Chapter 13 #2
I had never said that out loud to him.
Maybe not to anybody in exactly those words.
“The affair ended us,” I said. “But it wasn’t the whole problem.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you got used to me being useful.”
His forehead creased.
“That’s not fair.”
There it was.
My cue to retreat.
Explain better.
Make the criticism gentle enough that he could receive it without discomfort.
I felt the impulse.
Then I let it pass.
“You called me after I left because you couldn’t find files in an archive I built.”
“One time.”
“You kept asking after I told you I had work.”
“I was stressed.”
“You emailed me for staffing recommendations after I’d already told you professional requests needed boundaries.”
“I offered to pay you.”
“And now you’re standing in my client’s office after I told you no twice.”
Evan looked around as if the room itself might support his argument.
“I drove twelve minutes.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is?”
“The point is that my no still looks like the opening position in a negotiation to you.”
Silence.
Real silence.
Even Rafe had stopped pretending to organize paper.
Outside, a boat engine turned over and settled into a low growl.
Evan’s mouth tightened.
“I thought if I talked to you in person, you’d understand how serious this is.”
“I understood from the first email.”
“Then you understand that a couple’s wedding weekend could go sideways.”
“No.”
His eyes flashed.
“No?”
“I understand that your staffing problem could make your coverage harder. I understand that you may have to change the plan. I understand that you might have to hire somebody expensive, reduce secondary coverage, call every photographer from Wilmington to Charleston, or do parts of a very long weekend without the team you expected.”
“Exactly.”
“Those are your problems.”
He stared at me.
I felt my pulse in my fingertips.
Not fear.
Adrenaline.
The distinction was new enough that I wanted to frame it.
“The Suttons didn’t cheat on you,” Evan said.
I laughed once.
“No. And I’m not punishing them.”
“You know I can’t cover everything alone.”
“Then don’t. Change the coverage plan. Call your network. Tell the planner what happened. Hire someone. You’re a competent photographer, Evan.”
His expression went strange.
I had complimented him.
That wasn’t the script either.
“You can solve this,” I said. “You’re just angry that I won’t solve it for you.”
His face closed.
For one second, I thought he might actually leave.
Then his attention shifted past me.
Cole had come back inside.
The charter was loaded, and another licensed captain I recognized from Tide & Timber’s summer roster stood at the helm going through the departure checklist.
Cole closed the storefront door behind him.
He stopped beside the display rack.
Not beside me.
Near enough to matter.
Far enough that I still had room.
Evan looked at him.
Then at Rafe.
Then through the side window toward Gray.
Understanding arrived slowly and visibly.
His mouth flattened.
“So this is real.”
I folded my arms.
“What part?”
“This.”
He gestured vaguely.
It managed to include the entire building and possibly the Atlantic Ocean.
“You and him.”
He looked at Cole.
Then Rafe.
His eyes went toward Gray.
“All of them?”
Rafe’s jaw tightened.
Cole’s expression became very calm.
That was usually when I worried most.
Gray came in through the side door.
He did not walk toward Evan.
He leaned against the frame with both arms loose at his sides.
Three men.
Three separate decisions not to turn themselves into weapons.
I loved them a little for it.
Possibly more than a little.
Evan looked at me.
“You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
“About three men.”
“Still yes.”
He lowered his voice.
“Piper, what are you doing?”
That hurt.
Not much.
Enough.
Rafe moved.
One step.
I held up a hand.
He stopped immediately.
“This one’s mine.”
Rafe’s eyes met mine.
Then he nodded.
Cole did too.
Gray stayed exactly where he was.
Evan watched all of it.
Something in his expression shifted from disbelief to embarrassment.
Not for himself.
For me.
That made the last fragile piece of nostalgia die quietly.
“You really want clients knowing about this?” he asked.
My stomach turned over.
There it was.
The last tool.
Not love.
Reputation.
“You think this won’t get around? Wedding clients are conservative. Families talk. Planners talk. You want to build a business under your own name while you’re publicly sleeping with three guys who work at a surf shop?”
Rafe inhaled through his nose.
Gray’s face went blank.
Cole looked at me.
Only me.
I thought about Mrs. Raleigh hugging me on the beach.
About a spring anniversary already on my calendar.
About the couple in Savannah who had paid a retainer last week.
About the fact that some clients might care.
Some probably would.
There were no guarantees hiding behind self-respect.
That was what made it expensive.
“Yes,” I said.
Evan blinked.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, I want my business under my own name. Yes, I’m with Cole, Rafe, and Gray. Yes, I’m aware some people may have opinions.”
I glanced at the men.
“Any of you planning to develop sudden amnesia?”
“No,” Cole said.
Rafe shook his head.
“Absolutely not.”
Gray said, “That would be inefficient.”
I stared at him.
“Really?”
His mouth twitched.
“Timing.”
“Terrible timing.”
Evan looked between them.
“You all know about each other.”
Rafe said, “That is generally how living together works.”
“Rafe.”
He lifted both hands.
“Sorry.”
He was not sorry.
I looked back at Evan.
“This isn’t something they’re doing to me. It isn’t something I’m doing because you broke me. And it isn’t something I need you to understand.”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“No.”
The word came out gentle this time.
That surprised both of us.
“You don’t get that job anymore.”
Evan flinched.
I hated that part.
I could hurt someone and still be right to stop.
Apparently adulthood was full of terrible design choices.
He looked down at the camera hanging from his harness.
“We were supposed to get married in October.”
“I know.”
“I know I fucked up.”
“I know.”
“I thought there might still be something.”
“There is.”
His head came up.
“History.”
I swallowed.
“Some of it was good. I’m not going to rewrite eight years because the ending was awful.”
His eyes went shiny.
Mine did too.
That was allowed.
“But I don’t want to go back.”
He looked at me for a long time.
Then his gaze moved to the men again.
“This is what you want?”
I almost said yes.
Then I realized the question was still too small.
“This is part of what I want.”
I touched the edge of my laptop.
“I want this business. Mine. I want work I choose. I want the cottage out back even when nobody needs me sleeping there. I want these idiots.”
“Harsh,” Rafe said quietly.