Page 11 of Accidental Dad’s Best Friend (Unintentionally Yours #7)

Ethan

“ I ’m going to be leaving early today, Rose.” I set a folder of papers on the secretary’s desk before checking the notifications on my phone.

“Early again?” Rose says with a teasing smile. “And yesterday you were late. Whatever will Mr. Sloane think?”

“Liam isn’t my keeper.” I mutter without looking up from my phone. I have emails a mile long from the journalist staff. I might have to have a meeting just to put everyone’s training wheels back on before I leave for dinner tonight.

“No but he is your boss. And he’s been extra grumpy recently.”

I shove my phone in my pocket and look down at her.

Rose is a middle aged woman, mid thirties maybe.

And while I wouldn’t say she’s not attractive, she’s not my type.

She’s a meddler for one, always snooping on office business that isn’t her business.

I’m not gonna lie, I’ve thought about suggesting to Liam that we find someone else.

But he seems to like her and she seems okay with keeping secrets.

If I ask her to do something, she does it.

And considering the amount of work I have cut out for me right now, I kind of need that.

Obviously, she has no idea about Izzy and the article.

But she doesn’t ask questions when I ask her to cover for me.

“Yeah well, when is he not?” I smile at Rose and she blushes, her lips tugging into a full blown grin.

“I’ll make sure everything is taken care of, Ethan. I mean Mr. Savage. I mean–”

“Ethan is fine.” I say, completely indifferent to it. If I am going to herd the turkeys before I leave today I don’t even have time to piss. I make my way back to my office but not before hearing Rose whisper.

“Ethan.”

Whatever.

The details of the day keep me pressed until 4:59 and I’m pissed that I don’t even have time to change. I also don’t know why I care so much.

It’s just dinner.

Sushi at a small restaurant off 16th Street downtown.

It’s on the newer side but it’s popular– too popular in my opinion– and I’ve been here a handful of times.

Liam loves it. That in itself is another reason I am nervous.

When I promised Izzy that her dad would know nothing about our business matter, I guess in my head I meant that I’d keep him away from her entirely.

She has no interest in running into him ever and if he saw me with her, well that would be another dumpster fire entirely.

I request a table in the back, away from the bar.

Liam likes to sit at the bar because it’s situated right in the middle of Blue Fin Sushi.

The bartenders are all women and I’m sure that has something to do with it too.

In the back corner, in a booth lit by candle away from the limelight of the bar, I can keep us hidden. Safe.

“This is so fancy,” Izzy smiles as she squeezes a lemon wedge over her glass of water.

“Do you want anything else to drink?” I ask, handing her the cocktail menu.

Izzy takes it, her eyes slowly trailing over the descriptions. As she reads, she nibbles on her lower lip. It’s enough to undo me but I don’t show it.

“Maybe the Malibu Orchid,” she says. “But I really shouldn’t.”

“And why not?”

“Coconut rum, fruit punch, raspberry liqueur. That’s a lot of sugar.”

“And?”

Izzy smiles and motions over her body. “Do I look like I am in the habit of saying no to sugar?”

She laughs but it makes me angry. She’s wearing an orange dress.

And while I’m normally not a huge fan of loud colors, it brings out the color of her.

The fiery tones that usually only show face in sunkissed lighting.

It also brings more color to her face making her eyes bluer, her lips pinker and my cock harder.

“Do I look like I give a fuck about things like that?” I ask. My words are harsh but it doesn’t seem to faze Izzy. She simply sets the menu aside and reaches for an edamame pod, dipping it in soy sauce before nibbling on it.

“Most guys care.”

I lean in. I’m done with being compared to the douchebags she’s typically in the company of, whoever they are. “I am not most guys.”

Izzy’s eyes lock on mine and there’s a moment of heated silence between us before she sucks in a breath, indifferently. “No, I don’t suppose you are.”

We order our cocktails and a sushi platter to share. Meanwhile, Izzy sways to the music, admiring the ambiance and I shift in my seat, trying to find a way to comfortably sit with a full blown hard-on.

“I never go to places like this,” she says as we sip on our drinks.

“Why not?” I ask, making a point of ordering the next round with a heavier pour.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s like I’m nervous or something.

I’m never nervous about anything. But I think the fact that Izzy doesn’t seem to have a care in the world is making it worse.

She’s got an edge on me. I love it and hate it and don’t know what the fuck to do about it.

I loosen my tie, wondering why I am still wearing it in the first place.

“I guess I never have anyone to go with. But also, I’m kind of a homebody, to be honest.”

I snort at that, undoing the first two buttons of my shirt while I’m at it.

“Are you making fun of me?” She asks with a grin, the cocktail straw teasing her lip as she pauses before taking another sip.

“Not at all. I just don’t know what that’s like.”

“Being at home?”

“Not having places I have to be. Between running the journalism staff and trying to keep your dad at bay, I am either always in the office or always at a meeting. I don’t even eat dinner without discussing business most of the time. It’s exhausting.”

Izzy’s smile fades and she glances around the room uneasily.

I mentally kick myself.

“He’s not here,” I say in a low, soft voice. “I’ve made sure of it.”

Izzy nods as the server sets our sushi rolls down in front of us.

We each select a few and place them on our plates along with some ginger and wasabi.

For a moment, we eat and I simply watch her.

She chews thoughtfully as if she is trying to identify every spice, every flavor and every texture.

She appreciates everything. Enjoys everything.

For a girl who has spent most of her life trying to be good enough for the wrong people and then the other part of her life running from those same people, she is rather remarkable.

“You wanna know something crazy?” She asks while dabbing her lips with a cloth napkin. “I haven’t talked to my dad since the last time I saw you.”

I narrow my eyes as I try to piece that all together. “You mean the day we went to–”

“Backporch. He texted me the next day. Asked how work was going.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“That I had a job. Of course, I didn’t. But I actually considered calling you back about your offer.”

My eyes widen. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because I almost wondered if it was too much of a coincidence. You working for him offering me a random job, then he contacts me when I turn it down. I guess I wondered if he had something to do with that day.”

I shake my head immediately. “Your dad knew nothing about the job offer, Izzy. I did that because I thought what he was doing to you was shitty. I mean, yeah, you went off the rails at Slay. But it just shows that you refuse to be a sheep in the public eye. It’s reckless but admirable.

And that’s why I want you writing this article. ”

Izzy nods, thinking about that. And while she does I think about what she just said too.

“Is that why you just left without so much as a goodbye?” I ask.

“Pretty much. That and I needed…a change.” Her eyes are suddenly glassy but it’s like it has nothing to do with the rum. Her mind is somewhere else. “I had to get away.”

Again, there’s something secretive in her voice. But between the great food, toasty drinks, and the lighting that has her looking like a spring flower in the winter time, I don’t want to ruin the evening. So I don’t press it.

We walk out of the restaurant and the night breeze wraps itself around my lungs. I breathe it in, loving Colorado’s brisk, thin air. Most people come here and can’t breathe. I think it’s easier. It’s clean, unfiltered and there’s no heaviness to it.

For a moment we stand on the curb. My hands are in my pockets and hers are clasped in front of her. I nudge her softly with my elbow.

“Where did you park?”

“To the right.” She nods. “What about you?”

“At home. My place is literally two blocks from here.”

“Oh,” she giggles. “That’s convenient.”

“Yeah…” I smile.

Then she turns to me. “So which way are we going?” At first, I didn't think I heard her right. But when I look at her, there’s that same wild storm in her eyes that I saw five years ago and I know I did. “A nightcap sounds nice right now. And I’m not ready to go home.”

I hold out my elbow and she hooks her hand inside. Then I lead her back to my place, my nerves buzzing with electricity. Izzy kicks her heels off the moment she is in the foyer of my flat and looks around.

“This is nice.”

“Thanks,” I say, hanging my keys on the hook and then tossing my tie aside all together. “It’s home, I guess.”

“You guess?” She asks, circling the kitchen before making her way to the living room. Her mouth drops at the floor to ceiling windows that showcase a high rise view of the city. I stop at the wine cooler and pull out a bottle of chardonnay with a small shrug.

“I mean it’s great and all. But it’s lonely.”

“Even with all the girls you bring home?” She teases.

I chuckle dryly. “Yeah that’s not really a thing.”

“That’s surprising,” she says, sitting on the couch.

I make my way to her with two glasses of wine.

“Why? You think I’m a fuckboy?” I hand her the glass but don’t let go right away, forcing contact between our fingers.

“No. But I do think it’s shocking that you don’t have anyone special in your life.”

I sit down next to her, never losing eye contact. “I never said that either,” I whisper gruffly.