Chapter Three
The rear passenger door opened next, and Isla had to tell herself to stay cool when he got out.
She recognized him instantly from TV and articles and the one time she’d seen him up close.
None of those brief glimpses did Myles Corrigan a bit of justice.
Isla had to force herself to not stare too long, to play it cool and focus on getting herself out of there.
She’d done her part, brought Holland home safely.
Myles joined them, making his assessments as his driver had. Isla reminded herself to be quiet and look unbothered when she felt the opposite.
He stopped beside Isla. If he knew she was there, he didn’t let on.
Isla chuckled softly with a slight shake of her head.
Of course. The rich were all the same. They saw no one they thought was beneath them.
Holland was an anomaly, though Isla wondered if her kindness was genuine or because she needed help.
Myles waited expectantly, focusing on the guard. His silence was a directive that the guard understood. He ditched the bravado he’d had a few moments ago and began explaining away the grievous mistake, the loss of Holland, that he hadn’t made.
“And Isla was a total lifesaver, got an Uber, Hasaan over there, to bring me home,” Holland was in the middle of proclaiming, as if to avert impending disaster by assuring her brother that the two strangers were friendlies, not foes.
Up until then, the tall, sharp-featured man with serious eyes hadn’t acknowledged Isla’s existence, and it had pissed her off. But with his full attention on her, she started second-guessing if being nonexistent was a bad thing. Myles Corrigan had a way of making her feel everything.
His eyes raked over her in a way that made her feel lacking, insignificant, and weirdly attracted, if the way her stomach traitorously fluttered when she saw him was any indication.
She straightened her clothes, hating how her mind went to her appearance.
Did she smell like old food from the luncheon and cleanup earlier that afternoon?
Luckily, it was dark, and any major stains were hidden.
She’d never cared before about impressing anyone, believing that behind closed doors, everyone was the same, but being in proximity to him made her feel horribly inadequate and like she needed a redo on her first impression.
“Isla.” The prompt came from Holland, and Isla realized they were looking at her, waiting for her.
She cleared her throat. “Right. I don’t know about being a lifesaver, but I called an Uber, that’s all. And we rode in the Uber together since it was her first time, and for her to be comfortable.”
Myles made no comment. Instead, he considered Isla as if there was more to her story, and she looked right back, pretending that she didn’t want to melt into the surrounding woods and away from his imposing stare, which made her feel like he knew all her secrets.
“Wasn’t that nice of her?” Holland said pointedly, breaking their standoff. “Myles?” She shook her head, giving Isla an apologetic smile. “Sorry. My brother can be kinda intense.”
Isla agreed, though not aloud, glad for Holland’s intercession. The guard touched his ear, head inclined as he listened to his incoming message. “Miss Holland’s car is coming up.”
As if on cue, two dots of light appeared in the dark from the other side of the gates, growing larger as they got closer.
Myles finally spoke, his voice like deep velvet, decisive and authoritative. “Cancel it,” he told the guard. “Cool with you, Holl, to ride up with your intense big bro? That way your mother won’t get any more upset than she probably already is.”
Holland muttered, “There’s no ‘probably’ about it.”
Holland agreed. She was thrilled to be riding with him. Isla could see that when he, who seemed so stiff and cold, looked down at Holland, warmth cracked through all that facade of impenetrable ice. Holland was his weak spot.
Myles instructed his driver, Taylor, to grab her gear.
Which reminded Holland, “Yes. The trunk too. Hasaan, could you please pop the trunk to get my gear?” She turned back to Myles. “At practice today, I got Stephen on three. Can you believe it?”
Myles half smiled. “You’re killing it. Your coach back at school will love that.”
Hasaan tried to be helpful, opening his door to assist.
“No need. You can stay in the car,” Taylor said quickly from the back of the car.
Zykowski, the guard whose nameplate Isla could finally read clearly, handed Myles the phone. Myles sighed, showing it to his sister.
“Don’t,” Holland said before he could say anything else. She started to follow him back to his car before spinning on her heel. “I need to pay you back for the ride.”
Isla waved her away. “Don’t worry about it. I got it. I need to head back down now, though. Early day tomorrow. It was good meeting you.” She threw Myles a sidelong glance. “And you, too, I guess.”
If he heard her, he pretended not to, impatiently waiting for his sister to come with him. He didn’t even look at her. Clearly Myles Corrigan was incapable of partaking of a bit of levity.
“Corrigans are never allowed to owe anyone. Not even each other,” Holland said. “That’s the one thing our dad hates the most. Owing people, and then cheats, thieves, and liars. Not necessarily in that order.” It was Holland’s attempt at a joke, but neither Isla nor Myles played along.
Isla nodded slowly, focusing on everything else so her thoughts wouldn’t betray her.
Myles cleared his throat, cutting his sister off before she said too much. “How much do we owe you for your time and kindness . . . I guess?” His expression remained unchanged.
It wasn’t that serious. They were acting as if they now owed her a blood debt. Definitely time to go. “Just pay it forward someday. It’s not owing me.” Isla started for the Uber.
“I insist,” Myles said as Isla walked away.
She chose to ignore him, calling over her shoulder, “Holland, set up accounts for Lyft and Uber, okay? Next time I might not be around.”
Isla wasn’t fast enough, because Taylor was back at her opened door, blocking her hasty retreat with his body, his phone out with the camera pulled up, giving her no other option.
Isla looked at him, dumbfounded. Could there be more to his and Myles’s insistence on paying her?
Could they be wanting her number so they could look her up?
The thought chilled her, but she didn’t let it show.
Defeated, Isla got her phone and allowed Taylor to capture the QR code of her relatively new Cash App account.
Within seconds, $1,000 was in her account.
Her eyes widened at the unexpected sum that had increased her balance, much more than the cost of the total ride. She mumbled her thanks, but Taylor was already heading back to the vehicle with Holland’s belongings.
Holland was in the back seat, but Myles remained outside longer, concentrating on Isla as if she were a puzzle he was about to solve.
He must be great at parties. A real people’s guy.
She offered him a little wave and the biggest smile she didn’t mean.
It was hard to see his actual reaction, but she knew whatever it was wasn’t pleasant.
That made her uneasy, like he could see right through her and knew her innermost, darkest thoughts.
She had to get herself together. The night was almost done.
“Thank you, Isla,” he said.
The way he said her name, deep and confident, made her stomach flutter with betrayal.
With Myles waiting, she fumbled her way into Hasaan’s back seat, troubled by her unsettled feelings.
It wasn’t until she shut the door, sealing herself off from him, that he finally followed his sister.
Their car passed over the threshold, the taillights receding in the distance until the gates closed, separating the haves from the have-nots.