Accidentally in Love, page 13
“Why? Has he emptied his bank account? Has he managed to find a way of opening another account hidden away in Panama?”
“Worse, much worse! He’s moved into my house!” Sara exclaimed desperately.
She quickly relayed the events of the past few days to Rebecca, who remained completely silent, letting her finish, before proposing a solution. Her friend was famous for never being discouraged in the face of a problem, but up until that moment she’d never had a client who had decided to kick down her front door …
“Go to his brother and insist that he throws Ethan out of your house,” she said briskly.
Sara had thought about doing that after Richter had dismissed her, but going to whine about Ethan to his family was the last resource she had available. Not to mention the fact that it wouldn’t make her look very good.
“What, are we at junior school? I go running to his family, begging them to take him back? I’m his guardian! I’m supposed to be able to handle him…”
But her friend was somewhat doubtful. “Sara, let’s be frank for a minute – no one can handle him, that’s exactly the point here. I don’t understand why you want to try to when everyone has washed their hands of him. Nobody would blame you if you did the same… I mean, under the circumstances…”
Sara cut her off. “But that’s exactly the point! That’s exactly the type of thing he’s expecting me do. He can’t wait to for me to give up the job. Those are his tactics, don’t you understand?”
But Rebecca remained doubtful. “Listen Sara, most court appointed guardians are dealing with old people who are out of their minds, to stop them from deciding to get married to eighteen year olds, or to stop them from handing out their money to passers-by. I’ve had to deal with people throwing hundred dollar bills out of the window myself. But they were old, and at most a bit bitter and mean, but basically harmless. Ethan is a different case altogether, a much bigger problem. And I’m not just talking about his size, which, to be quite frank, is also an issue – I mean, how do we know what he’s like when he drinks too much? Which, let me remind you, is something he tends to do pretty often, from what I’ve seen in his file. The world is full of violent drunkards, and you’ve no way of being sure he’s not one of them.”
“I told him not to drink at my house and not to get drunk,” Sara promptly informed her. She was optimistic, not stupid, and for once in her life she had followed her sixth sense, which told her that Ethan was all smoke and no fire. All that was left was to hope she had been right.
“And he’s going to abide by these rules because…?” asked Rebecca, leaving the phrase hanging in the air.
“Because, obviously, we made a deal,” Sara replied seriously.
Her friend stared at her in amazement, her mouth wide open. “Please tell me you’re joking and that you haven’t just told me that you seriously believe he will honor your deal .”
“Why not?”
Rebecca banged her hand on the desk. “Because he’s a crazy waste of time drunk, that’s why! ”
“You are probably right,” said Sara with a shrug, “that’s obvious, but I feel in my heart that there’s hope. I can’t explain the exact reason, but I feel like I’m not completely wasting my time and patience.”
“You can’t explain because you are well aware that there aren’t any precise reasons! We’re talking about Ethan Phelps, Sara! What was all that talk about being cautious and not getting too involved in all this?”
“But I am being cautious! It’s just that I think it would be foolish to throw away the chance of positively influencing…” she muttered, lowering her voice.
Rebecca raised her eyebrows in alarm and scrutinized her for a long time before letting out a resigned sigh. It was obvious she had decided not to insist further. “Okay, do it your way. I knew that you would anyway. But all I ask of you is that you be careful – you’ve got some guy living in your house who you don’t know at all. All you know is how much he spends, and that’s hardly the same thing…”
“Don’t worry. Anyway, I’m sure Ethan will struggle to handle living in an infamous neighborhood of Brooklyn for a week and he’ll soon go back to his old hunting ground. He’s just trying to push my buttons. Again. As soon as he realizes that he can’t get a rise out of me he’ll drop everything. I mean, there’s no other valid reason for him to continue to stay there. By my standards, my guest room is great, but it’s certainly not luxurious enough to satisfy him. And he complains about everything: why don’t I have an Olympic size bathtub, why isn’t there a jacuzzi with chromotherapy, and why is the TV so small, and where are the speakers for the surround sound, and it takes so long to get home from downtown Manhattan… in short, he’s already completely fed up of it all.”
Or at least she hoped that he soon would be. Sara was not used to sharing her space with another person, and being forced to live with someone who had such a different timetable and so many different habits was proving to be hard on her nerves. “Not to mention that he can’t stand my untidiness and that he’s really risking me stabbing him for that damn disinfectant he’s always spraying everywhere. I’m almost afraid he might start drinking the stuff, seeing that there’s no booze in my house…”
“You got rid of it all? Wow, you really are motivated,” Rebecca complimented her. “But come on, have you forgotten that you’re not a rehab clinic? Anyway, full marks to you for tenacity.”
Sara was a little stung by her friend’s last observation, which revealed a certain sarcasm. “I know that I’m not a doctor, and I don’t expect I’ll see any results, but if you don’t mind me saying, as long as he decides to live under my roof, I feel that I have the moral responsibility to try to keep certain temptations out of his way. It’s difficult to get drunk if there isn’t a drop of alcohol around, and if he wants to go looking for it in the evenings, he’ll still have to be patient until he gets to one of the clubs that’s been ‘approved’ by the Department of Health.”
“Approved? ” asked Rebecca.
“Yeah – he has this crazy fear of microbes and dirt and so he can’t eat or drink in places that haven’t been shown to have an adequate level of hygiene,” Sara explained to her as if it were all perfectly normal.
“Are you kidding me?” her friend said, and started laughing.
“Do I look as if I’m joking?”
“No, actually, you don’t…” Rebecca admitted, continuing to laugh. “But I suppose his weird way of behaving might have some positive implications. How many places close to your home can you imagine having the basic hygiene levels that he requires?”
Sara had thought the same thing as soon as she’d put her plan into action. “Rebecca, I can see that we are on the same wavelength.”
And they both burst out laughing.
*
Ethan had the niggling sensation that his plan wasn’t working. And to think it had seemed so brilliant when he’d come up with it…
For the first two days, Sara had seemed pretty upset and somewhat irritated to see that her house had been invaded. She had tried to disguise her dissatisfaction, but it was evident that underneath her anger was boiling away like a pan of jam left on the stove for hours. Which was exactly why he moved to an area of the city he’d never have imagined setting foot in. Bensonhurst didn’t have what it took to be a fashionable neighborhood, and wouldn’t become one for at least the next two centuries. And that was being generous, even in the remote possibility that the real estate market went back to being the beta asset class it had been before the collapse of Lehman brothers.
No, to make something of itself, the area would need to be completely gentrified. He found himself in an aesthetically ugly neighborhood full of dubious looking bars and clubs. And the inhabitants were strange too: an unnerving mix of Italians and Russians living in mutual indifference, each group careful not to invade the other’s space. If the inhabitants of Manhattan seemed to be pretty well integrated, down there in Bensonhurst they stuck to the old rules. Everyone had their own area, so to speak. For a while he had been hopelessly convinced that his plan was working properly, but then something inexplicable had happened and Sara had started behaving differently toward him. Not only had she stopped hating him, but she had actually started to be nice. Annoyingly nice. So now he found himself living in an apartment that was a million miles from what he liked, with a flatmate who was the most untidy woman in the world and who absolutely refused to give up.
I mean, come on , they always gave up! Why did she insist on pretending that it mattered to her? She should have reacted to him invading her apartment the only way possible – by immediately running to Judge Richter and handing in her notice!
But no. God alone knew how, but she had summoned up some kind of Zen calm and had swallowed the whole situation, carrying on as if nothing was happening. As if there was nothing strange about the fact that a total stranger had turned up at her house, replaced the front door and moved in with all his own furniture. Ethan himself felt that kind of behavior wasn’t at all normal. He might not really be the best person to say what was normal and what wasn’t. Still, anybody else would have considered his behavior absolutely outrageous, to say the least.
And all human beings kept at least some alcohol in the house! A beer, a bottle of wine, or just a drop of ethanol, for God’s sake! So either Sara had been an alcoholic in a past life, something which he seriously doubted, or else she was being careful there was never even the slightest drop of alcohol in his presence. Which was even worse. Ethan hated having to deal with people who created expectations, especially if they were concerned about him, because they would certainly be disappointed. It wasn’t even worth them trying – all they’d get would be a sore head.
Sara was tenacious, he had to admit it. She was like a hound on the trail of a scent, and at that point it was obvious she wasn’t going to give in without a fight. There were two possibilities left for him: give up first and go and look for an apartment to stay in while waiting for his house to be redecorated, or try to drive her crazy in some other way. Maybe intruding into her life and creating some sort of annoyance, seeing as just the fact of his presence wasn’t working. Of course, that would take a bit longer and require more complex planning than he had anticipated, but it was still worth trying.
After all, he had nothing better to do.
*
Sara came through the door of her house, tired and irritated because of a trial that had turned out to be more complicated than expected. All she wanted was to have a nice shower, make herself a cup of hot chocolate and enjoy a stupid film or something that required minimal mental effort.
She went into the living room, intent on throwing herself down on the couch, but was forced to desist.
“What the hell is going on here?” she asked, starring at Ethan, who was lying on the couch – clad only in a pair of black boxers, naturally – with a gigantic bowl of popcorn. He was staring with avid interest at an enormous TV hanging on the wall. It certainly wasn’t the one that had been there that morning. This new toy was at least triple the size of her old one, and made the basketball game he was watching look rather too real for comfort. She half suspected that the noise coming out of the speakers was actually louder than that the spectators in the arena were hearing.
He lazily lifted one of his muscular arms and ran his hand through the long hair, looking like the living portrait of a man without a care in the world. “Oh, hi there,” he greeted her with some satisfaction, noticing her dismayed face.
“Been shopping?” she asked, pointing at the giant screen hanging on her wall.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Ethan gave her one of his best smiles, showing all of his thirty-two teeth. He was making an attempt to hide the satisfaction felt at playing such a mean trick, but was failing miserably.
She rolled her eyes. “Do you want to explain to me why you insist on spending money, which you’re always complaining you never have enough of, on such stupid things as a new TV? In my house? ” she asked, raising her voice. She considered herself a reasonable woman, but this forced living together and his ridiculous games were beginning to send her stress levels right off the scale.
Ethan didn’t seem to notice her anger and sat up to make room for her to sit on the couch. But she stayed just where she was, putting her heavy briefcase against the wall.
“Your little TV set was driving me mad,” Ethan said, after a long silence.
“It wasn’t small – it was almost thirty inches,” she rectified, annoyed at not having been asked. At this rate he would soon be changing everything he didn’t like – and Sara imagined there were probably lots of things he didn’t like.
“Exactly, and this is eighty inches, so you shouldn’t feel offended – you should, in fact, be jumping up and down for joy, thinking of some nice thing you can do for me in exchange for all the kind things I’ve done for you lately.” He chuckled with obvious sarcasm .
“When you leave, which I hope will happen very soon, that object will be leaving with you. Is that clear?” The TV was so big that it completely dominated the room, and she imagined that during a close-up you could probably count the number of pores on the actors’ faces. Needless to say, the prospect did not exactly fill her with joy.
“And give up the possibility of bribing you with gifts?”
“This isn’t any kind of gift – this is just something that you wanted for yourself,” she pointed out.
He seemed to be thinking things over for a moment and then smiled. “Whatever…” he tried to ignore her and concentrate on the game, but Sara showed no signs of going anywhere. “Would you mind moving out of the way? You’re not transparent, you know,” he said calmly.
She folded her arms. “Well fancy that. I could say the same thing about you – what do you mean by parading about my house wearing only boxer shortsShe was trying not to blush at his obvious near nakedness.
Ethan stared at her in surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry, nanny – I didn’t realize there were rules on how I should dress when I’m in the house! Of course, if you keep going on about how I’m ‘naked’, I’ll be forced to show you what it really means to go around with absolutely nothing on. Believe me, there is quite a big difference between wearing boxer shorts and not wearing them…” he warned her with a smirk.
“You wouldn’t dare…” she whispered, looking shocked. But she wasn’t really sure it was true: Ethan would be quite capable of jumping out of the window if he thought it would get him what he wanted. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry for speaking,” she said hastily, raising her hand in a sign of surrender. “As long as you respect the other rules we agreed on, go ahead and sit there in your boxers if it makes you happy. Wear whatever the hell you like.” She was too tired to quarrel with someone infantile enough to think exhibitionism was a grown-up way of rebelling.
He smiled, pleased to have won at least one round. “Great! And now, what do you say about letting me see the game?” HE handed her a closed takeaway box as she approached him. “Take a seat – Vietnamese, the best in town,” he explained as Sara perched on the couch and took the box.
“What the hell is this stuff?” she asked, almost fearful of opening it.
“Bò kho – beef stew,” he explained while concentrated on the basketball match.
“It doesn’t look very inviting…Can’t I have some of your popcorn?”
But he snatched the bowl away from her. “Never touch the bowl I’m eating from! ”
Sara was astonished. “I already know that I’m going to regret asking this, but why?”
“Who knows what you’ve touched… Have you washed your hands since you came home?” he asked, although he knew very well that she hadn’t.
“Erm… no, actually” she had to admit in a quiet voice. She got up from the couch, put the Vietnamese food down on the floor and left the room. “Okay, I’m going, I’m going….”
When she came back a few minutes later, she was wearing her jogging pants and her hair was loose. “Can I have some popcorn now?” she asked leaning in the direction of the bowl and deciding to ignore the Vietnamese food.
But Ethan pushed her away again. “I’m sorry, but no, you can’t. From a hygienic point of view, it’s just not practical.”
Sara glared at him. “Listen, you psycho,” she ordered furiously, “gimme that damn bowl!”
“Or else?” he asked calmly. She jumped on the couch first and then on him with the exclusive intention of getting what was, quite apart from anything else, her bowl.
Ethan held it tight in one hand and with the other fended her off, grabbing her by the waist, and somehow Sara found herself sitting astride him. The contact was sudden and strange – so strange that Sara froze. Sitting on top of a man clad only in boxer shorts…
Ethan had frozen too. He was holding onto her waist and didn’t seem to want to remove his hand.
“Oooookay, this is a bit embarrassing,” said Sara, feeling her cheeks turning red. She really had to find herself a man and she had to do it as soon as possible. She was in such a bad way that the slightest touch from a guy practically made her self-combust. And of course, the fact that he was half naked wasn’t helping things one bit.
Don’t look at his chest! she told herself. Look at something else!
But her will was weak, because her eyes remained glued to his broad shoulders, before descending to his abs. Apparently, his love of booze hadn’t yet ruined his physique. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Not only did he not answer her, he actually kept staring at her.
And just as Sara was convinced that the situation could not get any worse, a certain part of Ethan’s body seemed to develop a life of its own… Sara remained motionless in her astonishment, but Ethan’s face took on such an uncomfortable expression that she almost burst out laughing. Given his dismay, she should have been offended, but her sense of humour advised her not to take it personally. Instead, she decided to use that moment of weakness to escape his clutches and grab the bowl of popcorn. It was true what they said – always keep your final objective in mind.
