Page 42 of The Bargain (Dalton Family #2)

Sofia

A short walk from the elevator and we’re in his apartment, and his place is stunning.

Rich wood floors. Brown rustic leather furnishings.

Gorgeous double-pane windows set between dark wood and stretching high and low.

But the bar in the center of the room is the show stealer.

It’s the same wood as the walls, slightly darker than the floor, and the center is a tan color with a backlight.

On either side, there are rows and rows of different kinds of whiskey.

To the right is a thick beam that is a rich dark brick with varied colors: orange, tan, green, and brown.

The chandelier above the seating area is massive, round, and bronze.

As for the kitchen, the room is open concept, and it is, of course, equipped with a giant island that is a wood plank.

“It’s stunning,” I say as he steps behind me.

“Masculine. Too masculine?”

“No. Of course not. It’s beautiful. Did you have a designer?”

“I did. She showed me samples and photos. I was busy at the time and pretty much just told her to do it.”

“She did a great job.”

“She charged me a fortune.” He captures my arms and turns me to face him. “This is your home, too. Treat it that way.”

“Ethan—”

“I’m not kidding. Nothing is off limits. Open it. Shut it. Look inside it. I have nothing to hide from you. And I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me, too,” I whisper, emotions welling in my chest. He makes me feel as if I belong with him, and I warn myself to be cautious. Once two people really get to know each other, what feels like forever can become one more day.

He motions up a set of steel steps. “Gym’s upstairs on that side, along with an indoor pool. The bedroom is the door right beneath the stairs. Downstairs is my office and some extra rooms.”

There’s a knock on the door. “That will be our bags and maybe our pizza. There should be water in the fridge; can you grab us some? We’ll need to order groceries in the morning.”

“Yes. I got it.”

He walks to the door. “And there should be napkins,” he calls out.

I hurry toward the kitchen and open the fancy double door stainless-steel fridge, grab a couple glass bottles of water and the paper towels.

By the time I’ve got what we need, Ethan is setting a pizza box on the counter.

A few minutes later, we’re sitting at the island, and I’m answering a text from my dad to tell him we’re safe and stuffing my face with delicious pizza.

“I love that we can get this late at night.”

“There’s a lot more of that here than in most cities,” he assures me. “Do you like to cook?”

“My mother did,” I say, “but it’s just me, so I don’t really stretch that muscle, though this kitchen could change my mind.”

“You’re going to be too busy to enjoy much else, I promise.”

His cellphone rings, and his brow knits. “It’s almost midnight. Who the fuck is calling me?”

There’s a flutter of unease in me that matches his energy.

Late-night calls are never good. And the minute he spies the number on his screen, he grits his teeth.

He shows it to me, and it reads “Anna.” My belly knots at the very idea of her, but he declines the call.

“I’m starting to think a lot of this is her games. ”

“What if it isn’t?” I say, despite the clawing inside me, seeing her name on his phone creates. She’s gorgeous. She was supposed to marry him. She has him on auto-dial, but if he wants her, I shouldn’t be here. I don’t think he wants her. Not at all.

“What if it’s about your brother? What if something is wrong?” His phone starts ringing again. I grab it where he sat it on the counter and offer it to him. “Take it.”

“She’ll text if it’s important.”

“Ethan—”

He leans in and kisses me. “I am not talking to her.”

“I’m okay if you need to.”

“I know. And I love that about you.” He reaches for another slice of pizza. “Are you nervous about tomorrow?”

I hesitate, not wanting him to ignore Anna, my gut telling me something is wrong. “I am. Ethan, I think you should call her back.”

His cellphone rings again, and this time when I glance at caller ID, it has his brother’s name. “It’s your brother. Maybe something is wrong with your dad.”

He sets his slice down and grabs the phone. “Grant?” he answers and listens a moment that turns into ten before he says, “I’ll be right over.” He disconnects. “I’m sorry to do this on our first night here. He’s losing his shit. Threatening to kill himself.”

“Oh my God. Ethan. Go. Go now.”

“This is what he does. He creates drama.”

“Maybe he’s crying out for help.”

“More like rescue from his stupidity. Believe me, baby, it’s been a decades long cycle with him.

Maybe it’s become like the little boy who cried wolf.

Maybe. That’s why I always go when he calls.

That fear that the one time I don’t is the time he gets serious.

” He pushes to his feet, and I follow. “Don’t wait up for me.

I’m sorry I can’t show you to the bed properly. ”

“Your brother is what matters right now. I’ll be here waiting on you.”

“If this is nothing more than one of his head games I’m going to be pissed.”

“And relieved.”

“Call me cold, but I’m immune to this. I’m telling you. It’s what he does.” I follow him to the door, and he kisses me. “I’ll try to be fast.”

“Don’t be fast. Even if this is just like the other times, and I hope that’s all it is, you need to end this cycle. Find a solution. But first, make sure he’s safe. Text me that’s he’s okay if you can.”

“I will, baby.” He folds me close, his hand on the back of my head.

“You have no idea how much I need you here with me, but I can promise you this: you will. I’ll make sure of it.

” He kisses me again, and then he’s gone, only he’s right back with our suitcases.

“You want me to get yours to the bedroom?”

“I want you to go to your brother,” I say, and he leans in, kisses me again, and this time, he’s gone.

I shut the door and lock it, grab the suitcases, and roll them toward the bedroom, more than a little eager to see Ethan’s king’s chamber.

Struggling a bit with both cases, I stumble and hit my heel, but I achieve my task.

Both cases are in the bedroom when I turn on the light.

And holy wow, it’s gorgeous. Brick that matches the wall by the living room bar is behind the massive king-sized bed, and the window is just one big pane, with a view of lights and shadowy jutting buildings.

I walk to the brown leather-framed bed and sit down.

The room smells like him, woodsy and masculine, and I decide it most likely drugs me with his presence, even when he’s not here.

I’ve just plopped back onto the comfy mattress when the doorbell rings.

My brows dip, and I sit up straight. Did Ethan forget something, and I locked him out?

Or maybe there’s another suitcase? I push to my feet and rush into the living room, realizing I need to put up the pizza and clean the kitchen, too.

Without much caution, I throw open the door.

Anna stands there, looking as stunning as ever, her red hair in waves at her shoulders.

“I told Eric I’d bring this case up to you.

” She’s holding Ethan’s briefcase, and apparently Eric likes the deep V of her cleavage enough to allow her to the top floor.

“I didn’t expect to see you here. I need to see Ethan. ”

“He’s not here.” I’m not even thinking of letting her in. I reach for the bag, and she begrudgingly hands it over to me.

She sniffs the air. “I smell Marcos. He loves that place. I see he’s recreating our little habits with you. Where is he if he’s not here?”

“He went to see Grant.”

“Ah. Right. Good thing. Grant’s so fucked up. He’s nothing like Ethan.”

It hits me then, that if Grant was suicidal, she’d be with him. Wouldn’t she? What kind of game are they playing? Are they in on it together or both coming at Ethan with a different deck of cards? Ethan has made it clear that both of them like their games.

“I guess you’re not going to invite me in?” she dares suggest, as if I’d consider any such thing.

“It’s late.”

“Right. Well, let me just give you a few words of advice, since we most likely won’t get any more one-on-one time.

Be a good girl. Keep being a good girl. He likes that.

Perform for him, and you will end up on his arm and in his home, just like you are now.

Don’t slip. I forgot how important it was for him, and he kicked me to the curb.

Enjoy that pizza.” With that, she turns on her heels and walks away.

I slam the door, and my back hits the wood surface. He calls me a good girl. Is that what this is? Him replacing her with me?

Was she really his good girl, too?

Clearly, the answer is yes.

The end…