Chapter Text
Becca spent the beginning hours of her day off cleaning the apartment bathroom. A decision made on impulse and sheer boredom since waking up just after sunrise with the rest of her friends.
She was scrubbing the last remnants of bleach from the shower tiles still, at noon, when there was a knock on her apartment door. Fumbling to slip into something moderately decent and shuffling her way to the door, she finds a courier stood unimpressed with an envelope and a small white box.
“Delivery for Dr. Lao,” he reads off his handheld blandly.
Becca pulled her robe tightly around her, “That’s me.”
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The young man handed her the parcels with one hand and the screen on the handheld with the other for her to sign for. With a tap of a stylus and a click of the door, when Becca was well and truly alone once more, she placed the unsuspecting package on the kitchen counter. Brows furrowed and trying to figure out where this weird present has come from. She hadn’t impulsively ordered anything in weeks and it was a few months too early for her aunt to be shipping her any presents.
Fingers itching, and really nothing but curiosity to lose, Becca tore open the stark white envelope.
The embossed card read:
Rookie,
That dress deserves a night out.
Pick you up at 6pm.
***
After some skilled Google sleuthing Becca surmised that he was taking her out. A public outing. Even if it is a masquerade event at the Boston Opera House.
At promptly six o'clock in the evening, Becca slinked out of her apartment before Aurora could ask any questions. Her heels soundlessly trailing along the old '90s carpet to the complex door. A smile pulls at the corners of her lips as she sees her date front and center through the glass window.
Ethan's stood in a tux on the curb idly in front of his sedan, blue eyes scorching every patch of her skin on display. And maybe, just a sliver of a possibility that Becca feels the heat of his gaze and decides to saunter; walks a little slower, taking longer steps that sway her hips to the rhythm of his heartbeats.
“You’re right," his deep voice concedes. "That dress is impeccable."
His eyes meet hers for the first time this evening. Ethan side steps just enough to open the passenger side door.
“I have so many questions," Becca says through her smile.
Ethan raised an eyebrow, more out of habit than anything. “You can ask them while I drive.”
As soon as the key was in the ignition and seatbelts were fastened, Becca asked the most pressing question that has plagued her mind the entire three hours it took her to get ready.
“How’d you pull this off in under 12 hours?"
“What do you mean?"
“Hot date. Mask that literally matches my dress perfectly."
“It’s an annual members event at the Opera house. This year is masquerade themed. I wasn’t planning on going but…"
“But you wanted to see me in this dress."
He shook his head, a delightfully rueful smirk giving him away.
***
Becca couldn't help but think about the last time she was in this box. Ethan was kissing her, pinned her up against the upholstered railing with hands holding on for dear life. He told her 'it’s complicated' - and not much has changed. Though now their feelings weren’t complicated, they wholly belonged to the other in spirit. In practice, they were still close friends. Friends who were definitely more than in the privacy of Ethan's apartment.
“You look amazing tonight," he reiterates, interrupting her reverie with hands curling around her waist.
“You’re not half bad yourself." Becca turns just enough to face him, flicking the programme between her fingertips. "Is this in English?"
Ethan shook his head. “Danish.”
“You speak Danish!?"
She's rewarded to the warmest smile; the one's that accompany a twinkle in his eye and Becca swears makes her heat skip a beat.
“No." It's the almost-scoff, the jovial sound that turns the word into two syllables, that reminds her how endeared he is to her. She could go on countless amazing dates with any other men, but they wouldn't be half as fulfilling as doing nothing but making Ethan Ramsey smile.
Becca steps back considering his words. “Then let's make sure to keep perfect attention, Dr. Ramsey."
They both know that her words were hollow, even without the accompanying wink.
***
Intermission came, and instead of spending the thirty minutes doing nefarious things on every velvet-covered surface of his box, Ethan and Becca wandered down to the members bar.
They were engaged in a very serious discussion about the patronage of an event such as this, and Becca's comments on the antique lampshades that look like stoned squids sat atop the sconces, when an unfurling voice cut through their silly conversation.
“Ethan," the older gentleman boomed, his hand slicing through their conversation to reach for a handshake.
“Teddy," Ethan acknowledged with a limp shake of his wrist.
“All these years I’ve never seen you at a single event," Teddy smiles that of a Cheshire cat. His beaty eyes moving from Ethan to Becca to Ethan's pocket square the same shade as her dress, and back to a still-masked Becca (a choice she is more than glad she chose to don when leaving the box, in the spirit of the event and all).
“Yes, well my job is demanding." Ethan removes his hand and subtly wipes it against the back of his trousers. His feet shuffle slightly to his right, closer to the bar than towards Becca.
Teddy didn't even notice the sober look of panic flash across Ethan's face as the man's eyes landed on Becca. “Who’s this lovely lady?"
Ted's hand went to reach for Becca's, but before it could make much movement, the blonde woman leagues younger than her partner wrapped her arm around his. “Oh Ted, leave him alone, he's on a date," she cooed.
But the looks didn't leave. If anything they were more intent. Ethan's concealed panic, stormy eyes looking for any ounce of recognition in Ted's features, while Ted and the woman were waiting on Becca like two patrons at a zoo waiting for the parrot on display to speak.
“Caroline," she says. Her shoulders held up higher and back just a bit straighter. "Nice to meet you…?"
“Teddy Hutch," he smiles wickedly, like a man with far too much endowment. "I work with Dr. Ramsey here. I’m on Edenbrook's legal team."
“Oh."
Whatever would have happened next - whether Teddy would ask her about her career or how she knows Ethan, or whether the couple would have seen Becca turn towards Ethan with fear rooted in her eyes, or whether Ethan would have jumped in with an anecdote to pull the conversation elsewhere - is thrown off course because the blonde tugs further on Teddy's arm.
“That’s enough badgering honey."
“Enjoy the show," Teddy bids adieu as he saunters away.
Fifteen seconds pass. Both Ethan and Becca's attention fixed on the retreating forms of a close encounter.
When the bell rings to return to their seats and the pair are sure there's no one else of note around to eavesdrop on their conversation, Ethan breaks their silence with furrowed brows.
“Caroline?"
Becca shrugs. “Not a big fan of Carolina."
Ethan's unwavering stare and wrinkled forehead keep her talking. "My middle name. Rebecca Carolina Lao. Caroline sounds more dignified."
He nods without finding fault in her rationale. They begin the walk back up the small staircase to their box hand-in-hand.
“How’d you know?" he asked lowly and leaning down for just her ears.
“I’ve seen him coming and going from the administration floor. Figured you didn’t want anyone seeing us together."
The hold on her hand tightens. And it's okay. Neither of them want anyone to know - to burst their bubble just yet.
The air around them is somber and so not what it was before.
“Who’s your alter ego?" she asks.
“What?"
“In the mask. We’ve established mine’s Caroline, who’s yours?"
“I will never be anyone other than Ethan."
She shot him a very raised, very critical eyebrow. Silently calling him out for killing the fun.
Ethan sighs, loud and dramatic and just because he likes to niggle her. “I guess I could be Jonah."
“Caroline and Jonah out on the town!” she laced her fingers with his and tugged him close. Close enough that with just one nudge, a lift of the tips of her toes, their noses would brush and she could kiss him right here at the top of the stairs.
Ethan feels it too. “Rook-" he warns.
“Caroline doesn’t work at Edenbrook."
“That’s not how this works."
“It’s exactly how roleplay works."
There, two doors down from Ethan's private box in the member's wing of the Boston Opera House, Jonah Ramsey and Caroline Lao share a kiss for any wandering eyes to witness.