Fate (Chapter 7, page 2 of 4)

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Chapter 7

Checking, it wasn't her clock radio that emitted the nauseatingly if somewhat muffled chirpy voices of a pair of breakfast DJ's. Then she remembered that her bedroom was next to the master suite. It would explain how Ethan had been up, dressed, breakfasted and ready to go to work so early yesterday.

One thing was clear she wasn't an early riser.

Maybe she was expected to be. Ethan had made it clear the day before she could sleep in but Darlene had obviously been up well before then, breakfast ready and waiting. It would be bad manners if she lolled in bed while the rest of the household waited.

Still first things first. Her name. D. Only one sprung to mind, Debbie. Or in this part of town maybe she should be known as Deborah. No not her at all. So Debbie it was.

Debbie hastily dressed avoiding the clothes she hadn't chosen and scurried down the stairs hopeful that she wasn't too late to join Ethan at the breakfast table.

'No Darlene, I don't want anything.'

Darlene looked like she was about to argue but a stern look from Ethan brought her up short. Birthdays just reminded him of growing old a fact highlighted when he looked over his coffee mug at the 'teenager' that bounced into the breakfast room.

OK, so…she wasn't a teenager but probably not far past it. The simple shorts and t-shirt she wore, her face free of makeup, hair in a pony tail helped to emphasis the difference in their ages when he glanced down at his suit and tie.

She was way too young for him.



He recalled holding her in his arms last night and grimaced at his physical response despite her distress. He tried to ignore the stirrings that were thankfully hidden by the table. Shifting didn't ease the constriction in his pants and only served to make his breakfast sit uncomfortably in his stomach.

Her frown woke him to the fact that he was still frowning so he wiped his face clean of all emotion and waved his coffee mug inviting her to sit down.

'You're up early…'

'Debbie. So are you.'

'Ah, yes but I have to get to work.'

The frown returned.

Ethan didn't normally suffer from foot in mouth disease, his diplomacy often diffusing many worksite bombs. This girl though brought out his baser instincts and his tact suffered. Wasn't there a joke about God only giving men enough blood for either their brain or their penis?

'And you have to work at getting better.'

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