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When Zara looks at me, I shrug. Clearly she thinks “worked it out” means that we are actually together, but I’ll leave that to Evie to explain.
Zara’s phone vibrates on the bar. “Sorry, it’s Cole. He’s finished for the day.”
“Tell him to come over.” Evie picks up her drink.
“You sure? I mean, I don’t want to interrupt anything.”
“You’re not. Tris was in the area and just popped in.”
“I was talking to your husband, actually,” I say, not completely in agreement with the notion Zara hadn’t interrupted us.
“Oh?”
I’m about to explain the zoning issue when I stop, realizing that it’s probably not information I should freely discuss with Evie.
“Just some dry business stuff.”
“So, just to clarify, you guys are fine with Lee’s column? I will totally kill it if you want me to.”
“No,” we both say at the exact same time.
“So this is where the party’s at?” Cole strides toward us.
“That was quick,” Zara says.
“I was already heading toward the car when I texted.” He gives his wife a kiss on the cheek and sticks his hand out to me.
“Long time no see,” I say, shaking it.
“Hey, Evie,” Cole says. “So what the hell is going on here?”
“This is their weekend,” Zara explains.
Cole knows my schedule all too well. I’ve turned down many an invite for weekend outings. The only time I agree to anything on a Friday or Saturday night is when one of my family members is free to take over. Lusanne has been on me to hire a manager, but with a tight profit margin, I’m hesitant to do so when I could do the work myself.
“What can I get you?” Evie asks Cole.
“Angel Pale Ale,” he answers.
“Make that two,” I add.
Evie’s mouth circles into an “o” in mock indignation.
“Loved your drink,” I tell her as she pours two of my brother’s beers into glasses and slides them toward us. “But gotta drive home.”
“Yeah, I should probably switch,” she says.
“Or you could have another one of these with me,” Zara says. “They are so good. And we can drive you home.”
“I’m happy to as well,” I say, knowing the words are a death sentence for any semblance of distance between Evie and me. But I’m beyond giving a shit.
Even if I can’t talk to her about my restaurant zoning or about a thousand other topics. Not without sharing proprietary information.
I don’t miss the look Cole gives me, a combination of confusion and caution.
“So what are we celebrating?” Zara asks once everyone has a drink.
“Bridgewater,” Cole says. “Pulling us all back, her siren’s call too alluring to ignore.”
