Chapter 34 Flo
Tell me why I should be enjoying myself at the Atlanta Botanical Gardens in Georgia, but instead, I’m in a coffee shop around the corner, doom scrolling on the internet because yet another fake report has come out about Evan.
I want to text him to ask if he’s okay, but we haven’t spoken since I left, and I’m unsure if he’d appreciate me popping up out of the blue.
I’ve even succumbed to searching for Zara Scott on socials and discovered that her due date is just days away—something she’s flaunting to her many followers she’s gained since marrying a famous athlete.
For my own peace of mind, I’ve had to block her so I don’t look again, because all it does is upset me.
It’s so unlike me to be jealous, to be insecure about something like this.
I’m not happy on this trip, even though I’m attempting to force myself to look at it from a positive perspective. Only, I’m now a couple thousand dollars down, and it doesn’t even feel worth it.
I place my phone back in my bag, refusing to look at it, before collecting my drink from the barista and heading to the self-service station to sprinkle it with cinnamon.
Okay, it sounds gross, but it was Mae’s suggestion, and surprisingly, it works. It makes me feel like I have a little piece of her with me whenever I drink one—the little cinnamon-obsessed demon.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” says a voice with a heavy twang from beside me at the same time a hand hits mine.
“No, you’re good,” I tell the tall thirty-something man in front of me, wearing a cowboy hat, plaid shirt, and boots. He looks like he got lost on the way to the cattle auction.
He shoots me a smile. “Whatcha drinkin’, darlin’?”
Shrek blended up, as Evan would call it.
“The only thing holding me together,” I say with a smile, holding up my drink to bid him farewell, but the man begins walking in my direction. Looks like he’s seated at a table right beside mine.
His brown eyes linger a little longer to be polite, his lips finding the brim of his hot drink, which he’s sprinkled with chocolate.
Sure, he’s good-looking and has the whole southern charm going for him. Anyone could see that, but I haven’t looked at another man in the same way I look at Evan since walking into his life.
I’m just not interested, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be. Evan West is my standard, and nobody will beat that man. So I sit with myself for a little while.
After a long moment, I eventually pull my phone from my bag to text Jenna and ask where to meet her and the others, but I see I have a missed call from Evan, and my heart flies into my throat.
He’s left me a voicemail.
I stare at my phone in the middle of the Atlanta coffee shop, shell-shocked, listening to the voicemail left by Evan and…
Bennett? It’s clear Leo’s holding the phone, as he talks over the guys who sound further away, occasionally babbling about a ladybug or butterfly.
Still, for the most part, I can hear exactly what Evan and Bennett are talking about.
Me.
I miss her.
She makes me feel like a better father.
I want her as more than a nanny.
There’s a ringing in my ears, like my brain has short-circuited, trying to process the words being said. I’ve listened to the voicemail three times already, and it still remains the same.
It’s a jab to the gut. My chest feels tight, like it’s extremely full. And I wonder if it’s the size of my heart that’s weighing me down, now carrying far too many feelings. Too many emotions.
I reach forward to take a sip of my matcha in order to calm myself, stopping myself from clicking on his number and calling him for the time being.
What would I say? The neurons connecting my brain to my mouth have seized up.
A confident tap on my shoulder startles me, and I turn to see a man with dark, shoulder-length hair grinning at me, dressed in a tweed brown suit with a green and fluorescent pink tie—an ugly tie I recognise.
“Matthew?” I question in shock.
“Flo, what a pleasant surprise.” He takes a seat opposite me at the table. “Lovely weather here, isn’t it?”
I’m not stupid enough to think that this is a coincidence. Like, really? What are the chances that out of all the states, all the cities, and all the coffee shops, Matthew and I would just so happen to walk into the same one?
“What do you want, Matthew?”
He whistles. “Ooh, seems someone’s still a little bitter over the whole promotion thing.”
“How did you know I was here?”
“Who said I came here to find you?”
I deadpan him.
“Okay, sure, you got me. I came here to find you.”
What a fucking creep. “How did you know where I was?” I haven’t posted it on any of my social media platforms. I don’t use them much, except to showcase my recent creations. “And what was so important that you needed to literally stalk me?”
“Stalk you? Come on, that’s a bit of a stretch, Flo.”
“I don’t have time for this.”
Matthew hums. “Well, I think you do. Six months, in fact. Having a good trip?”
His nose is looking pretty fucking breakable right now.
“Okay, look, I have my ways. My ways being Ella Baxter. She said she bumped into you in some kind of play park? Very interesting.” He quirks a brow, waiting for my response, but when he doesn’t get one, he says, “Anyway, it took me a few minutes to find the trip plan online for the company you’re using, and you’re friends—” He points in the direction of the botanical gardens—”posted about where they were thirty minutes ago.
Since you weren’t with them, I knew you would be nearby.
We all know how Flo can’t go without her matcha, right? ”
“I have a phone, you know? You could have called me.”
“And would you have answered?”
“Nope.” I pop the ‘P’ and sip at my matcha.
“So, what did you do over the summer, then, Flo?”
I let my blank look answer for me.
“Oh, you were a nanny for Evan West’s son? Wow, now that is interesting.” He leans forward, smirking, and my back immediately straightens.
“How do you know that, too?”
“It’s literally my job to be a nosy fuck, Flo. I can put the pieces together. Now,” he says, leaning forwards, bracing his hands on his knees and gazing at me intensely, “tell me everything.”
“Oh, you have to be kidding me right now. You’re kidding, right?”
Matthew releases a slimy chuckle. “I’ll make sure this benefits you, Flo.
I’m talking about a documentary, all about Evan and his family life.
With you as the star, spilling all the secrets.
Maybe a book deal? This could make you hundreds of thousands of dollars, if not more.
You’d be set for life. I’ll make sure of it. ”
I’m insulted that he’d think I would stoop as low as to spill Evan’s secrets. What I experienced with Evan and Leo was raw and real. It was mine. “Get out of my face, Matthew.”
“I can sign you a check right now. I know you have some gossip. Some photos. How can you not after living with the two of them for two months?”
“You think I’m going to believe a word you say? Even if I were interested, which I’m definitely not, anything you’d offer me would be a lie anyway.”
“It wasn’t for those other women.”
My ears perk up. “What other women?”
Matthew’s eyes meet mine like the answer is plain as day. “The women I pay to go to other agencies and lie about Evan and Leo.”
I recoil back as if Matthew’s just smacked me around the face. “You? What? You’re doing that?”
His shoulders lift in a nonchalant shrug. “To keep him relevant. All in preparation for eventually getting the scoop and creating something big.” His eyes sparkle with dollar signs.
“Does Alexander know you’re throwing his client to the lions?”
Matthew’s expression doesn’t shift. “He gave me an important job, Flo. Told me to do what I need to do. Beats me if he knows, but I doubt he cares.”
Alexander knows everyone’s business. There isn’t a chance in hell he isn’t aware of what his nephew is doing.
“Think about the money. Think about the fame, Flo. Don’t pass up an opportunity like this. Come on, do something helpful with what you know about Evan West.”
Rage—it’s like a drum being beaten inside my tight chest. Heat pools between my eyes, dilating them. Fire thrums through my veins.
A sound of disgust forms in my throat. “Oh, trust me, I will.” I pick up my matcha and stand, throw the lid of the cup onto the table, and slosh the green liquid all over Matthew, leaving him dripping and glaring up at me with flaring nostrils.
There’s not much out there worth wasting a good, creamy matcha over, but this definitely takes the cake.
The man in the cowboy hat gawks at me with wide eyes from his table. Bet he's thinking he dodged a bullet with me.
“That’s for fucking with Evan and Leo,” I tell Matthew, placing the cup back down carefully like the gentle little lady I am. “And for taking my promotion, you stupid fuck. How’s that for gossip?”
Fuck this trip.
Fuck Matthew.
Fuck Alexander.
And most of all, fuck Evan West for making me fall in love with him.
But, I wouldn’t change it for the world.
Then I march out of the coffee shop and pull out my phone to book a one-way flight.
Next and final stop: Montana.