Page 14 of In Bed with the Enemy

I gave him a sad smile. "You have no idea," I replied.

He looked like a nice man. A little older with bright white hair and a matching mustache. He had kind eyes and I knew I'd be okay opening up to him.

"You know, I've been doing this job for a while now, and I promise it's never as bad as it seems."

I twisted my lips as he handed me the glass of wine. "Yeah, I dunno. I think I might have broken the trend."

"Doubtful," he said with a bit of a chuckle. "Talk about it?"

I shrugged as I took a sip of my wine, trying to replace the liquid courage I thought I had when I'd come down to the bar. "I just made a fool of myself in a potentially career-ending way."

"Is that all?" the bartender asked, wiping down the countertop.

I gave him an exasperated look and he put up his hands in defense. "I don't mean to make light of what happened. Living through these sorts of things is always difficult. But, you will live. It's not health, so you can get through it," he said in a knowing voice.

Before I had the chance to let out another large sigh, my food appeared. I smiled as the grilled cheese and fries were placed in front of me. I grabbed the bottle of ketchup and squeezed as much as I could onto my plate.

Just as I was about to shove the first french fry into my mouth, something vibrated in my pocket. I fished out my phone and looked at the number on the screen, knowing I probably shouldn't pick up in my slightly inebriated state. But, I still did.

"Hello? This is Amy."

"Amy, yes, hi." It was Jon, one of the company's clients and one of the few investors who had believed in my project and decided to implement it on a few solar fields they had under lease. "Look, Amy, I hate to call you at this hour with bad news, but I wanted to tell you directly before you found out on Monday."

"Tell me what, Jon?" I asked, already knowing what he was going to say.

"We're pulling out, Amy."

"Why?"

Jon sighed. "I think you know why, Amy. I am sorry. I wish you all the best." The line clicked dead and the tears started to well in my eyes again.

I brushed them aside and dropped my phone onto the bartop, letting it clatter against the cold stone. "It doesn't matter," I said, apparently out loud.

The bartender gave me a sad smile, but I was over everyone's pity for the night. I should have just ordered another bottle of wine and my food to go. Why hadn't I thought of that?

I started to stand, grabbing my plate and the glass, but the room was spinning a bit more than I had anticipated.

"I think you better just sit down, Miss," the bartender said to me, making his way around the bar to help me.

"No!" I said back. "I want to go back to my room."

"Amy?"

I tried to turn at hearing my name and almost dropped my plate when someone touched my shoulder, startling me. I thought it was the bartender, but as I turned to look, I realized just how very wrong I was.

There was Ethan Greene.

The picture of pure confidence.

Standing there with his hand on my shoulder, helping to steady me.

I looked him up and down, finally meeting his gaze.

I held it for several seconds, trying to process just how sad his eyes looked.

I hadn't realized it until now.

Ethan Greene had sad eyes.

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