“You do know how to message right?”
“This is quicker and I’m driving,” Sebastian replied, also ignoring the need for a greeting.
“Can I ask you something about Cooper?” Leaning against the now closed door of the office, I didn’t bother with the preamble. He would only see straight through me anyway.
“Yeah.” His answer was curt, almost tinged with unease and I too was apprehensive. I hadn’t so much as seen Coop since we arrived hours earlier, yet I could feel his presence as if I was still wrapped around him. The edge of need lingering despite the closed door separating me from anyone on the distillery floor.
“Do he and Preston ever fight, not just arguing but like physically?” I bit the inside of my lip, nervous for whatever the answer was.
“Do Cooper and his dad ever fight?” He repeated, as if the idea was absurd.
“Yes!” I said, my voice unusually high. “I know it sounds weird but we both know how much of a prick Preston is. And Cooper was out super late last night and now he has cuts and bruises all over his face. I figured maybe he went to see his parents.”
Seb was silent long enough that I called his name to check he was still there and was met with a deep sigh.
“As far as I’m aware, he and his dad have never had a physical fight.” I knew the second he finished speaking that he was being evasive. Almost as though he was mulling over how to answer my question without lying, but also not revealing what he did know.
“Do you know who he fought then?” I asked deliberately. My brother wouldn’t lie, but I also knew there were only a few people who would make him second guess oversharing with me and one of them was my painfully moody boss.
“No.” He stated apprehensively.
“Sebastian, cut the literal answers. What happened to Cooper’s face? Who was he fighting? And why was he fighting?” God, there were so many unanswered questions, I was starting to feel nauseous.
“Evangeline,” he sighed, and I could almost picture his deep stare of frustration. “I can’t answer that.”
“Can’t or won’t?” I gritted, already knowing the answer.
“Why don’t you just ask him?” He said, an edge of curiosity in his voice.
“Because he woke up this morning like a bear with a sore head. You know, your friend is as moody as you are and it’s starting to piss me off.” I was now pacing the small office, occasionally peeking through the glass window to make sure no one could overhear my conversation. The last thing I needed was the man in question thinking I was prying into his business. Which I most certainly was but didn’t need him knowing.
“Baked dinner of 2010 mad?” His laughter filled my ear eliciting one of my own.
“Almost,” I remembered, “But I was mad at both of you then.”
“Wow.”
“So, you’re really not going to answer me, huh?”
“Look, I’d tell you more, but it’s not my place. He’s a good guy, but sometimes he gets into a dark space, and he isn’t the easiest to be around.” I was hanging on every word, desperate for more but scared to interject for fear he would stop.
“I probably should have told you before you moved in, but if you notice he is starting to retreat into himself, just let me know, okay?”
I nodded, my mind swirling.
“Eva?”
“Oh, sorry. Yeah, yeah, I will.” I replied, feeling as though this conversation had given me more questions than answers. “Although I have no idea what that means and I am still no closer to knowing why he has a black eye.”
“Are you at Golden Spades?” He asked.
“Yes,” I sighed, “I think I’ll be here all night at this rate.” I added wearily, looking at the large pile of documents I planned to work through today.
“Good. I’m coming in and I’m bringing lunch.”
By the time the door to the office finally opened, I’d been back at the books for almost another hour, stopping only to make another tea not even five minutes ago. The space was finally sorted, the files which had once haphazardly encased every visible surface were now organised into specific accounts and actions. There was still plenty to be done, starting with a forensic examination of the more detailed documentation, because from the brief analysis I had conducted, something seemed amiss. The numbersjust weren’t adding up although without enough proof, I wasn’t going to mention anything just yet.
“Hey, Sebby,” I said, stretching my neck before greeting him with a hug.
