I have for years. It's easier than risking getting hurt. Ethan pulled into an empty parking lot overlooking Elliot Bay, killed the engine, and turned to face her. What changed? You did, showing up on that rainy road, fixing my car without wanting anything, looking at me like I'm just Vivien, not Heart Industries.
She unbuckled her seat belt and shifted closer. I'm terrified of this, Ethan. Of us, because if I let myself care about you and it doesn't work out, I don't know how to come back from that. Join the club. I'm terrified, too.
Of what? That Marcus is right. That you're going to wake up one day and realize you can do better than a broke mechanic who can barely keep his shop open. Is that what you think? That this is about charity?
Isn't it? You're offering me contracts, buying me suits, loaning you money for a suit, and the contract is business, not charity? Morrison would have told me if your shop couldn't handle the work. She cupped his face with both hands. I'm not trying to fix you, Ethan.
I'm trying to be with you. There's a difference. What if I screw this up? What if I'm not enough? Then we'll deal with it.
But I'm tired of being afraid of what might happen. I want to try with you. He kissed her then, tasting champagne and lipstick and the kind of honesty that only came from people who'd stopped pretending. When they finally pulled apart, both breathing hard, Viven was smiling. "Take me home," she said.
Your place or mine? Mine. I want you to see where I actually live, not just where I work. She directed him to a high-rise in Belltown, one of those glass and steel towers that scraped the Seattle sky. The parking garage was all concrete and security cameras, and Ethan felt distinctly out of place parking the Jaguar between a Tesla and a Porsche.
The elevator required a key card to access the penthouse level. They rode up in silence, Vivien leaning against him, her head on his shoulder. Fair warning, she said as the doors opened directly into her apartment. "It's not exactly homey. " "That was an understatement. The penthouse was all floor toseeiling windows and modern furniture that looked expensive and uncomfortable.
The view of Seattle's skyline was stunning, but the space felt cold, unlived in. " "You're right," Ethan said. "This isn't homey. I'm never here long enough to make it homey. I sleep, shower, change clothes, and go back to work. She walked to the windows, looking out at the city.
I bought it because my realtor said it was a good investment. I've lived here 3 years, and I still don't know my neighbors. Ethan joined her at the window. That's depressing. I know.
You should get plants or something. Art on the walls. Maybe some photos. I have art. It came with the staging when I bought the place.