Eleven

Misha

Ethan was acting strange. Quiet and distant since we left Australia, truthfully, since he told me the truth about Katarina. Baring emotions and long buried hurts could be difficult for the most expressive of people, but for someone like Ethan, who had to be in control all the time, it had probably drained his emotional reserves. And a small part of me, the female part, also knew it had to do with the sex. Great sex but it had still been a mistake. Even knowing what it could do to our working relationship, I hadn’t been able to help it.

And I should know better.

Chasing things, I wasn’t meant to have, was the story of my life and Ethan was just another in a long list of those things. Lesson learned.

Hopefully.

In the meantime, I had to put on my big girl panties—what a useless expression—and keep things between us professional. Distant, just how he wanted it, he was the client after all. The party with his family had been great, I’d never had that many people in my family and it gave me the warm and fuzzies. But more importantly it told me a lot more about Ethan, the man. He was a golden child in a family filled with successful, golden children. He’d worked hard his entire life, pushed himself to be as good as his brothers. Better than his brothers. He’d done it in two different careers and he’d never failed at one thing he’d attempted to do. Until it came to saving Kat.

I understood him now—and now that I did—I hoped I could help him get through these interviews so he could get back to his normal life.

Which didn’t include me.

Why I felt so sad about it, I had no idea, except that I felt something with Ethan I hadn’t felt with another man, ever. That was on me, not him and I owed it to him to give him every chance to get back to the life he wanted. So, I suppressed it. I shoved it down so deep that it was like it hadn’t happened, that we didn’t have this strange connection we shouldn’t. My business was all I had so as I looked out into the Pacific Ocean, I threw it all out there and turned at the sound of my name. “Good morning, Ethan. How are you today?”

His broad shoulders shrugged and he looked around sheepishly. “Okay I suppose. Feeling a little restless.”

“Are you up for today? You can go home and get some rest and we can start fresh tomorrow.” If he didn’t want to be here today then he couldn’t be helped and selfishly, it would give me another day to get myself under control.

“Nah, I’m good. What did you have in mind?”

“The theater.” I’d spent the weekend reliving the time we spent in Australia with his family, what I knew about his relationship with Katarina and watching the Samantha Stevens interview at least two dozen times. What he needed now, were tools to get through these interviews without losing his shit.

“Are we watching a movie?”

I shook my head, staring just over his shoulder to avoid those searing blue eyes.

“A play?”

“No. This is an improv class. To help you think and keep your cool on the fly.” I braced myself for his reaction and based on his crossed arms and angry glare I knew he didn’t like the plan.

“You think it’s a good idea to be in a class full of people with camera phones looking to make a quick buck?” He shook his hand and raked his fingers through his hair. “What are you thinking, Misha? You’re supposed to be a damn professional!”

I swallowed the quick retort on my tongue and crossed my arms in what I recognized as the protective gesture it was. “If that’s what you think, maybe you should take today to think about if you trust me enough to see you through this.” I felt unbelievably hurt by his careless words, his angry accusations even though I knew I shouldn’t. Sleeping with him had been a mistake. Things were already changing.

He stared at me, waiting for something I couldn’t discern and upset that he wasn’t getting it. “So, you’re giving up?”

“No Ethan,” I sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. “I’m asking you to trust me.”

“Fine,” he growled and turned away, looking over his shoulder to see if I’d follow him.

“Follow me,” I told him and brushed past him, heading to my car for the hopefully short drive to the theater. We both stayed silent on the drive and anger radiated off Ethan the entire time which only impressed me that he still planned to go through with the class. It was a testament to his desire to get back to working himself into the ground. And I was determined to help him get that. Because it was what he wanted.

“This is it?” He looked like I’d taken him to the scene of a homicide.

I nodded, reaching for patience that was just out of my reach. “Yes.” I put a hand to his chest just outside the auditorium and immediately regretted it at the hard heat pulsing off him. “Look, just keep an open mind Ethan. I wouldn’t do anything to embarrass you or hurt your chances at getting beyond this.” I wanted him to trust me but the wariness swimming in those blue eyes stabbed at me until I rubbed the pain in my chest away and stepped back.

“Fine.”

I pulled the door open and fixed a professional smile on my face as I spotted the teacher. “Misha, darling! I wasn’t sure if you two would make it.” Jeff Bainbridge’s silver eyes sparkled with delight, as they always did. Those eyes were the reason he’d spent fifteen years on the big screen, making women all over the world fall in love with him as a gangster, a general, a future king and even a superhero. He was the man of America.

“Jeff, love agrees with you. At least if that glow is anything to go by.” I let him hug me tight before turning to a shocked Ethan. “Jeff this is Ethan, your student for the day. Ethan, Jeff will be your teacher.”

“Jeff Bainbridge,” he said as awe filled his voice, he shook his hand. “I am a huge fan. It’s great to meet you.” He looked around with a frown. “Where are the other students?”

Jeff raised his eyebrows in question and clapped. “I was made to understand that you required privacy?”

“Right.” I felt his gaze on me but I couldn’t look at him. Not now, knowing what he truly thought of me. “Where do we start?”

I took a seat in the back row where the lights were too dim to be seen and watched Jeff and Ethan go through a few warmup exercises. They seemed to get on well, laughing and backslapping as men do when they’re comfortable together. By the time the three-hour session was over, Ethan seemed relaxed and I just hoped he’d remember the tools he learned and used them for the interview which was no less than a week away.

“Don’t be a stranger,” Jeff called out as we left the auditorium and stepped out into the blinding afternoon sun.

“I’m sorry Misha.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I told him as I climbed behind the wheel. I didn’t want his apology. You either trust someone or you don’t and since he didn’t, all I could do was help as much as I could. “Did you drive or am I dropping you off at home?”

“Home, please. Maybe you want to come in?”

I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or cry at the half-hearted invitation, though I did feel better knowing he was just as conflicted. But clearly the all-night sex in Tokyo was a bad idea. He’d needed distance from me and from the situation, and it was up to me to give it to him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea Ethan. I’ll come over tomorrow at ten, does that work?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, disappointment coming off him in waves. “See you tomorrow, Misha.”

I ignored the dejected set of his shoulders as I pulled onto the PCH and made my way home.

Sometimes doing the right thing really fucking sucked.