Chapter 150: Familiar Boy

She started answering immediately. She broke the crisis down by priority, listing what she would handle first, what could wait and what absolutely could not.

The missing witness came first.

She would confirm whether the disappearance was voluntary, accidental or something more serious, start tracing all known contacts and movements, notify the necessary people without causing unnecessary panic and document every attempt made to locate them.

Then came the discovery. Six hundred pages dropped at four-thirty on a Friday.

She would organize it, separate new material from what had already been disclosed, flag anything that affected trial strategy and identify whatever needed Dorian’s attention before Monday. She was halfway through explaining how she would restructure his weekend schedule when Dorian lifted a hand.

"Stop." Dorian leaned back in his chair. "You start Monday."

Her eyes widened slightly. She was the closest thing to Adrian he had found all morning, and at this point, Dorian was not interested in looking a gift horse in the mouth. "Thank you, Mr. Heathcliffe."

He nodded.

She gathered her things, thanked him again and left.

Finally.

Dorian closed his laptop. He was done.

Completely done.

He had barely started clearing the desk when another woman appeared in the doorway.

"Excuse me. I was directed from reception for an interview."

"I just had the last applicant."

"If you would just—"

"That’s it, Miss." He didn’t even bother sitting back down.

Whatever administrative disaster had put her on the wrong side of his schedule was no longer his problem.

Dorian grabbed his laptop bag.

Then his now very empty lunchbox.

He locked his office and walked past the floor, still thinking about the same thing he had worried about that morning.

Everyone was going to tease him for carrying a lunchbox into work. Except not one person cared. Truthfully, some people would probably choose a homemade lunch over restaurant food any day.

He left the building and started the drive home.

Before heading straight there, however, he made one stop.

Dorian stood in the flower shop, staring at arrangements while trying to decide what exactly a husband bought his wife after she became internet-famous twice since she married him. He wasn’t sure how Naomi would feel after the forum clip aired.

Flowers usually seemed to do something right. So he bought them. By the time he reached the townhouse, the bouquet sat beside him in the car.

Dorian slowed as he approached the garage.

Someone was standing outside. A familiar figure.

Tall.

Lanky.

Hands shoved into his pockets. A school bag hanging from one arm.

Dorian’s brows drew together as he pulled closer. He knew that boy.

What was he doing there?

Dorian pulled into the driveway and parked, eyes still on the boy standing near the garage. He got out slowly. "Ethan?"

Ethan immediately took a couple of steps back when he realized it wasn’t Naomi getting out of the car.

Dorian stopped. He remembered enough about the boy so he stayed where he was and gave him space. "Is everything all right?"

Ethan looked down at the ground. "Naomi..."

"Oh. Uh... she did say she’d be staying late today. I can call her if you want."

"I called. She’s not picking."

"Ethan, is this an emergency?"

The boy shook his head.

Still looking down.

"But you need to see her?"

Ethan nodded.

Whatever this was, the boy had come all the way here alone looking for Naomi.

Dorian wasn’t about to send him away. "I can get you to the restaurant." He gestured toward the car. "Would you want me to do that?"

The boy didn’t answer immediately.

Dorian added, "You can sit in the back seat."

That seemed to help.

Ethan’s eyes moved toward the Mercedes. He still looked uncertain, but at least he hadn’t backed away again.

Dorian reached into his pocket. "Just let me try to call her, okay?" He pulled out his phone and dialed Naomi.

No answer.

He frowned. "Hmm." He ended the call and looked at Ethan again. "Yeah. She’s not picking." Dorian thought for a second. He could drive Ethan straight there and leave.

But something about the kid’s posture told him this wasn’t exactly the kind of conversation he wanted to have while standing outside a restaurant entrance.

"Would you like an early dinner?" Dorian shrugged. "I could use some dinner. And since Naomi is apparently ignoring everyone today, we might as well make her work for it. We could have dinner at the restaurant. Have Naomi personally serve us."

A tiny flicker crossed Ethan’s face.

Dorian decided to push his luck. "Mess with her a little bit?" He nodded toward the car again. "No pressure. If you’d rather wait here, that’s fine too."

Ethan nodded.

Dorian unlocked the car and opened the back door for him, then immediately stepped away. "Come on, get in."

Ethan moved toward the car slowly, climbed into the back seat and pulled his school bag in with him.

Dorian deliberately left the door alone. He let Ethan close it himself.

Small thing, maybe, but Dorian had already noticed how quickly the boy stiffened whenever someone moved too close. The last thing he wanted was for Ethan to feel trapped inside a car with a man he barely knew.

Once Ethan had settled, Dorian got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. The drive to the restaurant was quiet.

Dorian did his best not to make it awkward.

Which, ironically, made him painfully aware of every second of silence.

He kept conversation to a minimum, only saying something when it felt necessary.

Ethan stared mostly out the window.

By the time they reached the restaurant, Dorian had decided that quiet was probably the kindest thing he could offer.

They stepped inside. Almost immediately, the attendant at the front gave them an apologetic smile.

"I’m sorry, sir. We’re fully booked."

Dorian looked around.

She was not exaggerating.

Every table was occupied. The entire restaurant seemed to be running at full speed.

Well.

That explained Naomi’s phone.

She was buried alive somewhere in the kitchen.

Dorian glanced at Ethan.

The boy had already started looking uncertain.

Leaving would mean taking Ethan somewhere else, and Dorian had the distinct feeling the boy had agreed to come because Naomi was supposed to be here.

Dorian sighed and stepped closer to the attendant. "The chef is my wife."