Ethan’s smile came back almost instantly, and he jumped up, righted the bike, and we were on our way again in no time.  With the wind in my hair and eyes, it was difficult to figure out just which direction we were going, and Ethan kept speeding up one alley and down the other to avoid pedestrians.  Before long, I looked up to find that we were riding past the high-rise department store buildings not far from where Presley and I liked to shop.  Soon, we were approaching the end of the block.

I glanced back at Ethan as if that would give me a better idea of where we were going.

“Almost there,” Ethan said into my ear, his warm breath sending chills down my spine.  He turned abruptly into a parking garage under the Marquise Apartment building and screeched to a halt near the elevator, wrapping one arm around my waist to keep me from falling off.

“Ethan.” A man dressed in a dark blue suit walked up and took a hold of one of the handlebars.  “Good to see you again.”

“Hey, Henry.”  Ethan greeted him by knocking his closed fist against Henry’s shoulder.  “This is Ashlyn.”

“Good evening, miss,” Henry said with a nod.  “Welcome.”

I was about as confused as I could get.  I couldn’t even begin to guess what the rent in this building might be, so there was no way this kid who normally stayed with friends in the slums could possibly live here.  This place was more than twice the price of the luxury apartments where Presley and I lived.

Henry took the bike and rolled it over to the elevator, waved a keycard, and the doors opened for us.  He reached around and hit the button for the fifty-second floor, then stepped back out again.

“I’ll make sure your bike is stored properly.  Do you know when you will be leaving?”

“Not sure yet,” Ethan said, looking at me through his lashes.

“I’ll keep it close by, then,” Henry said with a nod.  “I’ll bring the car around as well if you think you’ll be needing it.”

“Nah,” Ethan said.  “Don’t waste time with it.  I’ll call ya if I need it.”

“Very good, sir.”

We entered the elevator, and I just stared at him as it began to ascend.

“Not what you were expecting?” Ethan said with a smile.

“You live here?”

“Not often,” he said, “but yeah, this is my place.”

“The penthouse?”

“The whole top floor,” he said.  “It’s fucking insane.  Way too big for one person.”

“How can you…?”

“Long story.”  He laughed again.  “I’ll tell you tonight if you really want to know.”

The doors opened into a large foyer, tastefully decorated with original prints of the city and fresh flowers.  Ethan walked in and took off his shoes, motioning for me to do the same.

“My mom was always a nut about no shoes in the house,” he said.  “It stuck with me.”

He took my hand and led me through the entryway and into a huge great room with an enormous fireplace and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city.  There was a black leather couch and a loveseat as well as mahogany coffee and end tables.  In the middle of the room were two fluorescent pink beanbag chairs sitting in front of a gigantic television.

“Ethan, this place is incredible.”

“Good evening,” a voice said behind me, which caused me to jump and let out a little screech.  Ethan tightened his grip on my hand and rubbed his thumb over my knuckles.

“Hey, Frazier,” he said.  “This is Ashlyn.  Ashlyn, meet Josh Frazier.”

“Good to meet you, Ashlyn,” Josh said, holding out his hand.  I shook it briefly and echoed his reply.

“Do you want him to stick around?” Ethan asked me quietly.  “We could just watch a movie or something.”

“No, that’s okay.”  I honestly wasn’t more comfortable with the idea of being in a strange place with two guys I didn’t know.  At least Ethan was starting to feel familiar to me.

“See ya later, Josh,” Ethan said.

“Have fun!”  Josh smiled and winked.  “Call if you need anything.”

“Will do,” Ethan responded.  He gave Josh a high-five as he walked out of the room and towards the elevator.  A moment later, Josh was gone and we were—as far as I could tell—alone.

“I do have a lot of movies if you want to watch something.”

Ethan stood in front of a cabinet, one hand in his hair and tugging at the ends.  He danced from one foot to the other, then looked up at me, his cheeks red.

“They’re mostly movies based on books.”  He let out a quick, nervous laugh.  My laugh was more genuine, and he seemed to relax a little.

“I think I’ll pass,” I said.

“Do you want a Coke or something?”

What I really wanted was a glass of wine, but I didn’t say so.

“Maybe just some water?”

“Sure.”

Ethan walked up three short, hardwood steps to the raised kitchen area and pulled a glass out of the cabinet.  He filled it with ice and filtered water, grabbed a can of Coke out of the fridge, and brought them both back to the living area.  He handed me my water, then plopped down on one of the bean bag chairs.

I eyed the comfortable-looking leather couch and then the floppy bean bag chair on the floor next to Ethan.  I pulled a bit at the edge of my skirt and tried to figure out if there was any way I could possibly sit down without ripping the seam or falling right on my face.

“Oh, shit!”  Ethan jumped up out of the chair, spilling the Coke in his hand all over the floor.  He cursed again, put the can on a coaster on the coffee table, and ran out of the room.  He was back in less than a minute, holding a bundle of clothes which he thrust at me.  “They won’t fit right, but you’ll be able to sit better.”

I looked at the pair of turquoise yoga pants and a beige tank top that were just a little too big for me.  They obviously weren’t Ethan’s.

“My mom’s,” he said. I could have sworn he had mind-reading abilities.

“Will she mind?”

“Um…no.”  Ethan grabbed a towel from the kitchen and started cleaning the Coke off the carpet.  “Both my parents are dead.”

“Oh, crap…Ethan, I’m sorry.”  I reached one hand out towards him but wasn’t sure what I planned to do with it, so I dropped it back to my side.

“It’s okay,” he said with a shrug.   “It’s been a couple of years.  There’s a bathroom down the hall—second door on the left.”

“I’ll go change.”

When I came back in the more comfortable clothing, the Coke mess was cleaned up and both of our drinks were sitting on the coffee table.  Ethan was rinsing out the towel in the kitchen sink.  He looked over his shoulder at me and smiled.

“That looks a lot easier to get around in,” he said.  He hopped down the three stairs and flopped back into the bean bag, motioning me to do the same.  “Why do you wear that stuff anyway?”

“I’ll be working in the corporate world,” I said.  “It’s what you wear.”

“What does that stuff have to do with your job?  Couldn’t you do the job just as well in a pair of jeans?”

“I suppose so,” I responded.  I had never really thought about it.  It was just what people wore in corporate America.  “But people are expecting a certain look.  If you want to convince them you will take care of their investments, they have to see you as a professional.”

“Doesn’t Draganov Financial already have a good reputation?”

“Yes, very good.  We’re a leader in the industry.”

“I thought so.”  He smiled that half smile at me, and I was fairly certain I was going to end up staining the crotch of his Mom’s yoga pants if he kept doing that.  “If you weren’t, I might have to pay attention to what was happening with my money, and I really don’t want to fuck around with all that shit.”

“You’re invested with us?”

“Us?” he questioned.  “I thought you just interviewed there today.  Did you get the job?”

It was my turn to blush scarlet.

“Well, you see—it was really an interview in name only.” I had no idea how I was going to explain this without sounding like an entitled bitch.  “I already have the job.  My father is Miles Draganov.”

I sat back and waited for the shift in attitude that always occurred.  Sometimes I truly hated my family name.  The people in this town seemed to think we needed to be treated like Rockefellers or something.  I hated it.  Dad loved it.

“Oh, I got it,” Ethan said.  He tipped his soft drink can up and drained it.  “Yeah, my dad did a lot of business with Draganov Financial.  Most of the money’s still there.  I don’t really pay much attention to it.  All the bills are paid automatically for this place, and I only use the account directly to pay Frazier and shit.  Sometimes I’ll use the credit card, like tonight, but not often.”

He shrugged, half-smiled, and blushed again.

“I guess I still owe you a story,” he said, waving his hand, indicating the penthouse apartment.

“Yes, you do,” I agreed.  “Will you tell me about your parents as well?”

“They are a big part of it,” he said with a wry smile.

“I guess that should have been obvious, huh?”  I smiled back, hoping I hadn’t sounded flippant or anything.  Ethan smiled and began speaking.

“My parents were awesome.  They both worked really hard, but they would always try to make time for me when they could.  One of them would always be at my major track meets and whatever.

“Mom said I was her miracle baby—she wasn’t supposed to be able to have any and ended up with a hysterectomy right after I was born.  They were so proud of me, and I always felt loved and accepted.  Even after the accident, when I wasn’t a straight A student any longer, and I wasn’t allowed to vault or even run track, they still said they were proud of me for how hard I was working to finish high school.  I thought I was still going to get through college at that time, too, and I was going to pay my own way.  Both of them came from families with money, but they also both made their own fortunes as well.  They were starting to talk about retirement when the accident happened.”

Ethan took a long drink from his can of cola and paused for a moment before continuing.

“It was our regular family trip, and I always went with them.  The three of us flew out to our lake house about once a month.  I had just gotten out of the hospital after the last surgery, and the doctor said I shouldn’t be on a plane—something about the air pressure changes and possible swelling.  I don’t really remember.  They were going to forget the usual weekend voyage altogether, but I knew they needed a break, and I told them to go.  A bunch of my friends were going to throw me some kind of get-well party or whatever, so I wouldn’t be on my own or anything.  They finally agreed to go without me.  It was a small plane flown by one of my dad’s friends, and it was just them, the pilot, and the pilot’s wife.  No one knows exactly what happened—turbulence or what—but the pilot lost control of the plane and everyone was killed.”

Ethan reached up with the back of his hand and swept moisture away from his eyes.  I maneuvered out of my bean bag chair and knelt before him, taking his hands.  He glanced at me shyly and looked down to our joined hands.  He shifted over a little in the bean bag, making room for me to sit next to him.  I crawled in beside him and wrapped my arms around his waist.  I felt his arms encircle my shoulders, holding me against his chest.

“Thanks,” he said softly.

“You’re welcome,” I responded, not really sure what else I could say.

“I spent a lot of time thinking I should have been with them—that we all should have been killed.  Then I spent a lot of time deciding it was my fault because I told them to go without me.  I don’t feel that way anymore, but it took a lot of time to work through it.  I definitely learned something though.”

“Nothing matters more than the people in your life,” Ethan continued.  “Your relationships with those around you are what defines you and makes you real.  My parents live on because I remember them, and I see how what they did affects everything I do today.  They don’t live on in the stuff in this penthouse, the family property in Wales, or the money in the trust funds.”

I could understand why he would think that though I wasn’t so sure my friends would agree.  To many of them, money was everything.

“It’s usually lonely here,” Ethan said.  “I spend time with my friends in their crappy, little, overcrowded apartment because they are real.  They have no idea how much money I have though they know my parents left me something, but they do know that money means nothing.  I’d rather eat grilled cheese made on a hotplate at their place than have some chef cook up filet mignon and eat it here alone.  Nothing here means anything because I don’t share it with anyone else.”

Ethan was quiet for a minute, his fingers slowly tracing up and down my back.

“I think you are closer to your parents now than I have ever been to mine,” I said softly.  “Mom is off in her own little world—I think in Paris now—and Dad is…well, he’s just Dad.  I’ve never really known him.”

“Does he work a lot?” Ethan asked.

“Does all the time count as a lot?” I laughed humorlessly.  “When he isn’t at the office, he’s having dinner with clients or golfing with board members.  He’s never not working.”

“He sounds dedicated.”

“He is,” I agreed.  “The business is very important to him.  That’s one of the reasons he says he won’t trust it to anyone but me.”

“Well, I guess my money will continue to safely accrue interest, then.”

“What is your last name?” I asked, wondering if his family was one of the bigger clients whose names I would recognize.

“Ramsey,” he said softly, and I couldn’t help my gasp.