Chapter 8 The Breakfast Invitation
I stumbled away from Ethan's place, rain mingling with tears on my face.
What the hell just happened in there?
Each step took effort, as if my body was carrying more than just rainwater—it was weighed down by humiliation and fear.
"Olivia! Olivia!"
Blake's voice cut through the downpour. I looked up to see him driving toward me in a golf cart, concern etched across his face. He stopped abruptly, jumping out and rushing to my side.
"Jesus Christ, you're soaked!" He quickly removed his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Where the hell did you go?"
His hands rubbed my upper arms in an attempt to warm me, but I couldn't stop shaking. It wasn't just the cold.
"I—I got caught in the rain," I stammered. "And I... I ended up at your uncle's place."
I nodded, tears welling up again. "I didn't mean to trespass. There was this cat crying for her kittens..." My voice trailed off, deliberately omitting how his uncle had pulled me onto his lap.
Blake's expression shifted from worry to guilt. "Shit, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you alone." He took my hand, squeezing it gently. "Don't worry, you're my guest here. He won't be angry with you."
I tried to smile through my tears. "I really didn't mean to."
"I know." He pulled me closer, guiding me to the golf cart. "Let's get you back to your room and into dry clothes before you catch pneumonia."
Hours later, I sat by the window of my guest room, cradling a mug of hot chocolate between my palms. I'd showered and changed into cozy pajamas, but I couldn't shake the chill that had settled deep in my bones. The rain continued to beat against the glass, creating hypnotic patterns that matched my racing thoughts.
What did Ethan mean by asking me to stay with him? Was it just to mess with me? To scare me away from Blake?
Maybe he didn't want someone like me—a scholarship student from nowhere special—getting involved with his nephew. Maybe this was his way of warning me off, making me uncomfortable enough to leave on my own.
That has to be it, I thought, absently tracing the rim of my mug. He's protecting the family name. Making sure the Bennett heir doesn't end up with someone beneath their station.
I couldn't imagine any other reason for his bizarre behavior. Why else would a powerful man like him suddenly take interest in me? It had to be about keeping me away from Blake. The thought stung more than I wanted to admit.
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.
"Hey," Blake said, poking his head in. "Uncle Ethan called. Wants me to come over. I'll be back soon, okay? Try to get some sleep."
My lips parted, wanting to tell him what I thought.
But the words died in my throat. What if Blake confronted Ethan, and he got angry?
I couldn't afford to make an enemy of Blake. And I definitely couldn't afford to make an enemy of someone like Ethan Bennett.
I nodded, forcing a smile. "Sure."
I must have dozed off eventually, because I woke to another knock. The room was dark now, the rain having subsided to a gentle patter.
"Liv? You awake?" Blake's voice came through the door.
I remained perfectly still, evening my breathing. I wasn't ready to face him or his questions. Not tonight.
The door creaked open, and light from the hallway spilled across the floor. I felt the bed dip as Blake sat beside me, his hand gently stroking my hair.
He leaned down, placing a kiss on my temple. I fought the urge to stiffen at his touch.
After a moment, he sighed and stood up. The door closed quietly behind him.
"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!"
Blake's cheerful voice jarred me awake. Sunlight streamed through the windows he'd just uncovered by pulling back the heavy drapes.
"What time is it?" I mumbled, burying my face in the pillow.
"Seven thirty. Time to get up." He sat on the edge of the bed, looking fresh and excited in a tailored suit. "We're having breakfast with Uncle Ethan in half an hour."
My stomach dropped. "What? Why do we have to go to your uncle's?"
"Because he invited us." Blake's tone suggested this was perfectly normal. "He didn't even mention you wandering into his place. He was actually in a decent mood—he's giving me a chance to work at Bennett Enterprise."
Thank God I hadn't shared my suspicions with Blake. I would have looked like I was trying to cause trouble between them.
As he turned to leave, I called after him, "Blake, I don't want to go."
He paused, looking back with confusion. "Why not?"
"I just... I feel uncomfortable after yesterday."
Blake's expression softened. "Hey, it's fine. If he was upset, he would have said something. Trust me, my uncle never holds back when he's pissed." He smiled reassuringly. "Now hurry up. Being late would definitely make him angry."
Forty minutes later, we approached Ethan's residence.
"You look nervous," Blake observed, squeezing my hand. "Relax. It's just breakfast."
But it wasn't just breakfast. Not to me. It was facing the man who had pulled me onto his lap less than twenty-four hours ago, who had made my skin burn with his touch, who had offered to trade a kitten for my company.
The courtyard I'd stumbled through in the rain now gleamed in the morning light. Perfectly manicured gardens surrounded the path leading to Ethan's front door, which opened before we could knock.
We walked through the house to a dining room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean. The table was already set with fine china and crystal glasses.
Ethan sat at the head of the table, reviewing documents with a scowl. He didn't look up when we entered.
"Mr. Blake, I understand you're young and, ah, full of youthful energy with your new girlfriend," Walter, the elderly butler, said, attempting to lighten the mood, "but punctuality is something Mr. Ethan values highly."
Blake opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, Ethan's eyes snapped up, suddenly cold and intense. Without a word, he slammed his folder down on the table. The sound echoed through the room like a gunshot.
I jumped, my heart leaping into my throat. Blake stiffened beside me.
