by Tracy Wolff
I start gathering up my things, more than ready to call it a day. But before I can do much more than shove my laptop in my briefcase, Ethan announces, “I’ve got reservations for all of us and the Trifecta legal team at the Marine Room this evening in celebration of a job well done. I hope each of you can join me.”
The other interns—Robert and Jonah and Alyssa—start chattering excitedly, and even the lawyers seem pleased at the prospect of dinner at one of La Jolla’s best restaurants. I, of course, would rather head home to a bowl of canned soup and a night in front of the TV or—I don’t know, a root canal, but begging off at this point would look both churlish and unprofessional. Not to mention like I can’t handle being around Ethan.
Which I can’t—this morning proved it—but no need for the rest of the office to figure that out as well. My relationship with Ethan has pretty much been watercooler fodder from the very first day I started at Frost Industries. I see no need to make that any worse than it already is by deliberately snubbing an invitation that is both professional and impersonal in nature. Better to just put in an appearance and then slip out as soon as dinner is over. As long as I sit at the opposite end of the table from Ethan, everything should be fine.
Everything is not fine. It’s nowhere close to fine. Because while half of the Marine Room’s private dining room has tables set up for dinner, no one is currently sitting down. Instead, we’re all mingling and making small talk as white-coated waiters whisk by holding trays laden with drinks and hors d’oeuvres. The whole situation would be right up Tori’s alley, but it’s not something I enjoy at the best of times. And this is, very definitely, not the best of times.
To begin with, the other interns have all noticed how Ethan is treating me—or not treating me, to be more exact—and they’re taking full advantage of the fact that I have obviously lost his favor.
I’ve been fair game to them ever since I landed the Trifecta account—and Ethan—in the same week. Egged on by Rick, one of the senior interns who also happens to be here tonight since he did a bunch of preliminary work on the merger, I’ve been ostracized, ridiculed and even harassed by the intern pool on a fairly regular basis. I don’t exactly put up with it—if someone has something to say to my face, I definitely meet them barb for barb—but there’s only so much I can do when most of the crap they pull is more subtle, less confrontational. Unless I want to look like a total diva, I have to just ignore it.
Which I normally do. But tonight it’s hard to ignore when the group of them are huddled in a corner with the Trifecta interns, laughing and joking around. If Rick wasn’t here, I’d probably make an attempt to join them, but he is and the last thing I need is any more social humiliation courtesy of him. Besides, it’s not like I want to spend my evening hanging out with that bastard anyway.
At another party, I’d probably just go find someone else to talk to, but cocktail party or not, there is definitely a hierarchy at work here. Senior lawyers from Frost Industries are hanging with senior lawyers from Trifecta, junior lawyers are hanging with junior lawyers and the interns are definitely hanging with the other interns. Ethan and the heads of Trifecta are the only ones moving from group to group, spending a few minutes with everyone.
Well, everyone except for me, obviously. We’ve been here forty-five minutes and Ethan hasn’t so much as looked me in the eye. Oh, he sees me—I know that much because there is no way he could do such a good job of dancing around me if he didn’t. Anytime our proximity gets too close, anytime I so much as wander over to the same side of the room he’s on, he moves to another group.
I know what he’s doing, even understand and agree with it. But that doesn’t make it any easier to stand here in this room and experience it. Especially when I can feel the eyes of every Frost Industries employee darting back and forth between us, trying to figure out what’s going on … and what it means.
It’s been going on all day, more than long enough for them to start formulating their own conclusions. And while I can handle the shade the other interns are aiming at me—I went through a lot worse with Brandon and his friends in high school—being the object of speculation from my boss and the other lawyers is making me physically ill.
Or maybe that’s just my reaction to being this close to Ethan without being able to touch him.
I know it’s my own fault, know that I’m the one who pushed him away and not the other way around. Just like I know it will never work between us, not when his brother is in the picture in any way. But it’s still hard to move on, hard to remember that I can’t love him anymore, when just being in the same room with him feels like he’s got an electric conduit straight to my heart. Straight to my soul.
“Another glass of champagne, ma’am?” One of the waiters pauses next to me, tray extended.
I start to refuse—I’ve already had two—but a glance at the others assures me that this dinner is going to get a lot worse before it gets better. And if that’s the case, I’ll take what I can get to help me make it through.
“Yes. Thank you.” I smile at him as I reach for a glass. “Have a great night.”
“You, too,” he answers, but he’s already lost my attention.
Instead, I’m focused on Ethan, who is currently leaning indolently against one of the huge picture windows that looks out over the ocean. Though he’s deep in conversation with Lorraine and one of the attorneys from Trifecta, I can tell that he’s watching me. It’s the first time since this morning that he has so much as glanced my way, and my heart starts beating triple time with the realization.
I raise my glass in a quiet acknowledgment, wait to see what he’ll do in response. I expect a raised eyebrow at the least, maybe a quirk of his lips—something that acknowledges the fact that I caught him looking.
Instead, he stares silently for long seconds before very deliberately, very rudely, turning his back to me. Again.
It’s the last straw in a day, a week, half a month of shitty happenings, and I can’t take it. Not when I miss him the way that I do, like a phantom limb or an addiction I just can’t shake.
Not when everything inside of me yearns for him with an intensity that keeps me up at night. That practically brings me to my knees.
An intensity that I’m terrified will never go away.
I react without thinking, barely pausing to drop my glass on the nearest flat surface before bolting for the door. I don’t know where I’m going and I don’t care as long as it’s away from here.
Chapter Eight
“Hey, you okay?”
I startle at the unexpected voice, turn to see who has bothered to track me down after my less-than-illustrious exit from the party. No one from Frost Industries, that’s for sure. They’re all either too angry at me for being with Ethan or they’re too wary of doing anything that might upset him.
Sure enough, the guy standing in the restaurant doorway is one of the junior lawyers from Trifecta. Jake or Jace, something like that.
“I’m fine,” I tell him. “Why?”
He seems to take the question as an invitation to join me on the beach where I’m watching the wind tear at the wild, rocky waves.
“You left without your champagne.” He holds a fresh glass out to me. “Thought you might be missing it?”
It’s corny and ridiculous and kind of exactly the right thing to say—so much better than pointing out the fact that I’m one step away from being a social pariah. I laugh despite myself.
“I am missing it.” I take the glass and raise it in a little toast to him. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He moves to stand next to me, his expensive dress shoes making a sucking sound with each step he takes out onto the wet sand. “Chloe, right?”
“Yes. And you’re …” I take a guess. “Jace?”
“I am.” He glances out at the water. “The wind is really kicking it up tonight, isn’t it? It’s a mess out there.”
“I think it’s beautiful.” There’s just something about the sto
rm-tossed water that gets to me every time. The wildness of it, maybe. Or the imperfection. Either way¸ I could stand here all night watching the wind whip the waves into a frenzy.
He nods, but I can tell he doesn’t agree. Or doesn’t get it—I’m not sure which. Before I can decide, a sudden gust of wind comes rushing off the ocean and I shiver despite myself.
“You’re cold.” He shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it over my shoulders. I startle a little when he gets close, cast a look over his shoulder toward the restaurant. Then nearly sigh in relief when I realize that half the main dining room has a perfect view of this beach. More than two dozen people can see us out here right now. I’m as safe as I would be in any public place.
Not that Jace isn’t a perfectly nice guy, but with my history I always figure it’s better to be safe than sorry. It’s the same reason I haven’t touched the champagne he brought me. Again, I don’t think he did anything to it, but a girl can never be too careful with a guy she doesn’t know.
“Want to walk?” he asks after a minute of us standing next to each other, staring out to sea.
“Yeah, sure.” Unlike him, I was smart enough to take my shoes off before I came out here so I’ve got no problem walking down the beach a little, as long as we stay in sight of the restaurant. Besides, anything is better than being inside that stuffy private room with a bunch of people who hate me, wishing the whole time for something that can never be.
“You did well in there today,” he tells me. “Most interns freak out when they get put on the hot seat, but you totally took it in stride.”
“It’s not like I had to do much except pull up some research I’d already done. It wasn’t exactly brain surgery.”
“Still, it was nice to see how calm and cool you were every time your team called on you. I was impressed.”
I was calm and cool mostly because I was too out of it to care, so lost in my mixed feelings for Ethan that I was barely concentrating on where I was or what I was doing. It’s not something I’m proud of, and certainly not anything I plan on telling Jace when he’s complimenting my work ethic. But I’m not going to lie to myself, either—or him.
“You did pretty well in there yourself,” I tell him, because I want to shift the focus off me. And because he really did do well. He brought up three of the main points of contention in the proposed intellectual property merger, and fought for those points like a Doberman. In the end, the Frost Industries team had conceded two of the points, which was a huge win for him and Trifecta. By the end of the afternoon, even Ethan was watching him—more with annoyance than interest, but still.
As we walk, we follow the curve of the building which also follows the natural curve of the beach. It’s beautiful, really, the way the architect designed the restaurant to be a part of the ocean instead of just an observer to it. When the tide is high, it rushes over this beach we are even now standing on and crashes up against the walls of the restaurant, right under the giant picture windows. Tori tells me that if you’re sitting in the dining room, it makes you feel like you’re actually floating in the middle of the ocean. That’s something I’d love to see.
“So, where do you go to school?” Jace asks me as we curve around to the side of the Marine Room.
I start to answer him, but am distracted when a glance at the restaurant reveals that we are now directly in front of the private room where Ethan is hosting dinner. The whole wall we’re standing in front of is made of huge picture windows that give us a perfect view of what’s going on inside.
A quick double take shows me that everyone has finally settled down at the table to order and for a moment, just a moment, I think about going back in. I’m not the least bit hungry—or the least bit interested in sitting down at a table with people who would take great joy in either ignoring me or tearing me to shreds—but I can’t help feeling like I’m shirking my job responsibilities by sitting out here while my boss, her boss and her boss’s boss are all in that room.
“Do you want to go back inside?” Jace asks, seeing the direction I’m looking. “We can finish our walk later.”
“No. I’m good out here. But, please, don’t let me keep you if you’d like to go back in.” I start to shrug out of his jacket.
He stops me with a hand on my shoulder. “I’m fine. I’d much rather be out here with you than in there listening to my colleagues try to one-up each other.”
I laugh because I know exactly what he means.
I catch sight of Ethan, sitting at one of the tables. He’s talking to the woman sitting to his right—one of the senior lawyers from Trifecta—but he keeps glancing at the door, like he’s searching for someone.
My heart speeds up a little at the idea that it might be me he’s looking for. Which is stupid, considering all the promises I’ve made to myself concerning him. But I can’t help it. I know I can’t be with him, know I can’t spend the rest of my life looking into his eyes when I see Brandon staring back at me. It’s not Ethan’s fault and it’s not my fault, either. It’s just how things are.
“So, how long have you been interning at Frost?” Jace asks me.
“I just started this summer.” I deliberately pull my eyes away from Ethan, who is once again looking at the door, and focus on Jace instead. “It’s been a pretty steep learning curve.”
“I bet. But you must be pretty amazing if they’ve got you researching for this merger already. Frost has been after Trifecta for a long time. I’m not sure why, but it’s important to him.”
I know why—he shared the reason with me weeks ago. It’s the same reason he’s been such a stickler about making sure he can lay claim to all of their intellectual property. Trifecta has a revolutionary new treatment for burn victims, one that helps them heal much more quickly and with less scarring than traditional methods. Unfortunately, they don’t have the capital to do what needs to be done to see the treatment gets into the hands of hospitals and the military. Ethan does, and he’s determined to make it happen.
After meeting the men in the burn unit at the local VA hospital, I can understand his single-minded determination. Others might not, but I do. Ethan is a man driven to help those who can’t help themselves and if he’s a bit abrasive about it at times, then I figure it’s well-earned.
“So, what are you doing tonight after this dinner?” Jace asks after the silence between us has lingered a little too long.
“Heading home.” I take what I hope is an unobtrusive step back from him. It’s not that we’re standing particularly close or that he’s done anything to make me feel uncomfortable … and yet, suddenly, it just seems like a little more distance between us would be a good thing. “I’ve got an early morning meeting tomorrow.”
“Geez, Frost is a real slave driver over there, huh? Everybody says that about him, but I didn’t really believe it before now. I can’t believe he isn’t going to cut you guys any slack at all, even after you all but gift wrap this merger for him. What does he want, blood?”
He says it like it’s a joke, but there’s something else there. Something that makes me just a little bit more uncomfortable.
“It’s actually the standard intern meeting. We have one every Wednesday.” I shrug out of his jacket, hold it out to him. “We should probably go back in. It looks like they’ll be ordering any second.”
“Aww, don’t be like that. I didn’t mean to offend you. After watching you today, I didn’t think you had exactly parted amicably.”
“I’m not offended,” I answer, though it’s not quite the truth. I am offended on Ethan’s behalf. He’s one of the most generous employers around—Frost Industries employees have access to a free, on-site clinic, free gym membership, free on-site daycare and three comped meals a day in a state-of-the-art cafeteria. Not to mention generous salary, bonus and vacation schedules. His employees are incredibly important to him and listening to this guy act like they aren’t annoys me no end.
“You’re acting like you’re offended and I hate that I�
��ve done that.” His hand drops to my lower back. “Let me take you out for a drink later. Make it up to you.”
For the first time since he came out on the beach, Jace’s voice sounds low, suggestive. Not necessarily in an insulting way, but still, it makes me nervous, especially since it’s coming on the heels of his comments about Ethan. Suddenly, I’m not so sure which threat I’m supposed to watch out for first—the one from my peers and colleagues or the one from the guy who is currently rubbing my back and who sees nothing but Ethan’s leftovers.
It’s the last straw. Pulling away, I hold his jacket out to him. “Thanks for the champagne and the walk, but I’m going to go back inside now.”
“Come on, Chloe. We were having a good time. Don’t be like that.”
“I’m not being like anything. I just—” I break off as the door leading from the private dining room to the beach suddenly slams open.
Jace and I turn at the same time to see Ethan standing there, a pleasant enough smile on his face and murder in his eyes.
“You okay, Chloe?” he asks, one eyebrow raised as he looks back and forth between us.
“I’m fine, Ethan. Thank you.” Still, I take another step away from Jace. Not because I’m afraid of him—he’s arrogant and insulting but I don’t actually think he’s dangerous—but because I’m concerned my close proximity to him might be hazardous to his health. Especially with Ethan prowling toward us like some kind of avenging angel.
“Shouldn’t you be inside, Mackenzie?” he asks in a voice so low and reasonable that it’s a threat all on its own. “I think your boss is looking for you. Something about your love of free caviar, I believe.”