The Marvelous Ethan Cole

Chapter 5

The phone hit the bar top and shattered into pieces, plastic and glass scattering across the polished wood.

“You bastard!” The man's voice filled the room, bouncing off the low ceiling. 

“Who the hell do you think you are? Threatening me? You must have a death wish!”

Daniel stood with his fists clenched, his chest heaving. The woman draped across his lap shifted slightly, her fingers moving in small circles on his shoulder, trying to calm him.

“Baby, what happened?” Her voice came out soft, careful. 

“Who was—”

The slap caught her across the cheek before she could finish.

Her head snapped to the side and she froze, one hand rising slowly to her face. The room went completely silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioning.

“Did I ask you to speak?” Daniel's voice was low now, dangerous. “Did I?”

She shook her head quickly, tears already forming.

“Get out.” He pointed at the door. “Now.”

She scrambled off his lap, grabbing her purse and shoes, not bothering to put them on, just clutching them against her chest as she hurried toward the exit. The door clicked shut behind her.

Brother Daniel stood alone in the center of the room, breathing hard. His jaw worked back and forth. Something about that phone call had crawled under his skin and refused to leave. The voice on the other end had been too calm. Too sure, well that wasn't a problem now he needs to back to the party.

**

The banquet hall glowed with warm light from the chandeliers overhead, casting everything in shades of gold and amber. Long tables stretched across the room, set with white linens and silver cutlery that caught the light every time someone moved. The air smelled like roasted meat and expensive wine. Voices filled the space, low and comfortable, the kind of conversation that comes easy when everyone in the room already knows they belong.

This was a family affair. No outsiders. No business partners or distant acquaintances padding the guest list. Just blood, and the people who had married into it.

Victoria Hargrove sat near the center of the room, her hands folded in her lap, her back straight. She was beautiful in the way that made people look twice without meaning to, the kind of face that belonged on magazine covers or in paintings that hung in museums. Dark hair pulled back. Dark eyes that didn't give much away. A black dress that was elegant without trying to be.

She wasn't speaking to anyone.

Across from her, her cousin Daniel leaned back in his chair, one arm draped over the back of the seat next to him, a glass of whiskey in his other hand. He was talking to someone but his eyes kept drifting to the entrance, checking the door every few seconds like he was expecting someone.

“By the way,” Daniel said suddenly, loud enough that a few people nearby turned to look, “where's your husband, Vicky?”

The room didn't go quiet, not completely, but the conversations nearest to them tapered off. A few heads turned.

Victoria looked at him without expression. “His name is Ethan.”

“Right. Ethan.” Daniel grinned. “Where is he?”

She didn't answer.

An older man two seats down, Victoria's uncle Richard, set his glass down and looked at Daniel. "Why would he be here?”

Daniel shrugged. 

“I don't know. I just figured maybe someone invited him.”

“This is a family event,” Richard said. His voice was flat, the kind of tone that didn't leave room for interpretation. 

“He's not family.”

“But he married into it,” someone else said. A younger woman, one of the cousins whose name Victoria could never quite remember. “Doesn't that count?”

“No.” Richard didn't even look at her when he said it. “It doesn't.”

A few people laughed quietly.

Victoria's jaw tightened but she didn't say anything.

Daniel leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. 

“I mean, let's be honest. The guy runs a restaurant. A family diner that his grandfather ran, and his great-grandfather before that. He's got grease under his fingernails and he smells like fried food half the time. What's he going to do here? Serve appetizers?”

More laughter. Louder this time.

“Daniel.” Victoria's voice cut through the noise, sharp and cold. “That's enough.”

He held up both hands in mock surrender. “I'm just saying what everyone's thinking.”

“No,” she said. “You're saying what you're thinking. Don't put that on everyone else.”

Her uncle Richard sighed and picked up his glass again. 

“Victoria, the boy has no place here. You know that. We all know that. Your grandfather may have approved the marriage, God rest his soul, but that doesn't mean we have to pretend the man is something he's not.”

“He approved it for a reason,” Victoria said.

“Did he?”  Richard raised an eyebrow. “Or did he approve it because he was old and tired and wanted to see you settled before he passed?”

She didn't have an answer for that.

“The man is a freeloader,” Daniel said, his grin widening. 

“He married up and now he gets to live in a nice house and eat good food and pretend he's something more than a line cook with a high school diploma.”

“He owns the restaurant,” Victoria said tightly.

“Barely.” Daniel laughed, however he knows Ethan must be begging and been dealt with as they speak, how he still didn't understand who call him earlier, it wasn't sounding like Ethan, and theirs no way Ethan would defeat does men.

“That place is falling apart. I've seen it. The paint's peeling off the walls and half the chairs don't match. It's a dump.”

“It's been in his family for generations.”

“Yeah, and they've all been failures.” Daniel leaned back again, looking pleased with himself. “Every single one of them. Just like him.”

Victoria stood up.

The room went quiet.

She looked at Daniel for a long moment, then at her uncle, then at the others sitting nearby who had been listening without saying a word.

“You all disgust me,” she said quietly.

Then she turned and walked toward the entrance.

She made it three steps before the door opened and Ethan walked in.