You think we weren’t equals because I knew you wanted to fuck me. Well newsflash, we were never equals because you knew I always needed you more than you needed me! And I have proof of that since, the first time I turned my back, you went out and got engaged!”
I winced. Not because Ethan was upset. After all, that had been the whole point of CJ. At least I could be honest with myself about that now. At the time I’d really thought that, maybe, I could make something with CJ. Build on something that was real and not filled with so much pain, hurt, and swallowed feelings. That night of Daniel’s wedding when Ethan had fucked me changed me, and I’d struggled to get back to normal. Or whatever was normal for us.
CJ had been that for me. A life rope I could use to pull myself out of Ethan’s gravitational force.
Carol pursed her lips. “Interesting. Do we need to talk about why it’s so important for you to be equals this relationship? So important that Ethan sold a multi-million—”
“Billion,” he corrected her. “If we’re being accurate.”
“Stop bragging, Ethan,” I scolded him.
“It’s not bragging when it’s true,” he muttered.
“Anyway, he sold this company just so he would no longer be your employer. That’s a lot to give up.”
“It is… But he’s joking if he thinks that makes us equals. Ethan’s a genius. Have you ever tried to have a relationship with a genius?” I asked Carol.
“Again, relationship!” he said.
“An entirely twisted and fucked-up one…yes!”
“Well, that’s what we’re paying her to fix. Right, Carol?”
Carol smiled. “You’re paying me to listen, but more importantly, I think to help both of you hear each other. Because from everything I’ve observed, open communication seems to be a problem for both of you.”
“She shut down after her father died,” Ethan said. “She’ll never admit that but it’s true.”
“Ethan!” I shouted as if he’d given away a secret he said he would always keep.
“Jules, it’s true. From the moment I met you, it’s been you against the world, you against your family, you against the bank trying take your farm, you against everyone in college except me. You lost your dad and first protector, and somehow, that made you feel like all the battles in the world were for you to take on. It’s why you got so pissed when you found out I paid off the mortgage on the farm. I’d slain one of your dragons for you and you felt cheated out of the victory.”
I hated that he was right. I didn’t think directly about the impact that my dad dying had on me. For me there really was no point in looking at that closely because it didn’t change anything.
“Someone had to fight. I was the only one in my family who was capable. And I got pissed at you because by paying off my debt, you put me in yours.”
“And we’re back to the power dynamic,” Carol said. “Okay, let’s talk about that incident. Julia, when did you learn Ethan had paid off your family farm?”
I pursed my lips remembering that Christmas.
“You mean the day I learned my family loved Ethan more than they did me?” I asked tartly.
“I’m more fun than Jules and I bring better presents at Christmas,” he said with a smile.
5
Eight years ago
Iowa
Julia
“Weird, isn’t it? Coming home after having been away for so long?”
We sat in Ethan’s car—a Tesla, not because he believed in saving the environment, but because he believed in checking out what he considered his competition—in front of the home where I’d grown up.
The weather was arctic. The fields were an endless mass of frozen cornstalks. The lights inside were on.
Christmas in Iowa. This was the first time I’d been back since I left. Mom and John had come out East to attend my graduation this past May, but I’d gone right to New York afterward. Until Ethan came to get me a few months ago.
“No,” I answered him, making myself believe it. This was home. This was Mom and the guys, and I would always have it. Especially now that I was making enough money to keep the
bank from foreclosing.
I opened the door of the car, which was one of those weird, futuristic, lift-up doors—a little showy, I thought—and stepped out.
I’d dressed the part, like I used to: a pair of jeans, a flannel shirt, some sturdy boots. The difference now was that the jeans cost over a hundred dollars instead of twenty, the shirt cost eighty dollars instead of fifteen and I would never, upon threat of death, confess what the boots cost.
Together, from either side of the car, we pulled out bags of presents and our suitcases then started toward the old home. Two stories, worn white with black shutters that needed painting.
That would be nice. Pay off the mortgage, own the place free and clear, then have a little money to freshen it up. Not that any folks other than our closest neighbors ever came around, but fixing it up would mean something to us.
Make Dad proud, I thought.
Stepping onto the front porch, I didn’t bother to knock. It was my home. But I still looked behind me to see that Ethan was there. He wiggled his bushy eyebrows at me as if to suggest he wasn’t going anywhere, and I rushed forward.
“Merry Christmas!” I called out.
“Oh my gosh, she’s here! She’s here!”
My mom, a short, plump, sixty-year-old who was an Iowan woman through and through, came out from the kitchen with a huge smile.
“Oh my gosh, look at you!” she screeched.
I didn’t bother to remind her she’d seen me seven months ago at my graduation and I hadn’t changed all that much. But then she’d been crying so hard with tears of joy, it might have been difficult for her to get a good look at me.
“You’re too thin!” was her first observation.
It wasn’t true. While, yes, I was thinner—a condition of living in New York and realizing pretty quickly that if you’re were going to dress the part of an up-and-comer, you had to lose the extra belly—I wasn’t too thin.
