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I groan, pretending to be hurt. “So my sister gets to have lunch with you, and I can’t.”
“Stop whining and I might just make it up to you tonight,” she says with a wink.
“I love the sound of that.” I’m now grinning from ear to ear like a schoolboy.
Jessy rolls her eyes in mock exasperation, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You’re impossible, Ethan,” she teases.
As she turns to leave my office, I can’t help but watch her go, a sense of longing stirring within me.
While I’m preparing to leave for lunch, Amy saunters into my office, dressed in Gucci shorts and a crop top, with sneakers to match.
“Let me guess, you are here for your lunch date with Jessy?” I say, shifting my attention back to the screen of my computer.
“Yes, you guessed correctly. And I’m here to get your card—debit or credit. Either will do.”
I look up from the computer. “I’m sorry, why?”
She throws her hands open. “What do you mean, why? I’m going to have lunch with your girlfriend. I need your card,” she stretches out a hand. “Hand it over.”
I fish out my wallet, take out one of my American Express cards and hand it to her.
“See, that wasn’t too hard.” She snatches the card from my fingers and slips it into her purse.
“I’m so happy that you’ve finally decided to follow your heart. I’m so happy for you and Jessy.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes at her theatricality, but a part of me secretly appreciates her enthusiasm. “Thanks, Amy,” I say, offering her a grateful smile. “It means a lot to me.”
But Amy isn’t finished yet. “You know, Mom’s already planning your wedding in her head,” she continues with a laugh, leaning back in her chair as she gestures animatedly. “She’s been talking about flower arrangements and seating charts for days now. I think she’s more excited than you are!”
I chuckle at the mental image of my mother getting ahead of herself, her excitement palpable even from a distance. “Well, tell Mom to hold her horses,” I reply with a grin. “Jessy and I are just taking things one step at a time.”
Amy nods in understanding, her expression softening with affection. “You will have to tell her that yourself. I would be surprised if she hasn’t booked a hall for the wedding already. You know how Mom can be.”
“I guess she will be disappointed to know that Jessy and I are taking things slow.”
The dimly lit ambiance of the bar envelops us as we settle into our usual booth, the faint scent of whiskey lingering in the air, mingling with the chatter of patrons and the clinking of glasses. Drake and I exchange greetings with the bartender before turning our attention to the menu and scanning the list of drinks with interest.
“So, how’s life treating you, Ethan?” Drake asks, taking a sip of his beer as he leans back against the plush cushion of the booth. “You seem a bit preoccupied tonight.”
I let out a sigh, running a hand through my hair as I try to put my thoughts into words. “Honestly, Drake, I’m a bit worried about something,” I admit, my gaze flickering towards the swirling patterns of condensation on my glass. “It’s about Jessy.”
Drake raises an eyebrow, a curious expression as he leans in closer. “What about her? Is everything okay?”
I take a moment to gather my thoughts before responding, the weight of my concerns weighing heavily on my mind. “It’s just...she doesn’t know the full extent of who I am,” I explain, my voice tinged with uncertainty. “She sees me as her boss, but she doesn’t know I am the CEO, about my family’s influence, or the extent of my wealth. And I’m worried that it’ll change things between us if she finds out.”
Drake nods in understanding, and his expression is sympathetic as he listens intently to my words. “I get where you’re coming from, Ethan,” he says, his voice low and reassuring. “But keeping secrets from someone you care about isn’t the answer. Eventually, the truth will come out, and it’s better to be upfront about it from the start.”
I furrow my brow, the weight of Drake’s words sinking in as I consider his advice.
“I know you’re right, Drake,” I admit, feeling a sense of unease settle in the pit of my stomach. “I should have told her, but I didn’t want things to change between us. She makes me feel...different, you know? And I’m scared that when she finds out the truth, she won’t see me the same way anymore.”
Drake reaches out to place a comforting hand on my shoulder, his gaze steady and reassuring. “I understand your concerns, man,” he says, his voice firm yet gentle. “But any relationship built on deceit doesn’t last. If Jessy cares about you as much as you say she does, she’ll understand and accept you for who you are, regardless of your background.”
As we continue our conversation over drinks, the familiar buzz of the bar fades into the background, replaced by a sense of clarity and determination. I need to tell Jessy the truth.
33
Jessica
