Ethan had never said anything to his mother about the love triangle. It would simply have upset her, and nothing productive would have resulted.
“Jacob’s an adult and knows right from wrong,” he said. “He can make his own decisions.”
“Yes, you’re right.” Her gaze sharpened, her mouth firmed. She squared her shoulders, the movement subtle but clear. “He’s made his choices. And the rest of us must do what we must.”
Chapter Eight
KERRI SETTLED INTO a weekly routine with Ethan. Every morning and evening, Ethan cooked something nutritious—though you’d never be able to tell from the way it tasted; his Italian grandmother must’ve been a culinary goddess—and Kerri cleaned up. She generally fended for herself for lunch and walked for half an hour for her daily exercise. The weather was generally perfect as the late summer cooled into autumn.
After dinner they usually watched TV, read or played cards. She would’ve preferred something more productive, but he insisted she take time off to “recharge her batteries.” Then they’d have sex in his bedroom, and afterward, when he’d fallen asleep, she’d slip away to her room.
On weekends, he’d take her out to various restaurants in town. He always selected places that had healthy options for her, and they’d go to the movies or an art gallery or whatever other diversion struck their fancy.
But this evening was one of the few that deviated from their usual pattern: Ethan brought work home. He spread a thick pile of papers on the dining table and marked off items with a golden pen that had a large “E” on the clip.
“If you’re working, so am I,” she said, starting up her laptop on the other side of the table.
He sighed. “Watch TV or something,” he said. “Enjoy yourself a little.”
She chuckled. “Ethan, seriously. I enjoy my work.”
“You can’t honestly like it as much as you say you do.”
“Why not?”
“Well…you quit.”
“That doesn’t mean I hated it.” She cradled her chin in her palm. “I was dedicated. Good at it too.”
He put down the pen. “Okay. So why did you quit? Everyone suddenly start hating investment bankers?”
She eyed him for a moment, searching for signs for sarcasm. He simply looked expectant. “All right. First, although i-bankers don’t have the best reputation, I never did anything I was ashamed of. I helped a lot of companies achieve their objectives, and we performed a vital function.” She raised a finger. “Of course, there are those jerks who tarnish the whole industry’s reputation, and the media loves to focus on them. But I worked hard to do what was right—and legal—for my clients. Okay?”
He smiled. “Okay.”
“As for me personally, I needed a challenge.” I needed to avoid my family, damn them. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t do what I consider important: helping others achieve their goals. Or that I can’t like doing it.” She pulled up the files she’d been working on for the last two days. “Like the way I’m helping you with TLD. My work frees up your time; you can continue to work at Global Strategies without neglecting the family business. And by doing this terrible, horrible slave-labor drudge work, I’m not only helping you, but Natalie and Alex, too.”
He narrowed his eyes in a mock showdown stare. “Fine, but I’m not paying you overtime. So you’re working for free if you spend more than forty hours a week on it.”
“Ha. You think I got paid overtime at Goldreich?”
“No huge bonuses, either.”
Unbidden, her mind flashed a picture of his naked body, and she smiled. That’s what you think.
He gave her laptop a sour look, but she knew she’d won the point. He wasn’t hypocritical enough to insist that she take time off when he himself was knee-deep in paperwork. A nicely admirable quality. She’d known too many sanctimonious jerks who thought the rules applied to everyone but them.
Besides, she’d learned to respect his abilities. She’d thought his Lloyd pedigree and social connections were what had gotten him the cushy job, but he was actually brilliant. They occasionally discussed business during dinner, and she was always impressed with his quick thinking.
No wonder Justin had said Ethan would’ve made a formidable opponent for Sterling & Wilson.
“How much work could be left on The Lloyds Development?” he asked.
“Not that much. I’m pretty close to done.”
“I’m looking forward to reading your overview.”
She gave him a pat smile, the kind she would use on a client. She didn’t want to give him any false expectations, but she couldn’t hint at what she’d found until she rechecked everything.