“I think you’re over-reacting.”
Rue looked to the sky. It was hard to believe the blanket of blue that held the smog over the city was the same one the Rocky Mountains touched. That was a quick flight. She could breathe there, then come back in time for the gala. Only there was no Ethan anywhere else, and for once, the pull to be in New York was greater than the push to get away from her mother.
“I think,” Rue said evenly, “that your precious business deal has a much better shot of going through if I don’t punch the golden boy in his face in front of your posse of benefactors. Have you even asked Dad if his future depends on whether I go out with a man whose refusal to take no for an answer borders on harassment? I’m betting he’ll say no. Besides, I. Have. A. Date.”
“Oh, honey. Ethan Chase doesn’t date.” There it was, loud and clear. The pity Ethan loathed. And this time she loathed it, too.
“He does now. I’m hanging up. Have a great day.” Rue ended the call over her mother’s protests. Stupid charity. Not that she had anything against the cause, but she hated the politics that happened behind the scenes. She’d bet half the money they raised was a direct result of the high-brows trying to out jostle one other for the title of most generous. The causes were helped in the end, but the process felt more like middle school than a bunch of grownups with a genuine interest in doing the right thing.
Except Ethan’s family. And probably quite a few others. And dammit, she wanted to be one of the ones making a real difference.
She thought of Ethan holding a puppy, and her suggestion that he do a beefcake calendar came back to her with force. She pulled up his name on her phone and swooned. She’d already attached the photo of him and Shaggy to his contact page, and she spent more time looking at it than she should. No reason to deprive the world of such a sight.
I’m going to pitch Mimi Von Adler about doing a calendar for the Von Adler charity, she texted. Want to be my Mr. July?
Shortly after she hit send, his response arrived.
No.
Undeterred, she tried again.
Which month do you want?
No month. Not happening.
Dammit. She so wanted him in a calendar, but if she couldn’t have him, she’d make do with Plan B. Ethan might not know what hit him, but that would probably be the best part about Plan B.
How’s Shaggy?
Lying on her back in a patch of sun.
Huh.
You’re not at work?
Granted, it was Saturday afternoon, but the Chase family would work seven days a week if they were needed.
No, he replied. I’m at the park, terrifying small children with the sight of this dog.
Rue laughed out loud.
Want to join us? I’ll buy you an iced coffee.
She hesitated long enough for another message to come through.
Two iced coffees?
It was just cruel that this man wasn’t available. Because if someone had asked her to sketch the perfect guy, he’d have an awful lot in common with Ethan Chase.
That’s an offer I can’t refuse, she replied. Darn coffee addiction.
He responded with the name of the park within easy walking distance. Closer to her place than his. She wondered why that was, then remembered he and his wife had lived on her street. It was probably somewhere they’d gone together. The thought made her wistful. She was glad she’d met Ethan. Between the anniversary of his wife’s death and Mrs. Angelo’s assault with the water hose, the circumstances had been a bit lacking, but she and he had connected. That felt good, even if he had her wanting all the wrong things. And he had her wanting them with him, which made them doubly out of reach.
Wrong. She might want him in the carnal sense—because she was a woman and she was, well, conscious—but she didn’t want the forever part. Mind-blowing sex was another story, but that was a chapter in a book she’d have to write somewhere else. Maybe some foreign country where the natives didn’t have green eyes and the tourists were few and far between.
She wasn’t at the park two minutes before she spotted Ethan. He held two iced coffees while Shaggy lolled in the grass at his feet.
“What are you doing to me?” she asked in mock frustration as she approached. “I can’t drink two of those.”