Evan finds me, two drinks in hand. “I can't believe you talked him into a signature cocktail called 'The Good Boy.'“
Will laughs. “I resisted, but once again, Holly's a secret genius. People are raving about it.”
It's been nice watching these two reconnect over the months of planning—texting about foundation strategies, what comes next when you have everything but aren't sure what you want.
“I love seeing you two like this,” I say. “The cousin bond back in action. Though imagine my surprise when I found out my mysterious billionaire client was Evan's cousin.”
Will grins. “Technically second cousin? Uncle William was my mom's cousin, but?—”
“We just say cousin,” Evan finishes. “Easier.”
“Speaking of family connections,” Will says, stepping aside to make room. Mabel Bellamy joins us, champagne flute in hand, wearing purple silk that compliments her shiny silver hair. “William, darling, spectacular party. Though I do wonder why you didn't use the Ritz's ballroom.”
“Not really my style, Aunt Mabel.”
“No, I suppose not.” Her eyes sharpen. “Holly, dear, I should confess something. When I recommended you to William, I may have had ... ulterior motives.”
“Shocking,” Evan deadpans. “Let me guess: you orchestrated something.”
“I always do, darling. It's my signature move.” She sips her champagne. “After that unfortunate photo incident, I was concerned you two might drift apart. Careers have been ruined by less.” She takes another sip. “William needed an event planner. You needed to stay in our circle. I simply ... facilitated.”
“You mean you manipulated,” Evan says.
“Such an ugly word. I prefer 'orchestrated.’” She smiles. “Besides, look how well it worked out. You're engaged, Holly is working with the Durst Group, and William got his perfect party. Everyone wins when I meddle. I'll keep doing it, by the way. Consider yourselves warned.”
“Mabel—”
“Oh, there's the Lieutenant Governor. I must say hello. He owes me a favor from 1987.” She glides off with perfect timing.
Later That Evening
We're home—our apartment, the one we've been slowly making ours—and I'm kicked back on the couch while Evan makes us tea. Through the window, city lights glitter, but I'm thinking about Will heading to small-town quiet.
“It'll be good for him to go home,” Evan says, bringing over two mugs. “He's got a solid support system there. His mom, and Maddie still lives there.”
“Maddie?”
“Yeah, old friend. They were inseparable as kids. Two peas in a pod.”
I'm already reaching for my phone. “Tell me more. Last name? Job? Relationship status?”
Evan looks amused. “Why do you?—”
“EVAN. DETAILS.”
“Um, McPhee? Macallan?”
“Well, she's probably not a Victorian nanny or a bottle of whisky, so—there! Found her. Dr. Maddison Macallister. Veterinarian.” I show him the screen. “Single. Owns the only veterinary clinic in Riverside Falls. Goes by Dr. M.”
Evan raises an eyebrow. “Hm. A dog-loving billionaire going home to where his childhood best friend just happens to be a vet.”
“This is not a coincidence.”
“Could be.”
“He sold his company. He's moving home. His childhood best friend is single AND takes care of animals.”
“You're reading into this.”
