Page 44 of My Enemy, My Obsession

I tilt my head to study him. “Do you do that?”

“I think it’s safe to say, I surround myself with far too many of the same kinds of people.”

But he doesn’t say like minds, I notice, and I’m curious about that exclusion. There are so many layers to this man I can’t begin to understand, but I find myself wanting to very much. His cellphone rings, and he captures my hand and kisses it. “I have to—”

“I know,” I say. “And we have to go soon anyway.”

There is a flicker of something in his eyes I cannot name no matter how hard I try before he turns away from me, and then he is gone, leaving me in the bathroom to finish up. There is an energy betweenus that wasn’t there before, I realize, that no longer feels like sex and only sex, at least not to me. I caution myself to not go too far down that rabbit hole. He is a powerful man who may well be looking for a distraction and a dalliance. As long as I remember that, I’ll be just fine. And we’ve only known each other a short while anyway.

So what if I’m not the girl who is made for flings and unemotional connections? The minute I start feeling even a pinch of falling in love, I’ll simply walk away. And I’m sure he’d be relieved for it, too.

I dress in a black suit dress, that is body hugging, but highly professional, and strappy black heels. Ethan is quick to inspect me and pull me close. “You’re beautiful, Sofia,” he says, and his voice is this low, rough baritone that does funny things to my belly.

“So are you,” I say, my hands running over the sharp line of his perfect jaw.

His lips curve. “I’m beautiful?”

“Yes,” I say. “You really are.”

He laughs, and it’s such a genuine, charming laugh my belly is back to fluttering.

With the mood light between us, we head downstairs. A car service drives us to the restaurant, which is not caviar and champagne, but rather diner style, which pleases me. The choice somehow humanizes Ethan despite the fact that he looks like sex and power in a blue pinstriped suit that is clearly custom fitted. We claim a cozy, smallish booth by the window and sit across from each other.

It’s not long until we have steaming coffee and menus in front of us. I eye the plates of pancakes and fancy breakfast sandwiches passing by our table, all of which look delicious and like a nap in process. “What do you suggest?” I ask, sipping my brew.

“Everything is good. I’ve tried most of it, but on a workday like today, I normally get the egg white omelet, which is healthy but doesn’t come close to tasting like it.”

“Sold,” I say. “I’m all in.”

A few minutes later, we’ve ordered, and we turn to business. “Is there anything I should know before the meeting?”

“Harper and I have known each other for years.”

“Is she your attorney? Is that a conflict of interest?”

“I know her from school and the fact that she dated a friend of mine for about thirty seconds. They were horrible together on that front, but somehow, they became friends. She’s good. I’d use her myself if there wasn’t that personal connection. I don’t like to mix business with—”

“Personal,” I supply.

“And you, Sofia, are the exception to the rule I can’t help but break.”

“I’m not sure what to say to that.”

“Neither am I, baby. Neither am I.”

The endearment is intimate and familiar now in ways I’d never have expected. I like it. Perhaps a little too much for my own good.

Our food arrives, and it’s truly the best omelet I’ve ever had, complete with cheese and freshly prepared veggies, while Ethan’s is packed with meat and cheese. While we eat, he asks me a lot of questions about my designs, my motivation, and my inspiration, which leads to me talking about my mother.

Our plates have been cleared, and I’m trying to pull some history from Ethan, but it’s like pulling teeth. When I’m starting to feel weird about it, he seems to read me and leans in closer. “I am not nearly as interesting as you are, Sofia.”

“We both know that’s not true, but your business is your business, Ethan.”

He captures my leg under the table and my hand, where it rests by my cup. “What if I don’t want it to be?”

His touch is fire, and I’m burning alive, and that’s what scares me. “I think you do. And like I said, that’s okay.”

“I don’t think you’ll like what you’ll see when you really get to know me, Sofia. I’m not ready for that to happen.”

---