“Not for me. For you though,” I glance over at his father then back at him, sucking air through my teeth, “holds the leash tight doesn’t he?”
“Dane. Stop.”
I push further because I’m getting under his skin and I’ve missed this banter we had in Paris. “He’s been begging me to manage my portfolio for a really long time. I wonder what he would say if he knew?—”
“Just…don’t…” He sighs deeply, anxiety dripping from every nerve in his body. “Don’t…say anything…please.” His eyes plead with me as easily as his words and it immediately puts me on edge about Edward Russo.
Ethan is a grown adult, yet he cowers to his father like he’s a teenager with no decision making skills of his own. It’s a side of him I haven’t seen and I instantly feel very protective.
“So, Dane, how’s my son performing in your class?” Edward asks as he waves off the waitress like he’s annoyed by her presence.
My eyes bounce between the two of them and when I glance over at Christian, he squints at me and I can tell he suspects a shift in my demeanor.
Clearing my throat I respond, “he’s super attentive, a perfectionist at everything, always aims to please.” When I glance back over to Ethan there’s a distinct flush in his cheeks because he knows I’m not talking about his mediocre classwork and half-ass tests he barely tries to pass.
Hannah is truly the top student in the class and academically exceeds in everything we’ve worked on so far. Ethan? He just seems to be there.
“Great to hear, keep it up Ethan. You’ll be working your way up my firm in no time.” He pats him on the shoulder in a gesture that’s for a stranger.
“Actually, before I forget, can we exchange numbers and keep in touch after the game?” Edward asks and this is a great opportunity to snag Ethan’s number.
“Absolutely.” I tap into the contacts of my phone and hold it out to Ethan first. He rolls his eyes, grabs it, and adds his number before passing it back to me. I quickly shoot him a text to make sure it goes through then Edward reads me off his number, looking over my shoulder the entire time to make sure I don’t mistype anything.
Quincy calls Ethan over and he gives me another pleading look as if he’s silently begging me to be on my best behavior before he graciously excuses himself.
Edward continues to talk about nothing I care about. Christian being the businessman he is, listens intently but I can tell he’s also completely unamused.
The rest of the afternoon goes along this way. Christian and I try to skate away from Edward to find peace without the constant solicitation of our portfolios and watch the game, well sort of. I find myself just watching Ethan as often as I can get away with it.
He hasn't been networking like the sleazeball his dad is. He’s been engaged in the game, talking mostly with Quincy and David, his eyes catching every move, every play.
He talks about the game like he knows more about the MLB than the MLB does. I can hear him spouting out player stats, facts, historic events, game plays.
He knows every-fucking-thing.
The only time I’ve ever seen him this lively, this enthusiastic, is when he converses with Hannah or talks about her.
I can’t help but grin as I side-eye him. He’s smiling wide and laughing and fuck, my heart stutters in my chest at the sight.
The crowd cheers as Hudson Byrnes, one of my best friends and catcher for the Smashers, steps up to the plate. It's the bottom of the seventh, we’re down by one with two outs, and he’s got Ramos on second. The first pitch flies toward him at ninety-nine miles an hour and,crack, he slams it into the outfield. The entire suite stands yelling, arms outstretched in the air, watching as it floats over the field and out of the ballpark.
“Fuck yeah!” Christian and I high five. I look over at Ethan, he’s hollering with a smile a mile wide.
Hudson is rounding the bases, the crowd is going wild, but my eyes are glued to Ethan as he animatedly comments on the play. I can’t hear him, or read his lips, but it’s clear in his body language how excited he is. How passionate his words are. His arms are floating up as if imitating the way the ball flew out of the stadium. The way his fingers are pointing to each other as if he’s naming off stats and all this makes me so much more curious about him.
His father steps up to his side, he was probably the only one in this entire suite that didn’t have any reaction to Hudson’s home run and it just goes to show he cares nothing about the game, building relationships, or having a good time, he only cares about getting the client.
Ethan visibly stiffens and his smile fades. Edward has a pierced look in his eyes while he says something to Ethan, his jaw clenching as he avoids his fathers gaze.
After a solid minute of getting reprimanded his father finally steps away and Ethan looks down huffing out a long breath, then peers over at me seeing that I saw the entire exchange.
He looks embarrassed and storms off, heading straight down the hallway in the suite where the bathrooms are. Of course, I’m following right behind him.
He disappears inside the men’s bathroom but right before the door closes all the way, I sneak my hand through the opening and follow him in, allowing the door to shut behind me.
Turning around, I lock the deadbolt. It clicks into place and Ethan spins around and I can tell how pissed he is. Not just at me for being in here but for that entire conversation I just witnessed.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he screams. “Get out!”
