You don't know what you're talking about. I know exactly what I'm talking about. I know cars. And when an engine is making noise, it's usually because something's broken and trying to compensate. That's you.
Broken and loud. Several nearby couples had stopped dancing to watch. Marcus's face was turning red. You're comparing me to a broken engine? Yeah, specifically a blown head gasket.
All noise, no substance, and expensive to fix. Ethan stepped closer, still holding Viven's hand. She's not a project or a charity case or whatever narrative you're selling yourself. She's a person who actually gives a damn about the people in her life. And if you couldn't see that when you had her, that's your failure, not hers. " Marcus looked like he was about to say something, then apparently thought better of it.
He turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd with whatever dignity he had left. Ethan turned back to Viven, who was staring at him with wide eyes. "Did you just compare my ex-boyfriend to a blown head gasket? " It was the best metaphor I could think of on short notice. She started laughing. Real helpless laughter that made several people glance over.
That was the most absurd thing I've ever heard. But it worked. It absolutely worked. She pulled him close, not dancing anymore, just holding him. Thank you for that, for defending me.
He was being an. He was, but most people just let him talk. You actually shut him down. They stood there on the dance floor, other couples swaying around them. And Ethan realized something.
Marcus' words had gotten under his skin because part of him believed them. But watching Viven laugh, feeling her relax against him, he understood that the fear was his, not hers. She wasn't trying to fix him. She was just trying to be with him. "Can we leave? " Vivian asked quietly.
"I know it's early, but I've smiled at enough people for one night. Please, I've been ready to leave since we got here. " They collected their coats and slipped out through a side entrance, avoiding the main crowd. The valet brought the Jaguar around, and Ethan tipped him with the last of his cash before sliding into the driver's seat. "Where, too? " he asked. "Anywhere but here. " He drove aimlessly through Seattle's downtown streets, the city lights reflecting off rain sllicked pavement.
Viven had kicked off her heels and was sitting sideways in the passenger seat, watching him with an expression he couldn't quite read. "You're quiet," he said. "I'm thinking about about how you just humiliated Marcus Wellington in front of half of Seattle's business elite using a car metaphor. Was that bad? I probably shouldn't have.
It was perfect. She reached over and took his hand. Nobody's ever stood up for me like that before. Really? You're Viven Hart.
You have lawyers and bodyguards, and I have people who protect my business interests. That's different from someone protecting me. She squeezed his hand. Marcus was right about one thing. I do choose work over relationships.