Page 96 of Pucking my Enemy Boss

“Need any help there?”

The voice is smooth yet unmistakably amused and when I turn around, I see it belongs to none other than the woman I saw with Ethan in the mall the last time I was here. She stands, draped in a scarf that probably cost more than most people’s rent, her coat pristine as if snowflakes dare not touch it.

“We don’t know each other.” I turn back to the supplies.

“You’re Ethan’s girlfriend, aren’t you?”

My hand freezes mid-reach toward a particularly festive wreath she’d been eyeing.

“And you’re the woman I saw with Ethan at the mall,” I keep my tone light but my brow arches just enough to signal I’m not about to play nice.

The woman’s expression flickers with something—guilt? Amusement? Hard to say. “Look, I can explain,” she says, voice tinged with a note of pleading.

“Oh, good, I’ve been dying for that.” My hand shifts to my hip, bags dangling, ready for whatever story she might try spinning.

We find a table in a nearby coffee shop. Mandy adjusts her scarf as though stalling, and for a second, I wonder if she’ll say anything at all. But she surprises me.

“I’m Mandy. Ethan’s cousin.”

My eyes narrow. “I already met with one of his cousins?—”

“That must be my brother, Jake. You should be wary of him.”

I lift my chin to see her face. “I don’t understand. Why are you even speaking to me?”

“Guilt,” she mumbles. “I wasn’t … completely honest with Ethan.” She takes a breath, glancing around as if afraid the Christmas decorations might rat her out. “I wanted something from Ethan, something financial, and I … I lied about my intentions.”

My mind races, pieces of past doubts sliding into place like a puzzle. "I still don’t understand.”

The coffee shop hums with chatter, a soft symphony of clinking mugs and the hiss of the espresso machine. Holiday garlands drape over the windows, their gold and red colors catching the winter light like glittering secrets. Mandy sits across from me, her fingers wrapped tightly around a chipped ceramic mug, eyes darting like a rabbit ready to bolt.

“So,” I say, breaking the silence that’s stretched too long. “What’s the story, Mandy? Why are you here, really?”

Mandy takes a shaky breath, her chest rising and falling as if she’s about to dive into a pool of ice water. “I came because you need to know the truth about Ethan. About us. The Carters.”

A shiver rolls down my spine, settling low and deep. The Carters. It sounds almost ominous, like something out of a dark fairy tale. “Go on.”

Her eyes, a shade lighter than Ethan’s stormy blues, flick up to meet mine. “Growing up, Ethan and David had it rough. My dad—Uncle Frank—and my brother Jake saw Ethan as a meal ticket, not family. The boys were used, constantly reminded that they owed us everything for taking them in after their parents died.” Her voice tightens, eyes glossing over with memories that seem too sharp to touch.

A pang of something hot and bitter coils in my chest. Images of Ethan, the quiet strength and the shadows that haunt the corners of his smiles, suddenly make too much sense.

“And David?” The question is a whisper, as fragile as spun sugar.

Mandy’s shoulders droop. “David was the soft one, always trying to keep the peace. But it wasn’t enough. The pressure broke him before that accident did.” Her voice cracks, and she looks away, eyes finding solace in the twinkling lights strung above us.

There’s a moment when the clatter of the café fades, and only the pulse in my ears remains, loud and insistent. “And Jake? What does he have to do with this?”

Mandy’s jaw tightens, lips pressing into a thin, pale line. “Jake’s been trying to ruin Ethan ever since he left Duluth. He never forgave him for escaping, for finding success. He’s teamed up with Raymond Blue, a reporter with a personal vendettaagainst Ethan. They asked me to help smear his name, to drag him down.”

A sharp intake of breath is all I can manage as the room tilts, the weight of her confession pressing down like a storm cloud. “And you said ... no?”

“I said no,” Mandy confirms, her voice stronger now, resolute. “I may be a Carter, but I’m not heartless. I know what Ethan’s been through. He deserves peace, not this mess.”

Something loosens in my chest, a tension I hadn’t realized was coiled there. “You should’ve told him,” I murmur, more to myself than to her.

Mandy’s smile is small, sad. “He’d never accept my help, not after everything. But he talked about you, you know.” Her gaze softens, and for a moment, the resemblance to Ethan is startling. “He spoke about you like you were ... home. I’ve never seen him light up like that.”

Tears prick the edges of my eyes, and I blink them away, the weight of guilt pressing down hard. All this time, I’d been looking at the idea of family through a shattered lens. It wasn’t that Ethan couldn’t love or didn’t want one. It was the scars from the one he already had that kept him guarded, wounded.

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