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Authors: Mallory Monroe

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BOOK: IF YOU WANTED THE MOON
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“Oh, yeah, Ethan would love that.”

“Why would he care? Unless . . .”

Tori looked back at Freddy, terrified that her secret would be revealed. “Unless what?”

“Unless there’s more to this relationship than you’re letting on.”

“It’s not. Ethan Chandler isn’t exactly Mr. Romantic.”

Morton laughed. “I know that’s right. I don’t know how you can even stand to be under the same roof with a dirtbag like him.”

Tori leaned back. She always felt she could talk with Freddy. “It’s not easy, that’s for sure.”

“I guess that house is so big that he can be on one side of it and you can be on the other side, and you wouldn’t know what he was up to.”

Hardly, she thought. That house looked huge, but it was nothing more than a one-bedroom bachelor pad. “Yeah,” she said, choosing not to go into details.

“I hate him,” Morton said and Tori looked at him.

“What?” she said with a smile, as if Morton had to be joking.

“I hate him,” Morton repeated himself with al sincerity. “I hate everything about him. He uses people and then spit them out, that’s his trademark. Don’t get caught up in his undertow, Tori.”

“Fred, what are you talking about? What undertow?”

Morton exhaled. “My father once worked for him, you know that?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“That was when Chandler was a smal-time contractor. My old man was his foreman. He learned everything he knows today from my old man. And he took from him and took from him and worked

him to death. Then he makes it big, becomes a real estate developer, and kicks my old man to the curb. Didn’t offer him squat. Your services are no longer needed, was al his so-caled representative said to my Dad.”

“I’m sorry,” Tori said heartfelt.

“Chandler wasn’t. He couldn’t care less. He didn’t even come to my old man’s funeral. My Dad worshiped the ground Chandler walked on and he didn’t even show up for the funeral. Even after

Chandler had fired him in such a cold, nasty way, he stil kept insisting that Chandler knew nothing about the firing, that if only he could get in to see Chandler he’d clear this al up. I told him he was dreaming, that a bastard like that always knew what he was doing and who was doing it for him. But he wouldn’t listen. Chandler was a saint in his eyes.” Morton smiled. “But that’s al right. Pay day is coming after while.”

Tori didn’t know what to make of Morton’s last comment, so she didn’t question it. But she did know that he hated Ethan, he’d said so himself, and she would have to tel him so. Not to snitch on her friend, but because Ethan had a right to know that one of his senior executives, a man he undoubtedly had a lot of confidence in, hated his guts.

But by the time she made it home, wel after one a.m., she was too busy hating Ethan too to tel him anything. It started as soon as she said her goodnights to Fred and entered the house. Ethan was just coming out of his study, his hands in his pocket, his entire face shrouded in exhaustion as if he’d just come back from some heavy-duty, emotional ride. “Where were you?” he said to her as he walked toward her.

“I told you I was having dinner with Fred Morton.”

“And I told you to be in my house by eleven. Didn’t I tel you that, Tori?”

“I’m not a child. I don’t have curfews. And if you prefer I stay in a hotel, I’l gladly go.”

“You won’t disrespect me, Tori!” he said bitterly as he stood directly in front of her.

“Disrespect you? How am I disrespecting you?”

“You went to dinner, and where else?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“You’re here to work, not to rol in the hay with Morton!”

“Forget you,” Tori said angrily and began walking away. Ethan grabbed her by the arm. She looked at his hand and then into his eyes. The fire in them terrified her.

“What’s the matter with you?” she asked him. “Everybody thinks you’re such a monster. Why are you always so determined to prove them right?”

He stared at Tori, wanting desperately to confide in her, and to ask her why was she so determined to prove him wrong, but he didn’t say a word. He eased his grip on her, and then released her

altogether. She sighed, saddened that an already awful day had to end up even worse, and went upstairs to bed. She slept alone again. But refused to shed even a tear.

FOURTEEN

The next day was a bright Sunday and Ethan sat stoicaly as he listened to the recording of Tori’s night with Fred Morton. Ethan was stunned to learn that Morton hated him. It was true that he had fired Morton’s father al those years ago, but what Morton failed to mention was that his father was a chronic alcoholic who started coming to work drunk, putting projects in jeopardy and men at risk. He had no choice but to fire him.

Yet Ethan was inwardly thriled that there was nothing on the tape that suggested any involvement by Tori. Grier and Brennan tried to spin the results, urging Ethan to give it more time, but Ethan had other ideas. This undercover way was too much about Morton when, now, it was Tori’s involvement that most concerned him. And before he could even begin to concentrate again on Morton, he had to

find out where Tori stood.

“I want to set her up,” he said as he sat at the round table inside the hotel room. Grier and Brennan, who sat with him, looked at each other and then looked at their boss.

“You want to set Douglas up?” Grier clarified.

“That’s right. I want, I need to know the extent of her involvement.” Ethan said this at some risk or revealing his feelings for her, but it was past feeling now for him. “You say she’s the one passing on the intel. I say fine, I’l give her some intel, some inaccurate intel, of course, and see if she passes it along.”

Grier was immediately skeptical. “You’re going to attempt this here in Florida?” he asked.

Ethan nodded. “No. We’re going back to Chicago. This wiring of Tori business won’t work in my estimation because they could be passing notes to each other for al we know.”

“You think Morton suspects something then?” Brennan asked.

“You think Morton suspects something then?” Brennan asked.

“No, but he could be passing notes just to be on the safe side. Morton’s just that shrewd.”

“I’l agree with that,” Grier said. “But maybe if we give our plan a little more time—”

Ethan stood up. “Time is what I do not have, gentlemen,” he said. “That’s why I’ve got to get to the bottom of this and get there now. Wrap this thing up. Tori and I are leaving this afternoon. Find a way to remove al of those wires from her clothes. Maybe while she’s in the shower or something. When we’re back in Chicago I’l have a staff meeting and reveal the fake bid and cost projections.” Ethan buttoned his suit coat. “Have a nice day, gentlemen,” he said confidently as he left, although he could hardly see the road ahead.

Tori felt as if she was in a fog as their plane flew from Florida back to Chicago. Ever since Ethan arrived home and told her to pack her bags, they were leaving, she felt numb. Their relationship had gone from 10 to 0 overnight and she couldn’t understand why. At first she thought this sudden need to leave town had something to do with her date with Fred Morton, but Ethan’s behavior had changed even before he came to town. It al changed, she now believe, after he had saved her and that little boy from disaster in the streets. It was as if his true feelings were on display at that very moment, and he couldn’t deal with that.

Wel, that was just great, she thought as she leaned her head back on the plane and closed her eyes. Ethan was sitting shotgun with the pilot and seemed to be avoiding her probing eyes big time. She had falen for a man who didn’t know how to deal with his emotions which was just terrific. And at his age.

And there was the other concern as wel. The unmentionable, as Tori now regarded it. What if his hesitation, she thought, had more to do with her race than with any problem he was having with his

emotions? What if she was too black for his white bread world? After al, she never saw any black woman on his arm in al of those magazine articles she read about him. He was always pictured with tal, white blondes of very definite Anglo Saxon stock. The more Tori thought about it, coupled with Ethan’s behavior, the more convinced she was that that had to be it. Ethan Chandler was too sophisticated a man to be knocked off course by something as tamable as his emotions. It had to be the race issue. It had to be. Tori opened her eyes. Stunned by the revelation. But it had to be, she said again, this time aloud.

After the plane stopped down in Chicago, a limousine met them and drove them to Tori’s apartment. There was no conversation in the car, as Ethan spent the entire time on the phone with his “people.”

But when the limo stopped in front of Tori’s apartment, and Ethan stepped out to let her out, he gave her a kiss on the lips. The kiss came so sudden that Tori didn’t have a chance to refuse it, which she definitely would have. Ethan, too, was surprised, as he had not intended to kiss her. But when he saw those sultry eyes and those enticing lips of hers, he couldn’t help himself. He stil wanted her, despite what he knew about her.

His chauffeur grabbed Tori’s luggage out of the trunk and stood on the sidewalk waiting to folow her to her apartment. But he didn’t have to wait long. She nor Ethan lingered.

“Good evening, Miss Douglas,” Ethan said after he had kissed her and Tori, understanding the formality of his words, was more than wiling to change hers, too.

“Good evening, Mr. Chandler,” she said and walked away, toward the chauffeur and then toward her apartment, without looking back.

Ethan watched her with more than a little regret, his heart aching at what might have been. Then he dismissed such feelings, got into his limo, and slammed the door.

FIFTEEN

Sheila and Macy were over to Tori’s apartment within hours of her return. Tori had only to open the door and let them in before they were both begging for details.

“There’s nothing to tel,” Tori said, rather tired by her emotional ride with Ethan.

“Girl, don’t give me that,” Macy said, sitting on the sofa Indian-style and anxious for Tori to dish the dirt. “He hit you on the behind. Begin there!”

“I realy don’t feel like rehashing that old news,” Tori said as she sat in the chair flanking the sofa.

“Old news?” Sheila said, sitting beside Macy. “I hadn’t even heard about it.”

“Because it’s nothing,” Tori said. It was everything, but she wasn’t about to tel them that.

“Let us be the judge of that,” Macy said. “Now what happened? Why aren’t you happy anymore?”

Tori leaned her head back. “I realy don’t want to talk about this, guys.”

“Wel, we can understand that,” Sheila, always the levelheaded one, said, but Macy wasn’t so easily persuaded.

“Speak for yourself, doc. I don’t understand it. You were thriled, Tori. You talked as if you and Ethan Chandler were. . . an item. Now you don’t wanna talk about it? Palease.”

“Okay,” Tori finaly gave in. “First of al, we were not a quote, unquote ‘item.’ But things were looking up for us. But then I went over to Neal’s house and—”

“Neal?” Macy asked. “Who the heck is Neal?”

“Neal Hurst. This good looking professor—”

“Black man?” Macy asked.

“Yes, Mace, he’s black and single and gorgeous, al that.”

“Wel my goodness, Tori. You have’em faling out of trees! I bet if I go to the Florida Keys al I’l end up with is Sheila complaining that I am too old and too inteligent to be chasing some man.”

“Wel it’s true,” Sheila said. Then she turned to Tori. “So you went to Neal’s house?”

“Right. He invited me for dinner. But Ethan decides—”

“Right. He invited me for dinner. But Ethan decides—”

“Ethan?” Both Sheila and Macy said simultaneously. Tori smiled.

“Yes, Ethan, okay? Ethan decided to go with me to dinner.”

“Whoa,” Macy said, her hand up. “Hold up. You mean to tel me that some good looking hunk of a brother invited you to dinner, and that stuff shirt Ethan Chandler invited himself along?”

Tori nodded. “That’s what I’m teling you.”

“Some nerve he’s got,” Macy said. “I like it!”

“Any
who
,” Sheila said to get the conversation on track again, “so Mr. Chandler accompanied you to Neal’s house?”

“Right. And, as you can expect, it didn’t go over so wel with Neal. Wel, to make a long story short, Ethan decides that it’s time for us to go. Wel, unfortunately, I disagreed.”

“Why is that unfortunate?” Sheila asked. “You had every right to disagree.”

“I know, but. . . After Ethan left, Neal came onto me. And he wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“A persistent brother,” Macy said, smiling. “I like him already.”

“He tried to rape me, Mace,” Tori said and Macy’s smile immediately left.

“What?” she said.

“Did he . . .” Sheila asked, but Tori shook her head.

“No, thank God. I was able to get away. But when Ethan saw me, he was so angry. He undressed me and put me in his Jacuzzi.”

“He undressed you?” Sheila asked. “Why didn’t he phone the police first, let them see the evidence of your ordeal?”

“Girl, you are so dense,” Macy said. “Does Ethan Chandler look like the kind of man who’s gonna wait for the police to handle his business?”

“It was Tori’s business.”

“And he made it his business, didn’t he Tore?”

Tori nodded. “He did. While I was in the Jacuzzi he left and didn’t come back until hours later. The next day, Ethan’s so-caled ‘people’ were helping an apparently badly beaten Neal pack up and

leave Cedar Key.”

Macy laughed. “Now that’s what I cal a man of action. Ethan Chandler al right by me.”

“Any
who
,” Sheila said. “That didn’t bring y’al closer together?”

“Yes. It did. That’s the crazy part. The next night, we made love! He even held me on top of him al night.”

Sheila and Macy looked at each other.

“Not like that,” Tori said. “This was innocent and sweet.”

BOOK: IF YOU WANTED THE MOON
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