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“No, Gwen.”
She tilted her head with a smile, her voice reducing like she wanted to be serious.
“Sophie spoke. And no matter how Ethan denies it, I can see the hint of happiness in his eyes,” she breathed. “Evie, you restored two things that have been absent from his life for a long time.”
Yeah. I’m the therapist. That’s my job.
“I’m a therapist, Gwen.”
She softly cupped my hand on the table.
“My brother’s a dwib, and I know he’s going to fuck this up a couple of times, but I hope you can be patient to realize that he needs you as more than just a therapist.”
No. Gwen didn’t understand what was at stake. She didn’t even understand anything.
What we both needed was how to atone for our sins.
“I’m returning to Australia first thing tomorrow morning, Evie. Thank you for being a friend here.”
twenty-five
Ethan
I stared at the tabloid headlines for the umpteenth time this morning.
I shouldn’t be surprised that the media had done their thing. In fact, I should have expected it.
They’d been starved of my gist for so long. It was only logical for them to cling to the next thing they saw and make a scandal out of it.
The images stared back at me.
My hands were on the small part of her back. They’d coined the gentlemanly act into something else.
Evie wasn’t too pleased with the situation.
There’s trouble, Ethan.
The worry was clearly etched in her eyes. It wasn’t baseless.
Her professional image was at stake.
I didn’t know if her dream academy was directly against issues like this, but it was best to be safe. All she wanted was to be safe.
And I would make sure I gave her that.
It was the least I could do. I couldn’t let her be collateral damage.
Without wasting more time, I nudged the telephone closer before dialing the appropriate teams. I'd told them to work on taking the news down that same night.
“Good morning, si—”
“My office, now,” I interrupted. I was probably being irrational but there was nothing good about the morning if the news was still circulating.
After ending the call with my PR manager, Whitney, I dialed the digital media strategist, Alex.
“My office now.”
I slammed the telephone back in place, running a hand down my face as I leaned into the chair.
