Business as Usual

by Hughes, E.

  “Ethan Yu and his father have been to the office a few times. Everyone was shocked when they heard the two of you had gotten hitched.”

  “Then I suppose they won’t be as shocked when we get a divorce. That’s usually the way it works, right?”

  Hirsch coughed and choked on the cigarette smoke billowing out of his mouth. He rubbed the butt into a nearby ashtray, shaking his bald head emphatically.

  “Divorce? You just got married...”

  “I’m being facetious,” I droned, waving my hand dismissively. “Why should I apologize for doing exactly what my father would do in the same situation? That’s why he put me in charge, right?” I bit down on my bottom lip, trying to hide the uncertainty in my eyes.

  “Exactly,” Hirsch smiled, resting his hand atop mine. “Thought you were going soft on me for a minute there…the last thing you need to do is apologize for doing your job. Stand your ground!”

  “You’re not just buttering me up are you?” I pouted.

  Hirsch shrugged… “Well, just a little…” he leaned in conspiratorially. “I’m trying to get in good with the boss’ daughter so I can get that promotion I’m after. You hear that? Pro-mo-tion!”

  I tapped Hirsch on the arm playfully, laughing for the first time in days. Suddenly, his eyes went cold. “Uh oh…look what the cat dragged in…”

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, turning in my chair.

  Hirsch nodded toward the bar. Ethan was headed in our direction. I drew my hand away from Hirsch as he approached, his serious drop-dead gorgeous gaze centered on my face.

  “Can I talk to you?” he asked.

  “Sure. Care to join us?”

  Ethan wasn’t having it.

  “You mind?” he replied, looking over at Hirsch.

  I nodded, signaling that it was okay to leave. Hirsch grabbed his plate and took it to another table, Ethan sitting in his empty chair.

  “Care to explain what happened today?” I finally asked, folding my arms across my chest.

  “We’re supposed to be a team but I feel like you’re working against me,” Ethan complained.

  “I’m not against you and we are a team. I want this project to be a success,” I told him, earnestly.

  What I didn’t tell him was how utterly desperate I was to prove I could take care of the company. How Eugene couldn’t bring himself to trust me to bear the tradition of taking over the family business and how much that hurt.

  When I was little girl my parents argued about my future. My father had decided to marry me off to some family before I had even hit puberty, as if getting married was my sole purpose in life. My mother was against it. My father hated the blue-blood families who moved in and out of our social circles, ‘inbreeds,’ he called them, who intermarried with other bluebloods with hopes of keeping their blue blood blue and old money old. Did he think he was different because I married a wealthy foreigner?

  “And what about our other project?” Ethan asked, snapping me back to the present.

  I gave him a bewildered look. I was still preoccupied with thoughts of Eugene and my mother.

  “Our marriage?” Ethan continued, mystified, like I was supposed to know what he was talking about.

  “I’m not talking about us, I’m talking about work!” I snapped, miffed that he was changing the subject again… angry that like my father, he refused to listen to my ideas.

  Ethan raked a hand through coal black hair.

  “You know what? Forget it!”

  Before I could respond, he was already out of his chair, headed toward the door. I rummaged through my purse for my credit card and waved the waitress over to my table for the bill. But the old redhead took her sweet time, and when she finally arrived, Ethan was long gone.

  After leaving the restaurant I went back to the hotel where I paced the bedroom, waiting for Ethan to return. I waited until the sun went down, until flickering neon lights from flashing signs painted the walls a sinister rainbow of blues, greens, yellows and reds. I also tried his cell phone but he turned it off, so I couldn’t get through. Simmering, I finally fell asleep just before midnight, but not before locking the bedroom door. About two in the morning I heard the doorknob jiggle, followed by the drunken slur of Ethan’s voice, begging me to let him in.

  “Come out and talk,” he said.

  But I ignored him, pulling the sheet over my head as he rattled around the living room making noise into the early hours of the morning.

  After a restless night I took an early shower then sat before my laptop dressed in only a bath towel…one of the many perks of working away from the office. I wrote a letter to Eugene and Mr. Yu with hopes of convincing them that building a 150,000 sq. ft. hotel would cost too much money. I then emailed the letters to my secretary with orders to print and ship by one day express to the two men. My inbox was at capacity, so I went through them one by one. I answered an email from Hirsch, who wanted to know if everything was okay. I wrote back, assuring him that I was fine. Diane had also emailed to tell me she found a local contractor willing to work for half the price of the larger more expensive company my father and Ethan wanted to hire. I told her to tell Gary to draw up a contract. After I review the details, we’ll get it signed whether Ethan liked it or not. It had been decided. I was going to do my job.

  When I was done I ordered bacon, fruit, juice, croissants, and waffles from room service, then opened the bedroom door to remove the “do not disturb” sign from our suite...but not before scanning the living room for Ethan.

  He lay spread-eagled on the sofa, fast-asleep. Nude. I had yet to decide whether it was obnoxious or sexy. Even angry, I leaned toward the latter. Ethan had obviously crawled in drunk as a skunk, his clothes from the night before strewn all over the floor. I followed the trail, collecting the items one by one before dropping them into a basket that would be taken to the cleaners. There was also a half empty bottle of vodka tipped over on the countertop. I wiped the spillage from the floor, brewed a pot of coffee, then moved to cover Ethan with a blanket I found in the linen closet. I stood over the sofa, bedspread in hand, gazing down at his ridiculously handsome physique, muscular, strong and sizeable in all the right places. Suddenly, his eyes sprang open. Hot with embarrassment and startled out of my senses, I dropped the blanket to the floor as he pulled me down.

  He groaned as I sunk into his embrace, settling my toweled body between his thighs as his hands moved sensuously up and down my spine. I quietly traced the lines of his strong angular jaw with my fingertips and snuggled close, relishing his warmth and the smell of his manly flesh, enjoying the quiet between us. The faint smell of liquor was still on his breath as I nuzzled my nose into his neck and closed my eyes. When Danny held me in his arms it felt rehearsed, like a staged romance. With Ethan it was different. Familiar. The only thing that felt staged about our relationship was our marriage. Everything else felt right. Why didn’t I see it before?

  Warm lips pressed against my forehead as I settled in… thinking about my inexplicable attraction to this man and the dangerous game we were playing. His hands slipped under my bath towel and squeezed my backside firmly as I straddled him. I had Ethan right where I wanted him, inching close, my thigh chaining his leg to the bed.

  “Get off,” he demanded, trying to sound firm as he pushed me away.

  “Why?”

  “We can’t do this,” Ethan continued, clearly struggling to resist.

  He let my legs drop to the sofa cushion as he moved aside. I sat up.

  “You can’t keep doing this to me!” I snapped.

  Ethan lowered his head. “You’re attracted to me, I’m attracted to you… I get it. But I want more.”

  What he wanted was a real marriage… Stubborn bastard. Ever hear of casual sex? Why couldn’t Ethan understand how difficult it was to accept a marriage that had been patched together in a boardroom? By our fathers, no less…

  “Fine, forget it!” I griped, removing myself from the sofa.

  I rolled t
he towel around my body, physically and emotionally spent as Ethan gathered the blanket from the floor and bunched it together on his lap. I removed the “Do not disturb” sign from the door of our hotel suite, recalling why I had gone into the living room in the first place, wishing the diversion had never taken place. I was so over him!

  Room service arrived a few minutes later. I answered the door dressed in a summery floral dress, as I pulled the tray inside and ushered the server away after handing him a tip. I then laid the spread on the table then piled my plate with bacon, cheese, and croissants before disappearing into the bedroom again. A half hour later, I heard plates clinking softly, then the sound of the morning news on television, the volume slowly rising until it was just right. I closed my laptop, sat my food aside, and opened the door. Ethan looked up as I strolled to the kitchenette and poured us both a cup of coffee, delivering them to the dining table where he read the paper and watched TV. I was used to making breakfast at home growing up in the house alone with my dad. We’d have breakfast together, even if he didn’t come home for dinner. I continued to prepare breakfast every morning ever since.

  Ethan was shirtless, dressed in the navy blue slacks he’d worn the night before, his hair a sexy disheveled mess, dark rings encircling drowsy eyes.

  He accepted the coffee, his fingers covering mine in the transition as he muttered a quiet, “Thank you,” eyes focused on the news.

  I took a sip of coffee and stole a glance at Ethan from over the rim of my mug. He finally sat his newspaper down then turned the television off.

  “We need a mediator,” he said, a thoughtful expression in his eyes.

  “You mean a marriage counselor? Jeez, Ethan we’ve been married less than a week and we’re already in trouble.”

  “And who do you think your father will blame for our failure? Certainly, not me.”

  Ethan blew the surface of his coffee before taking a sip.

  “We should have the marriage annulled and call it a day,” I whispered.

  He smiled.

  “The judge would never agree. We’ve already consummated the marriage.”

  “Why are you so intent on making this difficult?” I pleaded.

  “Because your father’s empire will collapse if we disappoint.”

  I met Ethan’s steely gaze. It was the most serious I had seen him look.

  “Is that a threat?”

  He shook his head slowly. “I’m not interested in business, Elizabeth…I only want what was promised to me.”

  I sat my cup down.

  I don’t understand.”

  Ethan clutched the coffee cup and saucer in his hands as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. His soft dark hair glistened in the light like it had been coated in a slick of black oil.

  “I took great offense to your criticism of my skills as an architect and businessman, as well as your observations about China yesterday…” Ethan’s face darkened as he spoke. “Then it occurred to me that perhaps, your father shared even less than I originally thought about our families, my past, and our futures.”

  “Is there something you want to tell me?” I asked Ethan sweetly, growing tired of his protracted explanation.

  “Elizabeth,” he whispered, leaning in. “I want to fix on our relationship and I’m willing to put in the work if you are.”

  Ethan’s face brightened, the tone of his voice shifting considerably. He sat his coffee down and lifted a flower from a vase at the center of the table, and placed it before me.

  “Care to join me for dinner tonight?”

  I was held captive by his mesmerizing, enigmatic gaze.

  “I got time to burn,” I answered coolly. What do you have in mind?”

  “Dinner…a night on the town… I dunno, I’ll figure something out.”

  I slid my hand over his. “Should I wear something special?”

  Ethan held my gaze for a moment then withdrew his hand from my grasp. “Wear whatever you want,” he said, rising from the table.

  If Ethan wasn’t interested in doing business with me or my father, then what was he doing here and why was he so interested in the hotel and Byron Energy? Where did I fit into his plans? I was looking forward to our date and finally getting some answers.

  I ordered a navy blue Herve Leger bandage dress with cap sleeves through Adriana’s web site and had it hand delivered to my hotel suite. The Herve Leger dress was probably one of the sexiest dresses I had ever seen. It left nothing to imagination as it clung to every curve of my body. I pulled my hair back, twisting it into an elegant up-do, then carefully applied my makeup until it was just right…perfect for a night on the town.

  Ethan was out, as he had been for most of the day. At eight, feeling impatient I assumed it would be a late dinner, if at all, when a knock drew me away from the landscape windows and my view of the bustling nightlife below.

  “You’re late,” I said, flinging the door open.

  “I’m sorry. I’m here for dinner with Mrs. Elizabeth Yu. Is she available?”

  I sighed, folding my arms across my chest. “I’ll have to check my schedule, seems I already have a date. He was supposed to be here at seven. But I’m starting to think he’s a bit of a jerk.”

  Ethan extended an elbow. After a pause, I finally accepted, linking my arm into his as he pulled me out the door. We went downstairs to an extravagant five-star Italian restaurant near the hotel lobby. An entire section lit by candles had been made private, just for us. I was surprised by the amount of planning and effort Ethan had invested in our date. We sat down and ordered a glass of white wine by candlelight as we awaited our meals, soft romantic music playing in the background.

  “This is nice,” I finally said. “Thank you, it was very sweet of you.”

  Thick dark lashes lowered, a mass of dark shiny hair fanned across Ethan’s forehead as he looked down, fingers grazing the stem of his wine glass. His mouth, full and plump, curled into a tiny smile. “Being married, I figured we should at least go on our first date. A proper start, right?”

  “Makes sense to me. So how is married life?” I took a sip of wine and slid my fingers over his, hands surprisingly rough. Ethan’s gaze swept across my face as he quietly drew his hand away, a golden shade of candlelight flickering in his eyes.

  “We haven’t ripped each other apart despite everything that’s happened, so I guess that’s a good thing.”

  “I’m sure you’ve thought about it.”

  The look he gave me said otherwise. The waiter arrived, placing warm slices of bread between us and chilled plates for our salad. With a wave from Ethan, he refilled our wine glasses with Chardonnay.

  “So… what’s his name?” Ethan asked, eyes turning mysteriously dark.

  “Come again?”

  “Your boyfriend?”

  “My ex-boyfriend,” I corrected.

  He took a breath as if bracing himself for information he didn’t want to hear.

  “What happened?”

  “You.”

  “He read the paper?” Ethan asked.

  “I’m breaking up with him.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s unfair to continue our relationship under the circumstances.”

  “You told me you love him.”

  “I do. Just not enough. Not the way he deserves to be loved and I don’t want to hurt him. How could a woman who calls herself deeply in love with a man, marry someone else? Even under false pretenses?”

  Ethan shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Exactly. Real love is something you fight for, not something you give up for money. If I was truly in love with Danny, I never would have married you.”

  “So why did you?”

  “To help my father.”

  “Your father is a powerful man.”

  “Ergo, he doesn’t need my help?”

  The waiter arrived with dinner and set our plates before us. Ethan stuck his fork into a pile of spaghetti covered in parmesan and sauce, twirling it around
before he finally took a bite.

  “Was marrying for business reasons a ‘progressive American woman’ thing?”

  I picked at my lasagna before finally lifting my eyes to meet his brooding gaze.

  “We’ll call it a progressive Elizabeth, thing.”

  “Progressive until you’re standing in front of your father, always at his beck and call, his go to man… what are exactly are you trying to prove?”

  I shoveled two more scoops of lasagna into my mouth.

  “You don’t understand.”

  Ethan’s eyes burrowed into mine…“I understand completely. I have a father too.”

  “But he didn’t ask you to marry someone against your will. Or did he?”

  “I make my own choices and so do you,” Ethan answered.

  “Fair enough.” I threw my fork down. “I’m full.”

  “Care to walk it off?”

  I couldn’t eat thinking about everything we talked about so Ethan summoned the check. We went for a stroll along the Strip, where hot neon flashing lights blinked manically around us and large architectural wonders dominated the sky. Ethan shoved his hands into his pockets, not daring to hold mine as he had done before. He stared ahead, oblivious of the chaos and nightlife surrounding us.

  “A nickel for your thoughts,” I said, nudging him with my elbow.

  “How about a cool billion?”

  “My pockets aren’t deep enough. Not sure if my father’s are either. Times have changed.”

  “Not as much as you think.”

  He tugged my arm, pulling me close.

  “No man will ever mean as much to you as your father, will he?”

  We stopped mid-sidewalk, facing each other. I stood on my toes and leaned as close as I could to Ethan’s face. “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Try me.”

  He cupped my chin, dangerously hypnotic eyes gazing down at my mouth, our faces tilting, ever closely. Then we started walking again, bodies shoulder to shoulder.