Chapter 20 Evie #2
I draw in a long, slow breath as I take in Bedell House, refamiliarizing myself with it.
It looks largely the same. Everything is massive and looks untouched despite the thousands of people that walk these halls every year.
He leads me farther into the house, and there are people everywhere, carrying trays of drinks and hors d’oeuvres.
There are big, beautiful rose bouquets on every table, and music fills the halls, sweeping its way down to us from the grand hall, which I remember is in the west wing.
There are guests standing around, sipping their drinks at the cocktail tables, ordering from one of the four bars that are set up around the main level, chatting with each other and looking like they absolutely fit in here.
I don’t, but I never really felt like Keaton did either.
I think that’s what gave me hope for us in the first place.
And then Cato squashed it.
But that was then.
This is now.
And now, Keaton needs me. He wants me. He has chosen me, and there is nothing Cato Everett can do about it.
Keaton leads me into a smaller room off the grand hall that doesn’t feel any less grand.
I remember the huge three-story fireplace.
This is where the Everett’s family tree was set up every year, not to be confused with the forty-foot one they set up in the main foyer for guests.
Back in the day, Keaton’s grandfather would select five charities or non-profits, and then visitors could make a small donation to one of their choosing.
When they donated, they would get an ornament that they could add to the tree.
When his grandfather died, Cato did away with the tradition. He told the boys that they weren’t in the business of playing “banker” and collecting money for other “businesses.” I remember Keaton drank himself silly that night in my bedroom.
When we walk in, the first person I lay eyes on is Sawyer, and I am instantly at ease.
Maybe misery loves company, but I know Cato doesn’t like her and thinks she’s a “gold-digging bimbo,” as she so eloquently put it.
I also know from Keat that she put Cato on blast in front of all his rich buddies at his wife’s birthday party a few months ago.
So she might be one of my new favorite people.
Keaton tightens his grip on me as he leads me through the crowd, smiling and nodding politely at all the people who stare at us, just craving any attention he will give them. I hate that for him because I know he hates it. He wants to be as far away from Bedell House as he can be.
Just as we approach them, I hear someone from behind us.
“Well, well, well,” the voice says, but I don’t recognize it. “Who do we have here, big brother?”
We spin back around, and I see a much taller, broader, much more handsome Brooks. His eyes grow wide when he sees my face and realizes that it’s me. His eyes bounce from me to Keaton, over to Julian, and back to me.
“Do my eyes deceive me, or has the girl who crushed my brother’s heart waltzed back into our lives?
” he asks me with a coy smile. There is a beautiful blonde on his arm, who is looking around the room, sipping a glass of champagne.
She doesn’t belong here either—I can tell.
But she is pretty desperate for no one to know.
I smile back at him just as I feel Keaton tense up next to me.
“That’s because I heard that his pain-in-the-ass little brother wasn’t around much, but I guess I was the one who was deceived,” I say. Sawyer scoffs from behind us, and Keaton and Julian choke back laughs. Brooks raises an eyebrow but smiles down at me as he looks between us again.
“So you’re back, then, huh?” he asks. I nod and smile.
“You can’t get rid of me this time,” I tell him. He looks at Keaton, then looks back at me, then takes a step toward me and pulls me in for a hug.
“In that case, get in here,” he says. I hug him back, but it lasts longer than I’m prepared for. He rubs my back gently and makes a soft humming noise, like he’s eating something he likes. When I realize what he’s doing, I let go of him, just as Keaton playfully shoves him off.
“Nice try, dick,” Keaton says. Brooks backs away with an innocent shrug.
“Hey, I was just a tyke when she dipped,” he says. “She might want to make sure she’s chosen the right brother.” At that, the blonde whips her head around to us.
Keaton rolls his eyes, and I put my hand on Brooks’s shoulder.
“Aww, nice try, Brooksy,” I say, “but you are forever ingrained in my brain as the kid who pissed himself on the Ferris wheel. You are forever eight in my mind, honey.”
This makes Julian laugh out loud, which I consider a win. He’s so much more serious than the other two. It’s nice to break down that wall. When the blonde realizes I am not a threat, she turns her head back to the crowd, back to people-watching.
Brooks takes his defeat like a man, laughing along with his brothers.
“Alright, alright,” he says. “So, what is this, then? Didn’t you ditch the Everetts to go get hitched or something?”
“Who says ‘hitched’ anymore?” Sawyer pipes in, and I love her.
“Brooks, give it a rest,” Keaton says, but I rub his arm, letting him know I can handle whatever wrench is thrown at me today. If getting through today means being the butt of the jokes and the center of the Everett family gossip, then so be it.
“I did, Brooks,” I say, matter-of-factly. “But I think I knew all along where I was actually supposed to be. Just had to find my way back.” I look up at Keaton and wink, and he smiles down at me.
“Well, I, for one, am glad you’re here. I need some more dirt on these guys. More collateral for blackmail, ya know?” Sawyer says with a big grin, holding her glass in the air. I nod my head in her direction.
“Happy to be of service,” I say with a wink. Julian wraps an arm around her waist and smiles.
“I’m glad too,” he says with a sincerity in his eyes that feels foreign to me. “We all need our people right now.”
Brooks looks at his brothers, eyebrows raised. They don’t say anything, just shoot him a look that says, “you should have showed up.” But before Brooks can ask anything, the lights in the room flicker, and the music gets louder.
“Here he comes,” Julian warns, throwing the rest of his beer back before putting it on a tray that’s being carried by. I see him reach for Sawyer’s hand, and I interlock my fingers with Keaton’s.
“I’m here,” I whisper as his grip on me tightens.
But as his eyes narrow in on his father with a look of pure disgust, I don’t know if he is.