I watch from the doorway of his office as he pushes through the “Employees Only” door. Then, I race toward it, pushing it open a couple inches until I have a slim view of the corner booth. Ethan strides toward Edward like a man on a mission.
Their argument appears heated, with Edward rolling his eyes and shaking his head as if he can’t believe what Ethan is saying. I can’t hear their conversation from here, but I can feel the rage coming off both of them as Ethan folds his arms across his chest and they stare at each other for a long moment.
Finally, Edward stands up and they come face to face. This doesn’t look good. Maybe I should go out there and break them up. If only I could hear what they’re saying.
I’m about to push the door open to head into the dining room, when Edward starts shouting.
“You’re kicking your brother out on opening night?”
Ethan doesn’t react. He simply stares at Edward with such contempt I can feel it across the room. After another staring contest, Edward turns around suddenly, knocking over a glass of ice water near the edge of the table. The lavender-haired woman gasps as the cold liquid rolls off the starched tablecloth and lands in her lap. Edward grabs her wrist, yanking her out of the booth before she can grab a napkin to sop up the water.
“Out of my way!” Edward barks at our busboy, Emilio, who has raced over to offer the woman a clean towel.
Edward and the lavender pixie storm past the other slack-jawed patrons. The couple that arrived with Edward trails not far behind, and all four of them soon disappear into the bustle of the dark city.
Ethan helps Emilio clear off the table, then he announces to the entire dining room that everyone’s dinner is on the house. This elicits an enormous round of applause and profuse expressions of gratitude. I quickly retreat back to Ethan’s office before he can catch me watching him.
Taking a seat in the chair, I can’t wipe the smile off my face as I wait for him to return. When he enters the office, immediately closing the door behind him, the intensity of his energy makes me wonder if he may be upset with me. Maybe he feels like I pressured him into doing what he just did.
He looks down at me with an unreadable look in his eyes. “Get up.”
He’s upset with me.
I let out a deep sigh as I rise from the chair.
But I’m not worried about the possibility Ethan is angry with me. I’m anxious because, after what he just did for me, I have to tell Ethan about the internship in Paris. And I have to accept whatever consequences he wants to dish out.
“Ethan, I need to tell—”
Before I can get the words out, his lips are on mine.
His kiss is both urgent and sweet, the pressure of his lips both gentle and intense. I pull back for a second, gasping to catch my breath. But he grabs my face, and I let out a soft whimper as his mouth falls over mine again.
His tongue brushes against my tongue, lighting a fuse that sizzles through me and explodes in my center. I moan as the throbbing sensation between my legs intensifies. He returns the sound as his hands tangle in my hair.
I wrap my arms around his waist and clutch his shirt in my hands. A small gasp escapes my lips as I’m prodded by the stiffness forming in his pants.
His smile curves against my mouth. “You drive me crazy. You know that?”
I tilt my head back to look in his eyes. “I do now.”
His lips are on mine again, harder this time. His moans turn into groans, and his groans turn into growls as I tighten my arms around him, pressing our bodies even closer together. I find myself wishing there wasn’t so much clothing between us. But just as the solution to this problem enters my mind, the office door swings open.
Warner’s eyes widen as he sees Ethan and I in a very compromising position. “Uh…sorry. I didn’t—”
Ethan slams the door in his face.
I immediately let go of him and stumble backward, tumbling into the chair I was just sitting in. “Oh, no,” I whisper as I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees as I hold my head in my hands. “Isn’t Warner friends with Mario?”
Mario is one of our two current sous chefs. Ethan has assured me that neither Mario nor Shanice will have their hours or pay cut if I’m promoted to sous chef. But one of us—likely the weakest cook—may see some of our duties shift to those more in keeping with a garde manger, responsible mostly for charcuterie, cold soups and salads, and sorbets. Shanice seems okay with this prospect, while Mario has been heard grumbling about it on a few occasions.
Then, of course, there’s my father.
Ethan kneels in front of me, taking my chin between his thumb and forefinger to force me to look at him. “You don’t have anything to worry about. We don’t have any policies against fraternization.”
“I’m not worried you’re going to fire me,” I reply incredulously. “I’m worried about the appearance of impropriety when you eventually promote me, and…and I’m worried about my father.”
He looks stricken by this information. “You know about the promise I made your father?”
“What promise?”
His eyes widen. “Nothing.”
My stomach drops as I realize what’s going on. “My dad made us both take the same vow of celibacy.”
Ethan chuckles as he rests a hand on my knee. “I’ll talk to Warner. No one will find out about this. I’ll make sure of that.”
I look him in the eye. “We can never do this again,” I say, my chest aching at the thought of never again kissing his perfect lips.
He looks confused by my obvious disappointment. “I said no one will find out about it. I didn’t say we needed to stop.”
I smile as
