The Far-a-way Girl

2. Finding Ethan

Franka smiles my way, and I squeeze past the paisley shirt guy, a little self-conscious as I walk across the circle and deliver her plate. Olly peers over her shoulder and pinches a kebab off the other plate. I shift it away, reserving the last of the food for this Ethan person. There are four other guys here, four potential Ethan's...   

"Abby sent you?" Franka asks.

"Yep. I've been put on vegetarian duties." And a set up. 

"You realise this is a party, right? Put down that food and relax. You look tense."

I am tense. "First I have to deliver this..." I hold up the plate, only to have the guy beside her steal a falafel. "Hey!" I snap at him.

He snorts as he chews. "You're pretty protective over that food, darlin'. I don't see anybody's name on it."

He might be a handsome food thief with his dark hair that tapers around his cheekbones and his rock star looks, but he is so cocky that I want to throw the plate at him. "This food does have a name on it, actually."

"Oh, yeah? Mine?"

"No." Okay, that was a little presumptive on my part. "Your name's not Ethan, is it?"

He grins. "I'm your guy!"

Good god. I am an idiot.

I pass him the plate.

His fingers twitch over each kebab, deciding which one to choose next. "Did you make these? They look amazing."

"Yep. Took me two hours to prepare, in case you're wondering."

"Shit. All for me?" he says, looking sheepish.

"And for Franka. Abby volunteered me for the job." I wish I'd never asked if I should bring something. She probably planned this days ago when she assigned me vegetarian food so I would have an excuse to meet him.

I'm a little shocked when Franka slaps him lightly on the back of his head. "Hey, Kade, don't even think about eating that. You know Ethan and I have been waiting all afternoon for something to eat. Put that down now!"

That cheeky, conniving imposter... It makes sense that this was the guy they wanted to strip. He has no limits. And he plays on the fact that he is gorgeous. No, he is not gorgeous. If I was painting him in a book he'd be a scoundrel at best.

"You ate the 'slaw," he says to Franka. "I saw you."

She screws up her nose. "One mouthful. You go eat the slimy coleslaw. Ten bucks if you stomach the whole bowl."

"Fifty and we have a bet."

"You're not Ethan?" I say, closing in on this Kade character.

He smiles sweetly. "I could be. Or you can call me Kade. I'm easy."

"I'm sure you are." I hold out my hand for the tray, but he looks reluctant to pass it over.

That's it. I give up. I'm about to walk away when he calls out, "Food delivery for you, Ethan!"

Somewhere behind me a guy grunts, then answers his phone, "Ethan speaking. No, the gig starts at nine. No, it will finish late. Chloe, we've talked about this—"

I'm about to turn to the real Ethan when Kade asks, "Can I at least have another falafel?"

"Oh, fine," I say, as he relinquishes the tray into my care and pinches a fried green ball. What can I say? He's warming on me.

"Can I have your phone number while I'm at it?"

"Ah, no."

"What if I get hungry in the middle of the night?"