Once I’d turned thirty, everyone younger than me was a child.
At the end of the hallway, we arrived at three doors. Staff only, staff-only bathroom, and “Ethan Quinn.”
Laurie knocked on the door to Ethan’s office. “Sir? I have a Natalie Nolan here to see you. She’s a new client.”
“Come on in.”
I hated him already. He was supposed to say he was busy.
Laurie gave me one final bright smile as she let me inside. “Good luck, and welcome to the QFC family, Natalie.”
Don’t leave me.
She was actually really nice. Couldn’t she train me instead?
Ethan’s office was pretty empty. Nothing on the walls. The space was divided into an office area with his desk and filing cabinets, and then a seating area with two sofas and—what the fuck? I did a double take at the man behind the desk.Thatwas Ethan Quinn? I mean, I clearly saw it was him, but someone should tell him to update his profile photo on the website, ’cause that man wasnotin his twenties. Or thirties.
Still ripped, though.
“Natalie’s information is in the system already, so you’re good to go, sir,” Laurie said before she abandoned me.
“Thanks, Laurie.” Ethan got up from his chair and gave me a polite smile. “Nice to meet you, Natalie. I’m Ethan.”
We met halfway, and I shook his hand. “Nice to meet you too.”
He gestured at the sofas. “Have a seat, and we’ll get started. Can I get you something to drink? Tea? Water?”
“I’m good, thanks.” I cleared my throat and sat down on one of the sofas.
I couldn’t imagine having a windowless office. Spotlights weren’t everything. I needed the sun.
Ethan grabbed a laptop from his desk.
In the short timespan from seeing his profile to meeting him in person, I’d built up an impression that had just shattered. At least if he was my age—or older, actually—I felt I didn’t have to be just as nervous. He was definitely handsome, like ridiculously so, but he was a bit too polished. Clean-shaven, not a hair out of place. Brown, a little wavy, short, with a bit of silver.
I dug the silver.
He was very tall too.
He sat down across from me and opened his laptop. “All right, Natalie. How can I help you? What’re you looking for?”
Okay, I liked the sound of his voice a lot. Warm and lulling, with a hint of whiskey. But by the looks of him, he probably drank algae shots instead of whiskey.
Stop being so judgmental!
Fuck. Yeah. Okay.
“Um, I need to lose weight,” I said. “I want to get pregnant, and my doctor recommended losing maybe twenty or thirty pounds.”
More like thirty. Thirty should get me back into my leather jacket too.
Ethan hummed, his gaze fixed on the screen. I assumed he was reading my information. “Getting pregnant is a good, specific goal,” he replied. “We’re going to skip all talk about pounds, though. There’s a scale in every locker room for those who want to use that, but you won’t be stepping on one for me.”
Maybe I didn’t hate him.
“You have my interest,” I joked.
He sent me a quick grin before he refocused on the laptop.
