I walk silently through the now familiar room of the museum, with my briefcase clutched in one hand and my phone in the other.
I don't know whether to get angry with my father's attitude or worry about Ethan's reaction, but I'm so anxious that instead of addressing the secretary in the corner of the spacious room, I decide to go up the stairs on the opposite side without thinking twice, taking advantage of the distraction of the girl to hide myself among the paintings scattered in the room.
Ethan was so nice last night that I'm almost confident he'll help me, even though I know him enough by now to be able to say he's moody and jerk at the same time, so I don't know what to expect.
I would avoid this meeting for my whole life, but I also know that my father will not give up before he gets what he wants, even though I can already foresee the disastrous outcome of the lunch.
'It's going to be okay .'- I try to convince myself, taking a deep breath, deluding myself as I promised not to do since the last time I saw Jack.
I shake my head when I realize I have reached the first floor, but there are so many offices that I snort loudly and hit my foot on the floor!
How many employees do you need in a museum !?
I curse Ethan mentally, then swear at my father and return to curse my fake boyfriend again.
I jump when I realize that I am no longer alone in the corridor, as an elderly man passes by my side, shamelessly looking at me from head to toe with a mischievous look, but before assuming a grimace of annoyance I raise my chin in his direction:
"Ethan's office?" - I ask in a cold tone, refraining from insulting him when he resumes looking into my eyes:
"I don't know Ethan's, but mine is behind you." - he says in a seductive voice, making me raise my lawyer's suitcase in the air to hit him at shoulder height, and this time I don't even have to ask to be given the information I wanted:
«The last room on the right.» - he brings his hand to his shoulder to caress his arm, finally abandoning his grimace and looking at me with a surprised and serious face at the same time, but I avoid giving him importance and I hasten to follow his instructions.
I am not surprised that Ethan has a sex maniac among his employees, but I wonder what the others are like and if there is anyone normal in one of these offices.
I understand that the old man did not lie to me when my eyes fall on the metallic writing Mr E. Johnson, but instead of wasting time hesitating and thinking whether it is right to disturb him or not, I decide to break into his office, throwing the door open without knocking and noticing of being wrong only when a dozen serious-faced men seated around a giant oval table turn in my direction.
I feel more blood rushing to the tip of my nose than usual as I blush when I realize I've just broken up a meeting, but especially when I meet Ethan's eyes from across the table.
As soon as he notices my presence his expression goes from confused to serious in a thousandth of a second, as he puts his hands on the table and slowly gets up from his chair, ready to threaten me to get out, but before I can speak, I anticipate him:
"I need to talk to you." - instead of leaving the office, I plant my feet on the ground and wait for him to move to make sure he listens to me.
"Sure." - he whispers in a low voice after raising his eyes to the sky, while he glances knowingly at his colleagues, but I can still read his lip, even if I decide to pretend nothing has happened and not give importance to it.
Without even dismissing the men in sweet and tie, he slowly walks in my direction, as my eyes fall on his physique and I understand that he is the only one in this room wearing a pair of light-colored trousers and a simple short-sleeved shirt, which does nothing but highlight his frightening chest.
As soon as I realize I'm staring at him I turn my heels to leave the office and wait for him in the hallway, as I hear his footsteps approaching behind me, but when I turn around ready to face him, I don't have time to understand his intentions that Ethan closes the door in my face, leaving me displaced for a thousandth of a second.
I open my lips in offense when I realize what she has just done, then grit my teeth and hurry to lower the handle again to enter, but this time with a furious grimace when I realize that she has locked to prevent me from entering.
Without thinking twice, I slam my palm on the cold wood of the door with so much force that I then have to wave my fingers in the air for the severe pain, making a painful grimace as I start walking down the corridor again, deciding to wait for him in front of his car:
that man will agree to visit my father whether he wants it or not, otherwise he can start holding me because I will not regret bringing out the worst in me.
"My office is still free ..." - the old man appears again at the top of the stairs, but this time I can't help myself and I let out a:
"Fuck you!" - before he finishes speaking.
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