“So you’ve not had lunch, and you’re not going to havedinner. If you keep having coffee at the rate you’re going, you’re going to develop ulcers.”
“I’ll be fine. You should head home.”
He shoots me a look from the corner of his eyes before returning his attention to the documents before him.
“I’m not stupid, Ethan. I know what you’re doing.”
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m not having dinner with you.”
“I’m not asking you to dinner.”
“I’m not having dinner with you in the office, either.”
“Your choice. I still have to work.”
My jaw clenches. He’s not going to eat. I know he won’t. It’s in his eyes. That stubborn glint. If he doesn’t get his way, he’s not going to eat.
I shouldn’t care. This has nothing to do with me. If he wants to go ahead and make himself sick by overworking, that’s his problem. He’s an adult. I’m not responsible for him..
Yet after working together for these past weeks, I’ve gotten used to looking out for him in small ways. What started as guilt from his injury has evolved into something else—a habit of caring I can’t quite shake.
“Clarice,” I say, my voice tense, “can you order some spicy tuna sushi for me?”
The slow smile forming on Ethan’s lips makes me want to smack him in the face. I sink into my chair, shooting a baleful look at the man.
His smile widens. “I’ll have the same.”
As soon as Clarice leaves the room, I hiss, “You are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Ethan picks up the file, flips through it. “I’m just eating dinner because you want to have dinner with me.”
“I’m not having dinner with you!” I correct him, heatedly. “I’m having dinner in the office with you.”
“There’s a difference?” he asks, calmly.
“I swear, if you weren’t my boss?—”
This time his smile is wicked. “Highly inappropriate, Miss Thorne.”
I feel the heat creep up my face. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
He makes a clicking sound with his tongue. “So you say.”
“You’re insufferable!” I exclaim, and Ethan raises his eyebrows.
“Is that really something you should be saying to your boss?”
I give him a sharp smile. “Perhaps you should fire me.”
Ethan just looks smug. “No. Nice try, though. Points for effort.”
I’m about to say something else to him when the intercom buzzes again, and Clarice’s voice sounds. “Your mother is on the line, Mr. Wilder.”
Ethan’s grin fades. “Put her through.”
A moment later, he puts the call on speaker. “Is everything alright, Mom?”
