Chapter 2

Back at Sterling Capital the following Monday, the air in the executive suite was thick with Chase Albright.

His expensive cologne was a cloying fog. Laughter, Chase's booming, Tori's lighter, echoed from her office.

Ethan's stomach clenched. The dull ache in his recently healed ankle was a phantom pain compared to this.

He saw them through the sliver of open doorway as he passed. Tori, perched on the edge of her desk, laughing up at Chase, who leaned against it, all predatory charm. Chase's hand was on her arm.

Ethan forced himself to look away, focusing on the stack of reports in his hand.

He needed Tori's signature for the quarterly investor briefing, due by noon.

He knocked softly. "Ms. Sterling?"

Tori turned, a slight frown appearing when she saw him. Chase didn't even bother to look.

"Ethan. What is it? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"The quarterly reports, Ms. Sterling. They need your signature. Deadline is noon."

Chase finally glanced at him, a smirk playing on his lips. "Always about the deadlines with this one, isn't he, Tori darling?"

Tori waved a dismissive hand. "Later, Ethan. Chase is just telling me about his new venture. It's fascinating."

"Ms. Sterling, the European investors are expecting this..."

"I said later!" Her voice was sharp. "Chase and I are going to grab an early lunch. He's famished. Aren't you, sweetie?"

Chase grinned, pulling her closer. "Starving."

Ethan stood there, the reports feeling like lead weights.

"The investors are quite particular about timing, Ms. Sterling."

"Then you'll just have to smooth things over, won't you?" Tori said, already turning back to Chase, her tone implying it was his problem to solve.

An hour later, Ethan was on a conference call, taking the heat.

Mr. Dubois, a key European stakeholder, was not pleased.

"Mr. Miller, this is highly irregular. Ms. Sterling assured us personally these would be on time."

"My sincerest apologies, Mr. Dubois. There was an unforeseen internal delay. Ms. Sterling will sign them immediately upon her return. I will courier them to you directly."

He endured Dubois's lecture on punctuality and professionalism, the humiliation coiling in his gut. He was the face of Tori's irresponsibility.

When Tori and Chase finally returned, flushed and laughing, nearly two hours later, Ethan approached her again, his expression carefully neutral.

"Ms. Sterling, the reports."

Chase, who was examining a painting on Tori's wall, turned. "Still on about those papers, Miller? Persistent little bugger, aren't you?"

He walked over to Ethan, crowding him.

"You know, Tori, this office needs a bit more... flair. This art is so dreadfully dull." He then looked down at Ethan's shoes. "And your shoes are a disgrace, Miller. Scuffed. Can't have the CEO's assistant looking like a pauper."

Before Ethan could react, Chase "accidentally" spilled his iced coffee, the cold liquid splashing down Ethan's shirt and trousers.

"Oh, terribly sorry," Chase said, not sounding sorry at all. "Clumsy of me." He then nudged Ethan with his elbow, hard, in the ribs. "Go get that cleaned up. And maybe polish your shoes while you're at it."

The nudge was deliberate, painful. Ethan bit back a gasp.

Tori, who had witnessed the whole thing, merely sighed.

"Really, Ethan. Can't you be more careful? Now look at the mess."

"He spilled it on me, Ms. Sterling," Ethan said, his voice tight.

Chase feigned innocence. "I tripped, darling. He was standing too close."

Tori didn't even look at Ethan. "Just go sort yourself out. And get those reports on my desk. Honestly, the drama."

She dismissed him with a wave, already turning back to fawn over Chase, who was now suggesting a complete office redecoration.

Ethan stood there for a second, the cold coffee seeping into his skin, the pain in his ribs a dull throb. He was invisible. Or worse, a convenient target.