Page 51 of Designing Love
“Ethan.”
“Sage sent a three-page email titled‘Why Ethan Is a Cinnamon Roll.’I skimmed.” He smirks. “You like him.”
I swirl what’s left of my wine. “I’m smitten, apparently.”
Sam offers his cup in a mock toast. “To closing chapters and opening new ones.”
We clink. The wine is rich and deep, exactly what I need before tomorrow’s final round.
* * *
Back in my hotel room, the city hum feels sterile after Bluewater Cove’s quiet nights. I change into leggings, scrub off meeting makeup, and flop onto the bed, ready to review notes — when my phone pings.
Claire: Yo, cabinet king just fell asleep with his phone on his face. Ring him before he drools on it.
I laugh out loud.Leave it to Claire to be the unofficial Ethan whisperer.I tap the video icon.
The screen fills with a dark room, ceiling fan spinning lazily. Then Ethan’s face appears, pillow-creased and adorably disoriented. “Sophia?”
“Surprise,” I whisper. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
He fumbles upright, hair everywhere. “I was… uh… meditating.”
“Snoring is a bold new mantra.”
He chuckles, eyes crinkling. “Claire ratted me out, didn’t she?”
“Like a proud sister.” I tuck my knees up, camera propped against a pillow. “How’s Bluewater Cove?”
“Missing its interior-designer-in-residence.” He rubs sleep from his eyes, and the sincerity in his smile twists something sweet inside me. “Things okay there?”
“We’ve got a plan. Tomorrow should end it.” I fill him in — skipping the dollar amounts but highlighting the strategy. “If all goes well, papers get signed by Friday.”
“And then you’re free.” His voice is soft, hopeful.
“And then I’m on the first flight east.” I hesitate, then add, “Assuming you still need shelf-installation help.”
He grins sleepily. “The raccoons demanded proof of your return. I promised them your cinnamon-scented measuring tape.”
I snort. “Tell them it’s lavender.”
A comfortable silence settles; the distance feels smaller when he’s blinking at me through the phone like I’m sitting on his couch.
“Hey, Ethan?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for… everything.”
He leans back against his headboard, expression earnest. “My pleasure to involve you in this monster-sized project.”
I roll my eyes affectionately. “You’re meeting with the mayor tomorrow?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Keep me posted.”
“You too!” he replies, yawning.
