“I don’t know what we’re doing, Ethan,” I finally say. “Your life is established and secure. Mine is not. I have a lot on the line. I don’t want to be some pet project the board tolerates because you’re you. That’s—degrading and embarrassing. And if that’s what this is, please just let me leave now.”
“I don’t do pet projects, Sofia, and the board wouldn’t believe that of me, either. That’s not who I am.”
“And yet, you invited me to Paris?”
“To train with an elite in your field, and while that’s good for your resume, from my strictly business perspective, you earning approval and respect by way of this mentorship also validates the board is investing smartly.”
“You live in Paris,” I point out. “You invited me to Paris.”
“To learn. And yes, I live in Paris. So does the mentor.”
“Who you chose.”
“Because it’s a smart choice,” he counters.
“What if the board finds out we are—or we did, and—?”
“Weare,” he amends. “And you’re creating fire where there’s no flame. The mentor lives on the other side of Paris, and the company is providing you an apartment.”
Oh, I think, disappointment stabbing at me. I’m not going to be as close to him as I’d thought.
At all.
We aremeansnow.We aren’tmeans Paris.
Desperate to hide the disappointment spiraling through me, I focus on details and questions. “When do I need to be in Paris?”
“When can you leave?”
“Do I have time to go home and check on my father?” And since that sounds silly, considering my father is a grown man, I add, “I want to talk to him about his business.”
“Talk to him by wiring him money,” he encourages. “The sooner you finish the mentorship, the sooner you can offer him real support. That’s when the real money will come.”
“I haven’t looked at the numbers closely enough to know what that means. And to be frank, I’m not sure I’ll understand them enough to decipher it all. This side of things is new to me.”
“It’s fair, I promise, but you need to show it to an attorney. If you don’t have one, I’ll connect you with a firm I know well here in the morning. We will have to move your flight, if you are okay with that.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Good. She’s someone who will get you in tomorrow as a favor, but won’t look out for me over you, I promise. She’s ethical and will advise you to my detriment.”
I tilt my head to study him. “And you’re still referring me to her?”
“I know I was fair. I don’t screw people. That’s not who I am.”
I’m reminded again of many of the things he said to me in Hawaii. He’s brutally honest, because he values honesty. “I believe you,” I say, guilt stabbing at me over the lie I’d told him. “Ethan, I swear to you, I’m not someone who lies. It’s not who I am.”
“I know that, Sofia, or you wouldn’t be here.”
“How can you know that?”
“Do you know what your father did both right and wrong with me?”
“My father?” My brows knit, not sure where this change of topic is headed. “What?”
“He was so damn honest. I wanted to help him, but the business side of me couldn’t justify it. I know what you’re made of, and it’s not lies.”
He’s right. My father is the most honest man I know. It really means a lot to me that Ethan sees that in him.