“Evan…”
“Listen, I’m happy for you and Chris, truly. You are clearly good for him, and he for you. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. The bachelor thing isn’t all that bad.”
“You’re a terrible liar for a lawyer.”
He dragged a hand down his face. “Lu, go find Chris and tell him to give my foundation a ton of money. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you dismissing me?”
“For my own sanity, yes.”
Amusement curled her lips into a smile, but she paused before passing through the doorway. “He looks at you with hearts in his eyes, Evan. I don’t know what happened on the island, but he’s still interested.”
“Lots of money, Lu. Tons.”
He waited for the click of the door before dropping his head onto the desk and letting some of the disappointment leak out. All 5’11 and a buck seventy of it. It was too heavy to carry alone.
chapter 37
. . .
“Where’s Evan?”
Heath frowned at both Isabella and Olivia. “You knew he’d be here.”
They had the decency to look guilty. “I swear I didn’t know when I asked you. Liv told me about the gala and said she wanted me to come, but I really don’t care for these things. Too stuffy.”
“So you dragged me into your personal hell?”
The guilt faded into ire with a jut of her hip. “Ithoughtmy good friend would make it bearable. Maybe even fun. I forgot he’s a sourpuss.”
“I’m not… I didn’t mean… Goddammit, this is a mess.”
Olivia wrapped her arm around his waist and led him toward one of the buffet tables. She and Isabella ordered some wine, and he got a seltzer that immediately reminded him of the private beach and therefore made him even more miserable.
“Do you want to talk?”
“Honestly? No, I’d kinda like to be alone for a minute.”
Isabella pointed to the large French doors lining the back ofthe room. “The balconies are open and have those torch things going, if you want to get some air.”
“I might take advantage of that, thank you. I’m sorry if I’m ruining your night.”
She grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. “You’re not. This is actually a very nice gala. Low-key. Olivia will keep me company until you’re feeling more social.”
That implied his desire to be alone would abate before the evening ended, when in fact he was sorely tempted to diminish into the west, never to be heard from again.
There were a smattering of people on the balconies when he investigated. Most were chatting or smoking. A couple were getting better acquainted. In the end, it wasn’t alone enough, so he walked the outskirts of the ballroom with his beverage, settling on a bench near the auction display.
Some lovely items had been donated. Art, jewelry, and a vacation package to Stout Rock. Who could that be from?
One item in particular had him standing up and approaching the glass case. A book. Specifically, a first editionHuckleberry Finnbound in leather.
He made a noise low in his throat, a sort of high-pitched, strangled wheeze that garnered concerned glances from the few people close enough to hear it. It took great effort to resist pressing his face right against the glass.
“I knew you’d home right in on that one.”
Christian. Heath straightened up and rolled his shoulders, reminding himself how angry and disappointed he was. How unmoved he would be by those puppy-dog brown eyes, and the way he bit his lip when he was discussing something that excited him.
