Page 39 of Chasing Hope

With slow and measured steps, Himesh got off the stage. His gait grew confident as he approached her. For the benefit of the cameras he gave a polite smile. Hope’s skin crawled as his eyes roved over her. He bent his head, inching close to her. The scent of his expensive perfume attacked her nostrils. Hope squeezed her hands into tight fists. ‘You know what is the best part about being the CM?Power.Power to help people I like and power to hurt people I don’t.’ His eyes were intense as they stared her down. It may as well have been just the two of them in the room.

Hope’s throat worked as she spoke past the ball of fury. ‘I’d like to see you try.’ Hope seriously had a death wish.

***

‘Forgive me Father for I am going to sin,’ Hope said with a murmured sigh.

‘My dear child. That’s not how a confession works,’ Fr. Pinto’s light-hearted reply came through from behind the screen.

Hope lifted her shoulders in a half shrug. ‘I know. But I might not be around for the actual confession.’ Hope filled her lungs with peaceful breaths while she closed her eyes, letting the rhythmic sounds of the church bells flow through her.

‘Hope, what have you done this time around?’

Hope raised her chin in a defensive move. ‘Why do you automatically assume I’m at fault?’

A soft chuckle filled the confession booth. ‘We both know you wouldn’t be here if you weren't already guilty of any wrongdoing.’ Hope scoffed. ‘Or shall I say wrongdoings?’

‘Jeez, thanks for your confidence in me.’ A trace of regret crept in her tone. ‘You’re right of course. Ethan fired me. He fired me from my dad’s own company. That’s such bull—’ She hated that she couldn’t rant and fume.

‘Can you blame the boy? In all fairness he did warn you,’ Fr. said in a softly spoken voice. A tremulant sigh left her lips and she buried her face in her palms.

‘Whose side are you on anyways… wait, don’t answer that.’ She already knew the answer to that but didn’t need it to be spelled out to her.

She shut her eyes and dropped her head to the wall of the booth. Her thoughts sprinted back to that afternoon.

The instant she set foot in the office after the press conference, Ethan had already taken the liberty of packing her belongings. Hope snickered as she noticed the cardboard box lying at his feet. Her first thought – he was definitely joking. No way would he fire her. His best reporter. Instead she had another thing coming. Apparently, this time she had taken things too far and he was done defending and dodging her shit.

He did not utter a single word. His expression said it all. All her snappy comebacks had died a painful death.

‘I hate you.’ Her lady parts strongly disagreed. Holier-than-thou, he smirked and relaxed a bulked shoulder against the doorframe. He skimmed his free hand in his pocket and the soft fabric of his shirt stretched to accommodate his broad chest. Jesus, Mary and Joseph. A rush of lust zinged between her thighs, making her feel lightheaded. He looked insanely hot. Somewhere between Channing Tatum inMagic Mikeand George Clooney inOcean’s 11. Ticked off by her lack of restraint, she snarled at him. ‘Just watch, in no time you will be on your knees begging me to come back,’ she hissed, unable to pack enough heat to back up her statement.

‘I would be on my knees, alright. But it would beyouwho’d be doing the begging.’ The nerves in her brain short-circuited.

Oh. My. God.

They shared a long look. His eyes appeared impossibly black as they travelled over her with unwavering thoroughness while he casually sipped coffee out ofher Game of Thronesmug. She let him keep the mug for now. It was safer that way. Because she was too tempted to bash him over the head with it. Hope inwardly cringed at her volatile instincts. When near him, her self-control seemed to lose all sense of direction. The smug SOB. The fervour in his eyes was so strong, it robbed her of her breath. To make matters worse, he wielded his smile like a weapon. An inexorable need settled in the pit of her stomach.

Hope growled at him. ‘I’ll see you tonight. And when I get there, you’d better be naked in bed flaunting that mighty boner.’ Her voice dropped several octaves. ‘Ethan Jacob, I’m going to make you pay for this. More times than you can count.’ She spun on the heels of her sneakers, and her mouth curled up in a smirk at the satisfying sound of him choking on his coffee.

Fr. Pinto called out her name, tugging her out of her thoughts. ‘Hope, now how do you intend to win him back?’

Hope for sure couldn’t discuss her school of thought with Father. ‘I’ll figure something out. I always do,’ she said, unable to hold in her grin.

‘I’m not sure I like the sound of that,’ Father said, sighing heavily. Hope heard the click of Father’s rosary beads as he traced the sign of the cross. ‘Ethan will be in my prayers tonight. Lord knows he will need all the help he can get.’

Chapter Twenty-Three

Ah! The magic of silence. Ethan sighed and relaxed in the comfy cushioned cane chair. Smiling, he inhaled the delicious aroma of bread baking. He lugged his long legs, dropping them on the coffee table. No other place on earth gave his soul this placid sense of belonging. Ethan swept his gaze around the medium-sized cosy portico. Pastel-yellow walls set off a warm and homely vibe. White picket fence bordered the house, giving it the appearance of a quaint countryside cottage. The crisp, lush green exterior caught the eye of anyone passing by. Aware that his grandma loved to entertain, Ethan had a modern backyard built, keying in a rustic touch. It made for a perfect location for luncheons with her church buddies.

Planning years ahead, Ethan had purchased this prime property in Pali Hill, Mumbai, knowing he would want his grandparents to relocate to Mumbai someday. Unfortunately, his granddad did not live to see this place after Ethan had personally taken up the renovation of the old town house and converted it into a breathtakingly beautiful home for his grandma.

The loud thumping of shoes disrupted his peace and Ethan closed his eyes, hoping the jerk would take the hint and leave. No such luck.

‘Get your muddy shoes off the coffee table.’ Ethan popped an eye open and gave the jackass a one-eyed dirty look. Aarav slapped Ethan’s thigh, impelling him to get them off.

Ethan uncrossed his feet and his sneakers hit the floor. His faded jeans and vest tee had seen better days. Ethan raked his fingers through his wind-swept hair and entwined them behind his head. It felt great to not have to be bothered about his appearance for a change. Being in front of the camera every day, making sure you were impeccable all the bloody time, could be quite exhausting.

‘Well aren’t you a waste of six million years of evolution.’

---