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11
Ethan waved to the photographers at front. He’d taken pictures with Kyle, with his opening team, and now, a couple of them wanted individual shots. He’d give them whatever they wanted.
Tonight, it was happening.
A success.
The celebrities, local politicians, influencers and VIP guests had arrived, and milled around the area. Bright lights flooded around, and the hired band—a popular rock band—played in one of the indoor venues.
All night, he’d been shaking hands and networking. He knew some of those contacts would come particularly handy when he opened his consultant business. This complex would be a game changer for him.
His kids were home with Lydia, who once more had agreed to watch them.
Tonight, Poppy would be doing a live podcast in her soundproof booth. He hadn’t checked with her in a couple hours, but last he saw, she was getting ready inside. After tonight, he’d tell her how he felt. All would be good, he hoped.
The previous night, at the hotel, he felt it when she was going to tell him something important. But at the end, she didn’t—and this meant he had to be the first one to do it.
She’d have her career, and maybe she would agree to a relationship with him, without the weight of their previous stipulations. He’d seen her with the kids—she cared deeply for them. He could have been blind to a lot of things before, with Darcy, but Poppy was different.
Pride swelled in his chest.
He walked up to the booth, but instead of Poppy, he found a woman in her twenties, with short hair and a rose neck tattoo. She was reading something on her phone.
He knocked on the door. Maybe she knew where Poppy was—maybe Poppy was working with her, or interviewing her. He’d thought Poppy would mention these small details, but then again, his head had been crowded with information about tonight.
She opened it. “Can I help you?”
“Yes. Hmm… Do you know where Poppy is?”
She squinted. “Who’s Poppy?”
“Poppy Jones, the podcaster who was supposed to go live tonight.”
The woman shrugged. “Oh, her. Roy made a last minute change, and she’s off the schedule tonight.”
“What?” he asked, irritation crawling under his skin. He wasn’t an idiot… Roy had done this out of spite. He never seemed happy about him hiring Poppy without his knowledge and approval—even after the legal department didn’t find any problem. He’d been quiet, and Ethan assumed that he was cool with it. The bastard was just laying low. He curled his fingers into a ball. “Where is Poppy?”
“I don’t know.”
He shut the door, and fished his phone from his pocket. He saw a bunch of missed calls from Poppy, which he assumed he missed because of the noise in the area. Before he talked to her though, he needed to talk to the person who had fucked this up. Roy.
He stalked the area, in long strides, remembering the last place he’d seen him—by the open bar. And he walked over, to find Roy tapping someone on the back. He approached him, and Roy must have sensed his mood, because he said goodbye to the guy he talked to and walked up to him. “Why did you kick Poppy off?”
“It was a change of heart. As the head of marketing, I’m entitled. I didn’t think she embodied all the characteristics I wanted to for our opening night,” he said, in a condescending tone that probably annoyed the people who worked under him and had to deal with him.
Ethan shook his head. Idiot, he was not. “And you didn’t think to tell me sooner?”
“Why? So you could have a hissy fit over it?”
“Why the fuck are you so set on not giving her a chance?” Ethan asked.
“Like you have?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not an idiot, man. She’s your kid’s nanny. And God knows what else.”
Ethan glanced around, making sure no one paid attention to their heated conversation. Thankfully, the crowd was more interested in getting free drinks, talking and watching the entertainers in stilts do tricks. “What does that have to do with anything?”
