The terms

Chapter3

Ethan’s POV

I can set up another date,” Tami offered, her voice cautious, like she already knew where this was heading.

I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. “No. No don’t.”

The words came out sharper than I meant, but I didn’t take them back.

“This one was enough,” I muttered, sinking deeper into the driver’s seat like I could disappear into the leather. I stared out at the city lights, blurred through the windshield. The buzzing life outside felt far away.

“I don’t want worse than this, Tami,” I said quietly. “And if that’s what’s out there... then I’d rather not try again.”

She was silent on the other end. And maybe for the first time, she heard the exhaustion in my voice

I just need to clear my head, Tami.”

I rubbed my palm over the steering wheel, jaw tight.

“Alright,” she finally said. “Call me when you’re ready.”

I ended the call but didn’t move.

Didn’t drive. Didn’t breathe properly either.

Because clearing my head? That wasn’t the real problem.

The problem was… I need to show a wife to my Father! How do I pull this off?

I didn’t even turn the radio on. Just drove in silence.

The city blurred past in streaks of neon and brake lights, but I barely saw any of it. My grip on the wheel was loose, like even my body had given up holding things together.

I just needed to get home. Away from the noise.

The second I stepped through my front door, I didn’t bother turning on the lights. I kicked off my shoes, unbuttoned the shirt that still smelled like the overpriced cologne I’d worn for someone I couldn’t even connect with, and collapsed onto the couch.

The stillness wrapped around me like a blanket I hadn’t realized I needed.

Tonight was just exhausting

I didn’t want another date.

By morning, I was back in my routine.

Suit pressed, tie knotted, mask on.

Whatever happened last night, I filed it away. Tucked it behind That’s where it had to stay.

I slid behind the wheel, the city still yawning awake, headlights cutting through early fog. Then it happened, somewhere between the 6th and Marley. A low thump, followed by that familiar, dragging groan of rubber shredding against asphalt.

Flat tire.

I cursed under my breath, pulled over, and climbed out. My shoes met the gravel, my patience already thinning as I crouched beside the tire.

“Sorry!” a woman said quickly, clutching her to-go cup as it wobbled in her hand. She barely looked at me before hurrying, earbuds still in.

I blinked, thrown off for half a second.

Then I focused on tightening the hack.

There was something, just something about her…I couldn’t place it. Maybe it was the way she moved. The way she didn’t quite look at me, I shook it off, forcing myself to refocus.

The tire was fixed, but I stood there for a second, chest rising and falling, staring at the black rubber like it had just tried to ruin my life. Maybe it had. Maybe everything lately felt like a test I didn’t sign up for.

I dragged the back of my hand across my forehead, smearing dirt and sweat, then climbed into the car. The door slammed harder than it needed to. I didn’t care.

The engine growled to life beneath me, but it didn’t drown out the thoughts spiraling in my head my father’s voice echoing, the board’s ultimatum still ringing like a hammer in my skull. Get married or lose it all. As if a ring on my finger could prove I was capable. I gripped the wheel and leaned forward, eyes locked on the road, but my mind was already ten steps ahead at the office, I had barely stepped into my office when the soft knock came. Before I could respond, the door creaked open and she stepped in, poised, composed, as always.

"Hello, Ethan," Tami said, her voice smooth

I leaned against my desk, loosening my tie like it had personally betrayed me. I pointed a finger at her, dramatic as hell. “Tami. Please. For the love of all that is holy, never-ever set me up on that kind of date again.”

She blinked innocently, “Was she not your type?”

“Type?” I scoffed. “She ordered lobster, asked if I had a private jet, and spent half the night talking about how men have broken her heart and ‘trust issues.’” She now has

Tami tried to keep a straight face. I narrowed my eyes. “I barely made it out alive. I faked a business emergency just to escape.”

She raised a brow. “Did you?”

“Not. I sat through dessert like a hostage. But next time, I will fake an emergency. Don’t test me.”

Tami folded her arms, smirking like she’d been waiting all morning for this meltdown.

“Well, excuse me, Mr. Ethan,” she said, tilting her head. “Next time I’ll make sure she prefers cheap coffee, existential dread, and emotionally unavailable billionaires. That way, she’ll feel right at home with you.”

I stared at her. “Wow.”

She smiled sweetly. “You're welcome.”

I rubbed a hand over my face, trying not to laugh and failing. “You woke up and chose violence, huh?”

She shrugged. “You asked for a date. I delivered. Next time, be more specific like… human.

Tami gave me that look, and let out a sarcastic little laugh, low and theatrical.

“Well,” she said, turning on her heel, “I’ll go find someone who appreciates my matchmaking genius. Maybe the janitor. He looks single and less dramatic.” and not selective, so yeah.

Before I could fire back, she was already at the door.

“Oh, and Ethan?” she added, glancing over her shoulder with a wicked grin. “Next time, try not to look like you’re being waterboarded during dinner. It’s bad for your brand.”

The door clicked shut behind her, and I stood there… blinking. Did I just get roasted in my own office?

Yeah. Yeah, I did.