Page 53 of Takeover

“I can’t believe you’re involved with someone who works for you, Ethan. You always kept your work and personal life separate.” She clears her throat and does a fake little laugh. I look directly in her face, willing her to look at me, but she doesn’t.

“What makes you think I work for him?” I ask her.

She puts her drink down and finally looks at my face.

“Don’t you?” She waves a dismissive hand. “You probably don’t know this about Ethan, but he’s a bit of a do-gooder. I assumed you got hired through one of his diversity programs.” I arch my eyebrows at her. “You know what I mean.”

“I’m afraid I don’t,” I tell her.

“One of those programs where they bring people like you in from the inner city.”

This time when I try to stop Ethan from speaking, I have no luck.

“Do you mean NYU and Columbia grads, Lindsay? I actually do wish Tara worked for me.”

“Dad, I need you!” Vincent yells from upstairs.

Ethan excuses himself, but not before he kisses me, and walks out of the kitchen.

“I hope you know I didn’t mean any offense,” Lindsay says.

“Why would I take offense at anything you said?” This time it’s me who waves her off. She narrows her eyes at me. “There’s nothing wrong with being a nanny or being from the inner city. I mean, this is Manhattan, isn’t it? Can’t get any more inner city than that.”

She doesn’t speak anymore, but her eyes continue to study me. Over the rim of her mug, she looks me over, her eyes shrewd and calculating. The silence is deafening until Vincent’s sweet giggle fills the room.

“All set, baby?” Lindsay practically jumps out of her chair and takes Vincent from Ethan’s back. “Why don’t you go get your coat.” Vincent runs off, and the three of us are left in the kitchen. I stand and take my place next to Ethan. As soon as he puts his arm around me, color creeps up Lindsay’s neck.

“I guess this shouldn’t come as a surprise. This little experiment.” She waves in our direction. “Remember that show I used to watch, Ethan? The one about the political fixer. You never ever watched TV, but whenever that actress would come on, you would always stand up a little straighter. You’d even ask me questions about the show. I guess I should have known then. I never really cared for that show. I think the actress is over-rated, too.”

I turn to face Ethan and can’t help the laugh that slips out. He doesn’t find the situation the least bit funny, though.

“Have you always been this small, Lindsay, or is this a new side to you?”

Lindsay bristles and raises herself to her full height, but Ethan removes his arm from across my shoulder and takes another step, putting them practically face to face. Without looking back at me, he holds his hand out, and I take it. “This is the last time you come into my home and insult someone I care about. You need to remember that unlike you, Tara is welcome here. I do this,” he says, gesturing back and forth between himself and her, “as a courtesy to my son.”

She bites her lip, and her eyes pool with tears but none fall. She straightens up and hisses, “I forgot how mean you can be, Ethan. And for the record, he’sourson.”

“I think you’re the one who needs to remember that he’s your son, too, not just a minor inconvenience. For the record, no, I don’t want to come to your birthday party or join you and your friends for brunch. Any conversation we will ever have will only be about Vincent. If you have anything else to say, have your lawyer call mine.”

“Ready, Mommy.” I visibly exhale with relief when Vincent comes back into the room. His coat is unzipped, and his scarf is practically touching the ground, but he’s holding on to Mr. Turtle for dear life.

Lindsay runs to him and busies herself by zipping his coat and fixing his hat and scarf. Ethan pulls me to him and wraps his arm around me tight. Once Vincent is bundled up, he runs to us and hugs us both.

Lindsay’s voice is high and shrill when she steps into the elevator. She talks about all the fun she’s going to have with Vincent until the elevator door closes. As soon as they are out of sight, Ethan pulls me into his chest and presses his warm lips to my forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so fucking sorry.” He wraps me in both arms, and I sigh happily when I lay my head on his chest.

“Nothing for you to be sorry about, but—”

“But what?” he asks when I leave my thought unfinished.

I try to pull away from him, but he only holds me tighter.

“It’s obvious she wants you back, Ethan. And you two share a child, so if there’s any part of you that wants to work it out with her, you need to let me know now. I’m not going to be the reason—”

“Shh.” He puts a hand to my lips. “You’re not the reason for anything. I was divorced for two years when we met. My marriage ended because Lindsay didn’t want to be a wife and a mother. She left. She said she was not happy, and she was dying being married to me, Tara. We went to therapy. She went on retreats. I worked less. I was going to step down as CEO, and that still wasn’t enough. She told me she didn’t love me, and she hated being a mother. That’s why my marriage ended. It has nothing to do with anyone else but me and Lindsay. And before I met you, there was no chance in hell I would ever get back with her. And since I’ve met you, there’s no chance in hell I’m going to be with any other woman but you.”

My heart skips a beat at his last statement. I look into his blue eyes, and I’m unable to look away when he strokes my cheek with his warm hand.

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