Page 36 of Mostly My Girlfriend
“Did you hear me?” Ethan asked..
“Would you button your shirt?” I asked him as he walked toward me.
He shrugged and started buttoning his shirt. I had to be imagining the fact he looked as if he was intentionally doing it slowly.
“Did I hear what?”
“I asked you, how was your day.”
Yes. That’s right. I hadn’t needed to sit in on this technical meeting so I got to have the perfect day in the most beautiful city in the world. I was officially the luckiest woman in the world.
Well, almost perfect. It might have been better if Ethan had been able to spend it with me—
No, not Ethan.CJ. It would have been better if CJ had been here.
I really needed to concentrate on that.
“It was wonderful,” I told him, leaning back in the chair and stretching out my body. “The Musée D’Orsay and the Impressionists. I mean, theWater Lilies…they almost made me cry. Then across to the Louvre. I saw theMona LisaandVenus De Milo. Rodin and Michelangelo sculptures…it was almost too much. Too much beauty. Too much history. And the shopping! You know me, I don’t even like shopping, but I couldn’t stop myself. Who knew a single city could hold so much?”
“Then I’m glad I didn’t need you.”
That had me lifting my head. “Why did you bring me here, then, if you didn’t need me?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t know who was going to be there. Wasn’t sure if they were going to bring the number wonks or not. I wanted to be prepared.”
Okay. That sounded legitimate.
“Are your parents upset you’re not going to be with them this year for Christmas?”
Technically, it would have been our year to spend with them instead of with my mom in Iowa. Although that would have ended after this year anyway. I wouldn’t have been able to explain to CJ why I had to spend Christmas with Ethan and his parents.
CJ was pretty understanding when it came to the role Ethan had in my life, but no one was that understanding. This trip had spared me from having to have that conversation with Ethan. Which was probably a cowardly way out.
“I told them we had to be here,” he said. “They understood. What about your mom?”
“She’s good. She started a knitting club, which has been helping her keep her mind off John.”
“He’s in a good program. You spared no expense.”
I knew that. The rehab facility was one of the best in the country. Working for Ethan made that an option. It wasn’t just about affording the facility, it was about having the clout to get him admitted to the program that would give John a real chance at a life of sobriety.
Time’s Man of the Year, again, had a lot of clout.
“It’s his second go-around,” I said, feeling the pressure of it. “He’s got to make it work this time.”
Ethan picked up my feet, sat on the ottoman, then dropped my feet into his lap. I was about to pull them back when he took hold of one and started to massage it. I had a certain amount of strength when it came to Ethan, but no one had enough strength to resist having their arches rubbed by his thumb.
“Oooohhh yeah, right there. A little harder. A little deeper.”
“You can’t control John’s sobriety.”
“I know that.” Mostly.
“I don’t think you do,” Ethan said even as he swapped feet and started on the other one.
“God that feels good,” I moaned.
I didn’t want to think about John in that moment. I didn’t want to think about anything other than the amazing pieces of art I’d seen and the dinner I was going to have as we cruised on the Seine.
