Chapter 17: Directly Kissed!

The man sitting across from Cameron was tall and still, one leg crossed over the other, a small magnetic therapy device pressed to his temple. His eyes were closed. His features, in repose, were the kind that made the air around them feel different, sharper, somehow, as though the room had rearranged itself around him without being asked.

Even with his eyes shut, the authority radiating off Ethan Hartwell was enough to fill the entire office.

Cameron, who had been ignored for the past four minutes, was undeterred.

"Okay so, you called me at the crack of dawn," he said, circling the chair slowly, "asked me to arrange treatment, made me abandon my morning plans, and then asked me how to get a girl's attention." He stopped. Tilted his head. "And now you've had me lure her here. Which means yesterday, when you told me nothing happened between you two" He pointed. "That was a lie."

Silence.

"Ethan." Cameron's eyes went wide. "Did you actually"

The woman had been in a car accident. Not seriously hurt, granted, but still. A car accident. And he

Cameron pressed both hands to his face.

"That is beastly." A pause. "I'm thrilled for you, but that is objectively beastly. Who made the first move? It wasn't strangulation, that's not your style. Did you have a fever? Did the universe temporarily malfunction? Or" His voice climbed. "did she take advantage of a vulnerable moment and"

Ethan opened his eyes.

One look.

"Shut up."

Cameron shut up.

For approximately four seconds.

"How did you know her last name was Rong?" he started again, quieter now, circling back around. "You had someone look into her, didn't you. You actually ran a background check. Ethan" His voice carried genuine disbelief. "Are you serious?"

Ethan removed the magnetic patch from his temple and set it on the desk. The restlessness in his chest had not improved much. He spoke without looking up.

"I wasn't certain," he said. "So I wanted to verify."

Cameron stared at him. "Verify what, exactly? This isn't something you can just, you can't check that like you're confirming a stock price"

The knock at the door cut him off.

Three light raps. Then the handle turned.

"Dr. Reid, my name is Vivian Rong, I'm here to pay the"

She stepped through the doorway and stopped.

The words dissolved mid-sentence.

Ethan had turned from the window.

Vivian's eyes went wide.

Ethan Hartwell.

Here. In a neurology office at Manhattan Central Hospital. Without a white coat in sight and with absolutely no medical justification for his presence.

She scanned the room in a single sweep. No Dr. Reid. No clipboard. No hospital equipment. Just Ethan, standing with the relaxed certainty of a man who had been waiting, and the distant sound of Cameron Reid having apparently vanished into thin air.

Her mind moved quickly.

Did he arrange this?

She rejected it almost immediately. What reason would Ethan Hartwell have to engineer a meeting with her? A man of his standing didn't need tricks. And if he had somehow connected her to Rosie, he wouldn't be standing here quietly, there would be lawyers involved.

She collected herself.

Smoothed her expression into something polite and distant and entirely composed.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hartwell." She smiled, brief, professional. "I must have the wrong office. I'm looking for a Dr. Reid. He asked me to meet him here." She was already stepping back, hand finding the door handle. "I won't disturb you."

She pulled the door.

Her wrist was caught.

She was pulled, sharply, decisively, back into the room, and her back met the closed door with a soft thud, and then there was no more space between them at all, and his face was close, too close, and his mouth

was on hers.

Vivian's eyes flew open.

Every rational thought she possessed arrived simultaneously and promptly canceled each other out.

Ethan Hartwell was kissing her.

Not tentatively. Not accidentally.

Deliberately.