Business as Usual (12 page)

“You think we’re fated?”

“
Destined,”
he corrected.

“You should have told me you were crazy
before
last night.”

“I’m crazy about you,” he quipped.

I hooked my arms around Ethan’s neck and draped
my leg over his hip.

“I can live with that,” I purred.

He
drew me into his arms and kissed me as if it was the most natural thing in the
world for us to do. I looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. It was
well after 7a.m. Where had the time gone? With Ethan’s arms locked around my
waist I stared ahead, eyes transfixed on the ceiling wondering if we were
thinking the same thing. What would our fathers say about our mixing business
with pleasure? They wouldn’t know. They
couldn’t
know. Not if I could
help it.

Somewhere
between eating takeout, working, and making love we finally managed to get some
sleep. Then we were up again, exhausting ourselves on our laptops and cell
phones eventually sleeping the hours away in ratty t-shirts or nothing at all,
day and night blurring together. Contracts from Diane arrived a few days later
by courier. I signed them quickly and sent the delivery man on his way without
mentioning them to Ethan.  

We
left the following day for Paris, leaving our work on the Gold Dust for
assistants and other staff down the company’s chain of command. It was the
first vacation I had in years...and for Ethan, his first vacation ever. So I
stole his cell phone and made him promise not to mention or so much as think
about work while on our “honeymoon”.

“I
can’t
think about anything else when I’m with you,” he insisted, eyeing
me like a lovesick puppy.

I tossed Ethan’s phone into my bag after
turning it off and then we were on our way.

Our
two week trip to Paris went as expected. We eagerly took in popular landmarks
like the Eiffel Tower and the Notre Dame Cathedral. We even walked down
Le
Avenue des Champs-
Elysées
and visited the
Tuileries
. Paris was as chic and elegant as I
remembered, especially the gorgeous architecture, much of which had been
designed from the cool cream-colored limestone that had been imported from
Oise
to destinations
like the
Place de la Concord
. Overall, Paris had
provided us both a much needed break.

Back
in the real world, life was sailing along. Diane kept me updated on the project.
I wasn’t supposed to check emails or text messages, but did when Ethan wasn’t
looking. It was nice to come up for air every now and then. Claudia called in
tears about Wayne, they were having problems. She was hysterical so I could
only make out part of the story through the crackle coming through my phone. So
I promised her I would visit when I was stateside again.

Two
weeks later as I packed our luggage for the trip home, I flipped through the
dozens of pictures I’d put in a scrapbook, wondering if the photos were
memories of our honeymoon or something to have on record to prove the
legitimacy of our marriage to immigration.

I
stopped at a picture I had taken of Ethan at the Louvre
.
The man was unnaturally handsome. It was like the gods descended from the
heavens to personally bless him not only with the gift of beauty, but the
presence of power. In Paris, I couldn’t help but notice how women stared at
him, or cut their eyes sideways, a smile curling the corners of their mouths,
some of them blushing, fluttering eyelashes lowering as they looked down or
away, awkwardly chewing their lips as they waited for Ethan to notice them. He
seemed oblivious of the attention, even from other men, who stole an occasional
glance when they thought no one was looking. At our hotel, some had even
ventured to ask his business in Paris, their greedy little eyes beaming with
interest. A wealthy Chinese businessman…one they assumed would blindly invest
in whatever scheme they’d concocted. I saw women in the background of all of
our pictures, gazing over at him,
at us
. That’s when I noticed the face
lurking among the crowds at the
Louvre.
There was nothing unusual about
this face, only that I’d seen it before. My heart raced as I flipped through
the rest of album, where the same man appeared again and again, lurking in the
background in several of Ethan’s pictures. Someone was following us! I gasped
so loudly, Ethan rushed into the room like there was a fire.

“What’s wrong?” he
asked, kneeling beside me.

“There’s a man
lurking behind you in all of your pictures,” I panted, flipping through the
scrapbook as I pointed out the leather-clad thug in each one.

“I saw him in Vegas
at the Palazzo and standing outside at the chapel after our wedding.”

“Are you sure?”
Ethan asked, in an eerily calm voice.

“Of course, I’m
sure. He’s in several of our pictures at different locations on different days.
He’s obviously watching us.”

Ethan shut his eyes
and sighed like he was pissed.

“It’s the paparazzi
again,” he said.

I watched as he
paced around in a circle then kicked a nearby chair. He acted more like a man
who was guilty of something, than someone annoyed by the press.

“Just because a
handful of people on Wall Street know who we are, doesn’t mean we’re famous.”

Ethan walked away, returning a few seconds later with a
French gossip magazine. He opened it and flipped through the thick glossy pages
until he found the right one. I looked at the article. There were several
fashionable women, actress and models alike, and then a picture of me and Ethan
with a caption written in French.

“What does it say?”
I asked.

“They refer to you
as the stylish daughter of business tycoon Eugene Byron.”

Ethan spoke a
moderate amount of French, which had been useful in helping us get around in
Paris. Ethan smacked the magazine down on top of the coffee table. Seeing my
picture in a gossip magazine with a gaggle of airheaded socialites depressed
me.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I
sighed, collapsing into his arms.

“What on earth were
you thinking?” he asked, cupping my chin.

I blinked tears
from my eyes.

“We were in danger.
You said you wanted to get away from China so I just assumed…”
“Someone had been dispatched from China to kill me?”

I nodded, wiping a
tear from my eye. Ethan laughed, drawing me into his arms.

“But the man in the
pictures isn’t a Chinese. You watch too many spy movies,” he laughed.

“I was scared,” I
sobbed.

“Care to explain
why?” he asked, echoing my words.

I shook my head. I
was having a hard enough time explaining it to myself.

CHAPTER 6

I
was elated when the chauffer-driven Maybach parked in the driveway of the three
story beach house I called home. I rolled the window down and gazed out as
Ethan leaned across my lap, lowering his shades.

“We’re here,” I said, answering the unspoken
question in his eyes. The driver had already unloaded our luggage and was on
his way around to my door when I jumped out and ran down the walkway, hauling
two of the suitcases he left near the car.

Ethan
climbed out of the vehicle coolly, sunglasses still covering his eyes as he
surveyed the flawless landscape.  

The
house sat on top of a cliff overlooking the ocean in an area called
Sharkfin
Bay. I could hear waves crashing ashore against
the craggy rocks fortifying the base of the house on the other side, spraying a
fine mist of cool ocean water into the air. The driver continued to dump our
luggage on the pavement one by one as I unlocked the door to the house and
bumbled inside. Ethan grabbed his bags and followed, peering inquisitively
around the corner of the chateau where a trail lined with boulders and wild
peonies forged a cobbled path to a private beach. The backyard featured an
elaborate landscape adorned with flowers, organic fruit, a vegetable garden,
and a handmade gazebo as its centerpiece, my private sanctuary.

Ethan closed the door behind us as he walked
inside. The blinds to the patio door had been left open by the cat-sitter, and
a fresh bowl of water for Roger had been placed nearby. Hearing the commotion
of my entrance he strutted in, happy to see me, meowing and circling my legs.
Shimmering light reflecting from ocean waves filtered into the living room,
filling it with an abundance of bright natural light. I dropped my suitcases
and sighed as I gazed out the window at the stunning view. “Hello, Roger! Mommy
missed you!” I said, bending to brush his soft black fur with my hands. Already
bored with the attention, he lifted his tail, rubbed his chin against my leg,
and walked away. I followed Roger over to the window, lifting the cute little
tuxedo cat into my arms.

“I bet you’re hungry,” I purred into his ear,
brushing his furry white neck with my fingertips.

Ethan swept a hand through his hair, watching
as I sauntered off into the kitchen to prepare a plate of wet cat food for
Roger. When I was done I sat the saucer on the floor to answer the ringing
phone.

“I saw pictures of you and Ethan online. Very
convincing,” Daddy praised, after a brief hello. “I’m glad the two of you are
getting along.”

“Well, it’s not like we had a choice,” I said,
cutting him off.

“I heard you were fighting.”

 “About what?” I droned, irritated by the
judgmental tone in his voice.

“Work. I got your letter. Edgar Yu and I agree
with your proposal. 135,000 square feet is sufficient.”

I cut a look at Ethan from the side of my eye
and lowered my voice. He was still hauling the rest of our luggage into the
house.

“I’ll let him know,” I muttered, unsure of
exactly
how
I was going to tell him. “He won’t be happy about it.”

“Then make him happy,” my father snapped.
“Don’t mess this up, Elizabeth. I mean it. This is business, not personal.
It’ll be over soon enough.”

“I know,” I answered, gripping the phone. “What
I don’t understand is why you’re acting like this. Why Ethan and his father are
so important to you?”

“They’re not important to me, they’re important
to
us
.”

My heart dropped like a stone. What was he
talking about?

“Is this about Byron Energy?” It was hard to
keep the frustration out of my voice. Maybe Claudia was on to something about
the millions in stock that came in after Ethan and I had gotten married. None
if it was making any sense.

“The relationship I have with the Yu family is
complicated,” Dad answered, reticent as ever.

“Complicated or twisted? Just how in the hell
did I get involved in your shenanigans?”

“Maybe you should ask your husband.”

“He’s not my
husb
—I
gotta
go,” I said, as Ethan entered the kitchen.

I hung up.

“Was that your father?”

“Yes,” I muttered, trying to hide my
irritation.

 “We have six weeks of vacation left,”
Ethan noted, clearly irritated that my father had called.

“So.”

“What did he want?”

“He asked about our honeymoon and something or
other about Paris,” I hummed, crossing my legs at the ankles.

Ethan studied my face, his head turning
sideways.

“Did you tell him about us?”

“No! Why would I do that?”

I knew I sounded just a tad defensive.

“I would prefer to keep our relationship
private.”

“They already know we’re married,” he smiled,
following me out of the kitchen.

“I’m serious, Ethan… It’s none of his damned
business.”

“Fine, I won’t say anything,” he smirked,
throwing his hands up in mock defeat.

“So when do I get the grand tour?” Ethan asked,
deftly changing the subject.

I eyeballed his face. He was laughing,
shoulders bouncing up and down as he tried to hold it in.

“What are you looking at?” he grinned.

 “Nothing,” I shrugged, smiling.

“Do I look like the Mona Lisa to you? You’re
staring. Stop doing that. It’s rude.”

I covered my mouth. Now I was the one who was
laughing.

“Seriously,” he pressed, observing me with a
perplexed expression on his face.

“What’s so funny?”

“Your eyes crinkle when you laugh.”

Ethan’s mouth dropped in mock surprise.

“What was that? I look like an old man?” he
barked.

I heard the warning in his tone and backed away
as I tried to keep my laughter in check. I ran up the stairs, bursting with
giggles, but Ethan lunged after me, catching me halfway up the steps where he
hauled me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Where are you taking me?” I demanded, woozy
from the sudden movement.

He kicked a door open at the top of the stairs.

“Where else?” Ethan answered. Then after a
pause asked, “Where in the hell are we?”

“The guest bedroom!” I squealed, laughing as he
dropped me on top of the bed.

“Oh. We can’t do it in here,” he said,
rethinking his original plan.

“For the next three years we can do whatever we
want!” I teased, squirming into his grasp.

“Just three years? I need an hourglass so I can
count the days before you slip through my fingers.”

“I’m just the girl you married for a green
card,” I shrugged. “What’s wrong with you, Ethan? Most guys would kill for
no-strings-attached sex with an attractive woman. Just enjoy it,” I smiled.

“No, you’re the girl I married. The girl I’m in
love with,” he corrected. “I think too highly of you and our relationship to
reduce what we have to sex.”

I swallowed nervously.

“Okay, fair enough. Although, there’s just one
thing I disagree with.”

“Every word I said was the truth. You’re not
allowed to disagree,” he said, smiling gently.

“You married me for a green card and we’ve only
been married for four weeks. How can you say you’re in love with me?”

Ethan took my hand in his and kissed the back
of my fingers.

“Because I have been in
love with you my whole life.
From the moment I laid my eyes on you, even
before that…”

“You know nothing about me,” I said, trying to
quell the nervous rumble of my stomach.

“I know you’re career-driven, passionate about
family, and breathtakingly beautiful. I want to spend the rest of my life with
you…”

I shook my head.

“I don’t know what to say,” I answered, still
unconvinced.

“I’ll prove it. Elizabeth, there’s something I
need to tell you,” he said, gripping my hand.

My stomach fluttered nervously as I waited to
hear what he had to say.

Suddenly, a string of noisy chimes rang out.
Ethan cursed the intrusion and rolled out of bed.

“I’ll get it,” I insisted, resisting his
attempts to draw me back as I skipped out of the room.

  I ran downstairs, thinking it was the
chauffer at the door with something we left behind. But when I opened the door,
it was Danny who stood on the other side.

CHAPTER 7

“Surprise!
Danny exclaimed, as I stood gawking at him,
unable to speak.

He
rushed inside, lifting me off the ground as he spun me around. Too stunned for
words, it had taken almost a full minute before I said something.

“What are you doing here?” I cried. “I wasn’t
expecting you.”

Danny smiled like a cat with a bird in its
mouth.

“I flew in a few days ago.”

My eyes were wide as saucers.

“But I was out of town. How’d you know I was
back?”

“I paid your neighbor’s son to give me a call when
you arrived. Damn, did that pay off. You look good. I miss you,” he added,
looking me up and down.

“Danny, this isn’t a good time. We need to
talk.”

“About what?” he answered. “I thought you’d be
happy to see me.”

“I, I am…” I stammered, suddenly realizing,
Danny was no longer looking at me.
Ethan stood behind me in the foyer, legs crossed, hands in his pocket as he
gazed at the golden-haired stranger.

“Hi, I’m Danny,” he said, voice deepening, eyes
wide with suspense.

Danny extended a hand, but Ethan ignored it,
letting it drop. I felt my alliance shift. I wasn’t Danny’s girl anymore. I was
really
married, and Ethan was the man I wanted to be with.

“I’m Ethan Yu, Elizabeth’s husband,” he
answered firmly.

I didn’t expect him to announce it this way. I
wanted Danny to hear it from me.

“I’m sorry… I wanted to tell you,” I explained.

“Married?” Danny gasped. “How can you be
married? Why?”

I looked helplessly at Ethan.

“Do you mind?” I asked.

“Actually, I do,” Ethan answered.

“We’ll talk outside,” I amended. “Danny, just
give me a minute to explain, okay?”

Danny backed out of the house and grabbed his
suitcases, which sat on the doorstep. I closed the door behind me, leaving
Ethan in the foyer with an irritated expression on his face.

Danny walked briskly to the rental car parked
in the driveway, tossed his luggage in the backseat, and walked around to the
driver’s side.

“It’s not what you think,” I pleaded, as Danny
climbed into the car.

“Not what I think! I just traveled across the country
to find out my girlfriend married some other guy! I can smell him all over you,
for
chrissakes
!” he sneered. “Don’t ever talk to me
again. Got it?”

He put the key in the ignition and started the
car, but I grabbed the door and pulled it open.

“Danny, it’s a marriage of convenience. It’s
not real.”

He looked up, eyes wide with disbelief.

“What?”

“It’s a marriage of convenience. I tried to
tell you before but I couldn’t.

Danny grabbed his cell phone, dropped it into
the inside of his jacket, then climbed out.

“Explain that again?” he said.

“I married Ethan to help him get a green card.
He’s the investor from China I told you about. Our fathers have been friends
for over thirty years. Daddy asked me to help him out.”

“You married a stranger for a green card?”

I nodded guiltily. “Only, he’s not exactly a
stranger. I’ve known him since I was a little. I wasn’t trying to hurt you,
Danny.”

“How long do you have to stay married to him?”

“Three years, before he can apply for permanent
residency. Then we go our separate ways,” I answered.

“I have to wait three years to be with you
again?”

“No doubt you won’t be waiting alone. I
understand if you want to move on.”

“I’ll need some time to think it over.”
“Don’t bother,” I replied. “It’s best we end things now. Like I said before, I
don’t expect you to wait for me. I’m sorry.”
Danny nodded, then solemnly climbed back into his car.

I strode back to the house, eyes brimming with
tears as I walked inside. Then I leaned against the door and quietly sobbed. I
didn’t expect it to be so hard.

As I pulled myself together, wiping tears from
my eyes, I looked up to find Ethan in the foyer standing before me.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded. “I told him it was over,” I said.

What I neglected to tell Ethan was what I told
Danny about our marriage. But I’d only said those things to soften the blow of
breaking up with him…
 

“I’m sorry you were forced to meet him like
this. I procrastinated over telling Danny the truth because it made me so
uncomfortable,” I confessed.

“Breaking up with a boyfriend is hard. I
understand,” he answered coolly.

“We were in the middle of something before he
got here. We can pick up where we left off. You were about to tell me
something,” I suggested, optimistically.
“Oh.
That.
Don’t worry about it. I forgot what I was going to say.”

I tried to decipher the frosty expression on
Ethan’s face, but to no avail.

And with that, he strode away, as I stood alone
in the foyer wiping tears from my eyes.

That night, Ethan slept in the guestroom, and I
slept in my own bed. I’d gotten used to his warm body, the feel of his arms
wrapped protectively around me, and making love every day for the past four
weeks, just before dawn. Did he hate me now? Did he think I was an evil bitch
for sleeping with him before officially breaking up with Danny? Was he not in
love with me? Moreover, was I falling in love with him?

The next morning I awoke to find a small pink
gift-wrapped box on the nightstand. Inside were four pieces of Peanut butter
and raspberry imported chocolate. I took one out, popped it into my mouth, then
ate another when I was done. That’s when I noticed the ring hidden in the box
in an empty crate. I slipped the gorgeous diamond ring on my finger then modeled
it, before closing the box again. Ethan strolled in a few minutes later,
dressed in a bath towel. He sat on the edge of the bed and shortly after, our
morning ritual resumed.

“Thank you, for the ring,” I said. “And the
chocolate…”

“You like it?”

“It was delicious.”

“I was talking about the ring.”

“It’s beautiful. But I really like the one I
already have.”

“I gave it to you for a reason. My mother would
like to see us get married in China.”

“In China? Does she know about the green card?”

“I would prefer she didn’t.”

“One lie always leads to another until it
snowballs out of control.”

“When I said I loved you I was telling the
truth.”

“Ethan—.”

He silenced me with a finger over my lips.

“We made love every day for the past four
weeks.”

“I know,” I smiled, sliding under his arm.
“What about it?”

“You don’t find it strange?”

“Not really,” I answered, wondering what he was
getting at.

Ethan shrugged. “Never mind, then.”

That night he left the guestroom and moved into
my room. I guess all was forgiven. We carried on much the same way, with only a
few weeks of our eight week leave from work to spare. At night, Ethan cooked
dinner, and in the morning I made breakfast. I was standing over the stove,
scrambling eggs one day when my cell phone rang. I recognized the number
immediately then pressed the ignore button. What on earth could Danny possibly
want?

He called again a few days later one morning
when Ethan was out at the grocery store, picking up items for dinner. So I
finally decided to take his call as I made pancakes for breakfast.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

“What do you want, Danny? I really don’t think
we have much to say to each other now.”
“On the contrary, I think we do.”
“What exactly would that be?” I asked, gripping the phone.

“Come and find out.”
“I can’t see you anymore.”

“But I have something for you.”

“Not interested,” I answered, cutting him off.

That’s when I heard the sound of my own voice
filtering through the line. It was a recording of me and Danny talking the
night I told him about Ethan.

Every word of what I said about the green card
had been recorded.

“As you can see, we still have plenty to
discuss.”

“You recorded our conversation. That’s
illegal.”

“Marrying a foreigner for a green card is
illegal. I’m just the jilted boyfriend. I’ll get off easy.”

“Why are you doing this?” I trembled.

“For money, of course. I thought when I married
you, my days of working a regular nine to five were over.”

“You were after my father’s money!” I
gasped. 

“Is that so wrong? Is it fair that you, and
people like your husband are born into wealth and I’m not?”

“We didn’t choose our parents.”
“Exactly. But we choose the people we’re married to,” he retorted. “And you
chose him, thus robbing me of my fortune.”
“What do you want, Danny?” I asked, cutting straight to the point.
“Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. A quarter-million will make things
right,” he said, in a snaky voice.