Chapter Twelve
Evan
New York City
“Tell me again how you managed that.”
I leaned back in the leather chair at the head of the conference table, watching expressions shift from curiosity to reluctant admiration.
Two weeks ago most of these people had assumed I was a temporary fixture—Bella’s party-prone brother, only filling in until real leadership returned. Now they looked at me like I belonged.
“It wasn’t magic,” I said, sliding the tablet back across the polished wood. “Just a phone call.”
“That shipment has been stuck in customs for six days,” Elena noted, brow furrowed.
“We had three different consultants working on it.” She was technically my sister’s assistant, but after seeing the real role she played—covering for my father and putting out fires—I’d started treating her like a team leader.
And I’d given her a generous raise.
Okay, I’d given everyone who had stuck it out through my father’s shenanigans a substantial raise. Bella and Dad could fight me on it later.
“Yeah,” I replied. “But none of them spent six months building water filtration systems with the regional minister’s cousin in Tanzania.”
The room went silent for a beat. Then someone laughed. “You’re kidding.”
“Not at all.” I shrugged. “Turns out spending a few years helping people build wells and schools gives you an eclectic contact list.”
Elena shook her head, a smile breaking through. “Well, Mr. Holliston, however you did it, you saved us a seven-figure delay.”
Heads nodded around the table—not polite, but genuine respect. That still surprised me. When I’d told Bella I’d step in while she and Drew sorted their next move, I’d expected resistance and skepticism. I hadn’t expected the work to pull me in this fast.
I was still making a difference, just for people who weren’t quite as desperate. Elena was a single mom putting her kids through college. One team member sent money home to his parents in Kentucky. Another was supporting her husband through medical school.
“Good work,” Elena said. “Let’s keep this momentum going.”
“The money we save will be passed along to the most productive departments as bonuses,” I replied. “Have HR come see me about making that happen.”
The meeting broke with the satisfying sound of laptops closing and chairs rolling.
As the room cleared, one of the analysts paused by my chair.
“Glad you’re here,” he said simply. “Productivity is up. When you first showed up, we thought you might be here to lay off people. The optimism feels good.”
“Thanks.”
“You staying?”
I wasn’t ready to answer that. “In some capacity, I hope. But right now my focus is on today and what I can do while I’m in charge.”
He nodded and left. I headed to the office—Bella’s office, technically—and dropped into the chair. Life rarely served one emotion at a time. Part of me was proud I’d stepped up and found ways to make things better for the team.
The rest of me kept drifting back to Firebrook Valley. To the barn. To Nora.
How she’d stood frozen at the fence in riding boots, looking terrified to call her own horse.
When she whistled, I’d held my breath right along with her.
Then Sunny had come thundering across the pasture in a blur.
Nora had climbed the fence and buried herself in his mane, breaking open in a way that wasn’t quiet or polite.
It was raw, ugly, and long overdue. Her shoulders shook so hard I felt it from twenty feet away.
I’d almost gone to her. But it wasn’t my place. It was Brady’s.
And then, as if I’d conjured him, Brady had jogged up the path. He’d slowed when he saw her clinging to the big bay mare—her mother’s horse.
“She hasn’t been back here since her mom died,” I’d told him, voice tight.
Understanding had crossed his face. “That’s her mom’s horse.”
I’d clapped him on the shoulder. “She’s going to need someone today.”
Brady had nodded. “Yeah.”
“I’m glad she has you.” The words had tasted like broken glass, but I’d meant them. Or at least I’d forced myself to. Then I’d walked away, because staying would have been selfish and pure torture.
My phone buzzed, pulling me back. Mom.
I answered. “Hey, Mom.”
“Evan.” Her voice was soft. “I heard you and your father had words.”
“Words is one way to put it. I told him to back off Bella and Drew—and to leave Nora and Brady alone. He didn’t appreciate the advice.”
She sighed. “He’s adjusting to you being home and involved. That’s new for him.”
I slapped my hand down harder than intended. “He’s making me remember why I left.”
“You know he needs you. Bella always protected him. I did too. But you—you don’t let him make excuses. You hold him accountable. Sometimes I wonder if things would have been different between us if I’d done the same.”
I had too many memories of her trying and failing. None of them were welcome. “Mom, are you happier without him?”
A quiet pause. “I loved your father and part of me always will. But yes, I’m happier on my own.
The things I miss wouldn’t come back even if he were here.
I miss all three of you snuggling on the couch for movie nights.
I miss tucking you in for the fifth time and you asking me to lie across the bottom of your bed until you fell asleep.
” She sniffed. “Any chance you’ll be giving me grandchildren soon? ”
I chuckled. “Shouldn’t you be asking Bella that? She’s the one who’s married.”
Silence. Then, “I hate that I’m part of the chaos. It would break my heart if I had grandchildren who didn’t beg me to sneak them cookies.”
“Wait—since when do you believe in sugar? You banned processed foods.”
“Mothers do that. Grandmothers are a whole different breed.” She groaned. “Remember the candy store in Firebrook Valley? Bella finally admitted she used to sneak there and eat an entire bag of root beer barrels. It explains all those sudden stomach aches after she ‘spent time at the barn.’”
“Shocking.”
“You say that like—hold on, did you lie about always wanting to hang out at the barn too?”
“Maybe.”
“Hmm. Laurent never said anything. If he still worked for me I’d have words with him.”
“You should say two words: thank you. Without him we would’ve been miserable. He used to take Bella and me to the feed store and that’s where we met the other kids.”
She sighed. “Then he’s forgiven. Did Brady lie to us as well?”
“Not half as much as I did. He actually liked riding. But he also liked being in town with everyone.”
“I’m not happy you weren’t honest, but I’m more upset with myself for not noticing.”
“You had a lot on your plate. Don’t feel bad. Honestly, it was for the best. You didn’t have to cover for us with Dad, and we got to hang out with whoever we wanted.”
“Except the Burkes.”
“Yeah. We didn’t cross that line.”
“Until lately.”
“We all just want to move on.”
“How did Nora handle not being at the wedding?”
“She took it hard, but she’s not one to complain.”
Mom murmured, “I can’t picture her with Brady . . .”
And I didn’t want to. “Mom. It’s none of our business.”
“Promise me something.”
“Maybe.”
“Promise that if you ever have to choose between appeasing your father and me versus your own happiness, you’ll choose your happiness. It hurt to be left out of Bella’s wedding, but it would have hurt more to know she didn’t follow her heart.”
“I’m not in a position where I have to make that choice.”
“But if you ever are.”
Images of Nora flashed—her raw grief—but I pushed them away. “If I ever am, then yes. I promise.”
“I love you, Evan. And I’m proud of you.”
“I love you too, Mom. And I’m proud of you.”
Ending the call was a relief.
A few minutes later my phone buzzed again. I answered without checking. “Holliston.”
“Evan!” The voice was loud, cheerful, and instantly familiar. Mateo.
I sat up straighter. “Mateo.” It wasn’t just any caller, it was my old life reaching out.
“The one and only,” he laughed. “Tell me the rumor isn’t true.”
“What rumor?”
“That you’re still alive but avoiding us.”
I leaned back, already knowing where this was headed. “I’m very much alive.”
A chorus of voices erupted in the background. “No way!” “Is that Evan?” “Tell him to join us!”
Mateo laughed. “You hear that? We miss you.”
“Who’s ‘we’?”
“The usual suspects—Myself, Luca, Aisha, and Tomas.” The crew that built schools in Peru, rebuilt villages in Greece after the fires, and threw wild parties that should have killed us all.
We worked hard, helped a lot of people, and celebrated like tomorrow might not come.
They’re too good for hell and too wild for heaven. “You still know how to have fun, Evan?”
I looked out at the Manhattan skyline. “I do, but I have responsibilities holding me in New York right now.”
“We’ll come to you.”
I opened my mouth to say it was a bad idea, but Mateo was already polling the group and the answer was a loud, enthusiastic yes.
“Perfect,” he said. “Show us your city.”
Behind him someone shouted, “Take us somewhere illegal!” while another voice added, “Or epic!”
“Come on, Evan. We’ll fly out tonight. Show us how New York does it.”
I hesitated half a second. Things were going well here. But the pull of my old life—good friends, loud music, flowing liquor—was too strong to ignore. Anything to drown out Firebrook Valley and Nora.
“Alright,” I said.
Mateo whooped. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
“If you want New York,” I told him, standing and rolling my shoulders, “I’ll set you up.”
After the call I walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and pressed my hand to the glass. I caught my reflection: charcoal suit, gold watch from Bella, every hair in place. I looked like a man in control.
Nothing like the Evan who had lost his temper with Dad and bolted from Firebrook Valley to avoid watching Nora choose Brady.
Great. Now I’m thinking about myself in third person. That’s a sign I need to stay the hell away from mountain air and Nora until I come back to my senses.
In my mind I raised an imaginary glass of scotch. “To faking sanity until it returns.”
I straightened my tie, adjusted my cuffs, and let the mask settle. Two things could be true: I could hold the company together for my family and I could cut loose a little.
I picked up my phone and texted Mateo one word: Lavo.
The most exclusive club in the city—loud, crowded, shallow. The perfect place to drink my head straight.