Page 71 of The Enemy of My Enemy Is… My Fake Boyfriend?

Someone knocked on the door again, a different employee, asking to speak to Ethan before she left for the day. Thinking Ethan would ask us to step out of his office, I was surprised when he instead exited the room, leaving David and me alone.

And then the gushing truly began, David having nothing but praise for Ethan. I watched in awe, wondering if Ethan had put him up to it, but it didn't seem that way, not with David telling me his whole life story, how no one ever gave him a chance until Ethan took him under his wing, letting him screw things up and find his way.

He went on and on about how much he admired his boss, how everyone at BlackCode Solutions did, how Ethan was so even-tempered, never lost his cool, and encouraged his employees every single day, and you could tell because no one ever left.

I looked out the door, noticing that there were still quite a few people sticking around despite the hour getting later and later. And he was right, that good vibe I'd noticed was still present, nobody grumbling or complaining, just a content murmur of voices mixed with occasional laughter.

David excused himself to get more coffee, not that the man needed any in my opinion, and I found myself all alone in Ethan's office, sitting in his big chair, reeling from all that David had said.

One thing was clear to me though... I had made the right choice in saying yes to Ethan. It wasn't just me blurtingsomething out because I was feeling pressured. I definitely did want to continue fake dating him.

I gave myself a spin in his chair, something I did at my own job, something I'd been doing since I was a little girl visiting her daddy in his big office. When I'd made a full circle, coming to a stop with Ethan's desk right in front of me, I realized this was a prime opportunity for some snooping.

With a glance out the still open door, I slowly opened Ethan's top desk drawer, wondering what on earth a man like Ethan would have in there.

As expected, there were a few pens, a black sharpie, a small leather-bound notebook, sticky notes. In a little tray off to one side, I found what I discovered to be flash drives in interesting shapes like an old key, a batman head, and a mini flask. Interesting.

I kept digging to find ear buds, portable chargers, and a pocket knife. Typical stuff. It was interesting but not at all what I was hoping to find, which was something personal or meaningful, something that would give me insight into Ethan's psyche.

Opening the drawer farther, almost all the way to the back, I spotted two very intriguing things at once—a crumpled piece of paper and a flower.

A flower?

I held it up and examined it, the withered pink petals that were brown at the edges, like it wasn't that old. Knowing I didn't have much time, I quickly grabbed the paper and studied it.

It'd been ripped to shreds then taped back together, every bit of the surface covered in the tape, keeping it in one piece. There was writing on there, faded and hard to read. Holding it close, I squinted at it and realized the cursive words were actually song titles. As I read through them, I recognized one, and my heart started to pound with the dawning of what this actually was.

Holy shit.

I held in my hands the song titles to the mix tape that Ethan's dad had made for his mom, the last thing Ethan had of them, that he'd mentioned had been destroyed somehow.

My heart beating like a hummingbird, I quickly retrieved my phone and took a picture of it, knowing instinctively if Ethan saw me with it he'd be pissed off. This was intensely private, and I wondered why he even had it at work. But also, who would ever go poking around in his private, personal desk drawer besides me? No one would dare.

Putting everything away, I quickly closed the drawer, folding my hands innocently and placing them across the top of his desk. Taking a few deep breaths, I tried to steady myself and calm my racing pulse, my heart taking off again when Ethan entered the room.

He knew. He had to know. There were probably cameras in here. Of course there were cameras in here. God, I was such an idiot.

There was a long pause as we simply looked at each other, Ethan standing in the doorway, his face in shadows. Could he hear the pounding of my heart?

"So..." he said. "Is there something you wanted to tell me?"

"Who? What? Me?" I jumped up, banging my knee against his desk, accidentally sweeping my bag off the chair and dumping its contents to the floor.

Without saying anything, Ethan crossed the room and helped me put everything back, my stupid poetry journal, pens, makeup, gum, all the junk I'd stuffed in there. He handed me the envelope from before, the one that had cemented this visit in the first place, and I handed it back to him, a question in his eyes.

"Open it," I said, kind of relieved at the change of topic, even if I hated the topic.

It took a moment for him to scan the document, his eyes narrowing as he read. "What the fuck?" he muttered.

"Right?"

"He has the nerve to sueyou?"

"Apparently so."

He shook his head, his grip tightening on the papers, crumpling the edges. "Property damage, intentional infliction of emotional distress, punitive damages," he read. "This is such bullshit. If anyone should be suing, it's you."

I held my breath, wondering if I'd made the right choice in coming to Ethan with this. My dad with all his expertise would have been the better option, but he didn't know about me destroying Chase's things, and I really didn't want to tell him.

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