The Love Story (The Things We Can't Change Book 4) (19 page)

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Authors: Kassandra Kush

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BOOK: The Love Story (The Things We Can't Change Book 4)
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Koby flashes a grin at me. “I always knew you were devious, somewhere deep down.”

I’m filled with a sudden rush of affection for him. Impulsively, before I even realize what I’m doing, I reach over and give him a quick hug. A second later it hits me, that we’re actually
touching
, and I pull back a little too quickly. But I’ve still surprised myself. And Koby, by the look on his face.

“Um, sorry,” I say, locking my hands behind my back. “I know that was kind of random.”

“It’s cool,” he says, recovering himself. “I know you weren’t coming onto me or anything. Although you may have to tell Zeke that because he looks a little pissed.”

He jerks a thumb to the left and I turn to meet Zeke’s bright green eyes. He’s staring at me, at both of us. Judging by the hard set of his jaw, he saw me hug Koby. I fight an insane urge of guilt at the totally innocent act. And the irrational flash of fear that goes through me.

Calm down,
I tell myself firmly.
Zeke won’t hit you for hugging another guy. Zeke is not Tony. We went through this before, remember?

But the unsettled feeling remains and I suddenly feel a little dirtier for having hugged Koby. It’s absurd. I tell myself that over and over, until I at least look calm even if I don’t really feel it.

Find him and actually talk this time,
I order myself firmly.
But right now, you have a dance to save.

“I’ll find him after,” I say casually to Koby. “Ready?”

“Yup. Let’s save the day and all that crap.” He starts forward, across the dining room toward the kitchen doors and the hallway that will lead me to the manager’s offices. “We’ll be remembered forever in the annals of Grandview Heights High School. Our names will be the stuff of legends. They’ll probably even add our names to the alma mater song that nobody even knows the words to.”

I peer up at him, eyebrows raised. “Um, it
is
just a dance, remember? It’s not even prom.”

“Yeah, I know. I know it’s just a stupid high school dance and you’re only cool if you think it’s lame and all that. But you gotta admit, it just got on our home turf and that made it all ten times more exciting. Besides.” We stop by the kitchen doors where we’ll part ways and Koby looks at me seriously. “It’s our senior homecoming and we get to leave a mark on it. I think that’s pretty cool.”

I eye him speculatively. “You’re surprisingly deep, Koby Phillips.”

He shrugs with a carefree, winning smile that reminds me so much of Zeke that my heart gives a pang. “Hey. I try. Now let’s do this. Good luck. Alex can be a hard ass sometimes but he’s always fair.”

“Excellent,” I mutter to myself as he disappears past the swinging doors and I head down the hallway.

The club is much quieter here, away from the bustle of the dining and event rooms and the outside loudness of tennis courts and locker rooms. When I was little, I used to come here with my dad all the time, fidgeting in the chairs outside of whatever office his meeting was in. As I got older I could stay home, and then I got even older and began my own slew of golf lessons (which quickly fell to the wayside), tennis lessons and other hobbies and activities through the club. I was in and out of here all the time with Tony and my old friends, for events, parties, weddings, tennis and meals.

It feels strange to be here now of my own accord, dressed in casual yoga pants, V-neck and cardigan. Clarissa would have a fit if she could see me here dressed like this and how I was destroying our
image.
I belatedly realize that for a real meeting, I ought to have changed into nicer clothes, but it’s too late for that now. I’m already standing before a door bearing a plate engraved with,
Alexander Quain, Events Manager.

It’s strange to be reminded that Zeke’s uncle is actually a very important person at the club. All the cooks, servers, event planners and bar tenders are under him and all events go through him first. I think of the calm, unflappable and trustworthy demeanor both Zeke and his uncle share and realize why Alex must be successful at his job. If I were a stressed bride-to-be or hassled company executive, I would be reassured instantly with Alex Quain on the job.

I knock on the door and he calls for me to come in. I do so and am momentarily thrown off balance. I’m so used to seeing him behind a bar, helping out and keeping an eagle eye on the staff, that the sight of him behind a desk with a dress shirt and loosened tie is extremely off-putting. Still, I enter and close the door behind me.

“Evie, hey.” Alex gives me a small, spare smile, reminding me instantly of Zeke. “Take a seat. What brings you here? I was always under the impression this wasn’t your favorite place.”

“It’s not,” I admit truthfully, taking the offered chair. “No offense.”

“None taken. I can hazard a guess why and I find the reasons extremely valid. So that leaves the question still: what brings you here?”

I begin to explain and Alex listens with an impassive face that makes me feel even more intimidated than I already am. But I keep going because there’s something about Alex that also puts me at ease. I wonder what it is about these Quain men, animal magnetism or excess testosterone or just magic. I can’t put a name to it but deep down, I would trust them as I would only have trusted my dad. It makes me wonder what Zeke’s dad is like.

“This is what our budget looks like, and what we were paying for the last venue,” I finish, passing a piece of paper to him over the desk. “I know the club offers member discounts but it’s still probably more expensive than what we were paying for the hotel. I’m prepared to pay the difference out of my own pocket.”

I’ve already decided I am. I have so much money I don’t know what to do with most of it and even though it isn’t my fault, I still felt guilty for owning it. There’s no reason I can’t pay. I’ve displayed precious little school pride in my four years at Grandview Heights.

Alex continues to study the paper for a long moment and I can almost see him working out the totals in his head, probably with the ease of long practice. Finally, he sets the paper down and regards me for a long moment.

“You got Zeke to draw again.”

It’s not at all what I expected to come out of his mouth. I stare at him, my jaw working soundlessly a few times before I can manage to make sound come out of it.

“He… he helped me too. You can’t have missed it. I was a mess after… after all that happened.”

Alex shakes his head. “Zeke hasn’t drawn for almost three years. Not even pictures of Cindy or for Cindy when she asked. You got him to do that. I’ll always owe you for that. I was worried he would go to waste and end up in jail. So, thank you.”

“You’re… you’re welcome,” I sputter, unsure of the proper response.

“Your dad was also a good man,” Alex continues. “A very good man. He treated me and my staff with respect and I appreciate that. Now, before you think I’m offering you charity, remember that your dad spent and raised a lot of money through and for our club. We generally reward that kind of business.”

“I’m listening,” I say cautiously.

“We try and donate and do charity work for a tax break like any other business. I can let you have the terrace room free of charge. If you and your committee can do clean up and tear down, that gets cut out too. If you’re good with buffet style, then your normal amount will cover the food, half wait staff and the dance floor rental, along with our mandatory cleaning fees. The room can be set up starting Thursday afternoon. I’ve got a party in there Wednesday but we can leave the lights up on the terrace and gazebo from that.” He pauses to make sure I’m following. “How does that sound?”

“Too good to be true,” I admit sheepishly. I’d been prepared to do battle. It was part of why I’d been so nervous. “I’m afraid to say anything at all. You might change your mind.”

Alex gives a sharp bark of laughter and passes his own piece of paper and a pen across the desk toward me. “Just sign on the dotted line and I won’t be allowed to.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ezekiel

102

 

 

 

I see red when I witness Evie giving Koby a hug. I have absolutely no right, especially after how I treated her on Saturday. And because I’m trying to keep my distance.

In fact, I should be glad that she’s hanging out with Koby. He deserves her, is actually worthy of Evie. And I saw with my own eyes that she hugged him of her own accord, without reservation. I should be proud of her because it’s a major step.

Instead I just feel cheated that I’m no longer the only person in the world that Evie can stand to have in her personal space.

I am a damned fool.

None of this really sinks in. Not how irrational it is to be mad, how unfair, really, or how stupid I am to be jealous for any reason at all. Koby is one of my best friends and he knows the situation between Evie and me is unique. He would never, ever cross that line. But I can’t focus on any of that.

Instead, when Koby exits the kitchen at last, I happen to be walking past and accidentally-on-purpose bump my shoulder into his—hard. I keep heading for the kitchen but Koby whips around.

“Do you have problem?” he snaps. “Because that’s sure as hell an immature way to deal with it.”

I turn around, palms out in innocence, though I know he can probably see the anger simmering just below the surface. “Don’t think I said I had one.”

“You didn’t have to say it out loud.” Koby scowls darkly. “We both know you’re pissed. So all I’m gonna say is grow a pair and deal with it. It was harmless.”

I take a step forward, my fists clenching despite myself. Before I can actually get any words out, Koby is shaking his head.

“Seriously, Zeke? You’re going to take a swing at me?
Here
? You know, you’ve been a real douche lately, especially to Evie and your friends. Will you grow up already?”

“Shut up,” I growl, fury pounding at my temples.

Before either of us can make a move—or I do something I’ll undoubtedly regret—a voice cuts crisply through the air. It’s one Koby and I always have to pay head to, at least on club property.

“Is there a problem, boys?”

I turn slightly and see Uncle Alex and Evie standing to one side. Alex has both arms crossed and is glaring daggers at us. He always hates catfights and disagreements of any kind that take place outside of the kitchen.

Evie is looking back and forth between Koby and me, her eyes wide and nervous. I force myself to relax, loosening my hands and unclenching my stiff jaw. I know any outward signs of violence make Evie nervous but for some reason her eyes seem wider and more afraid than the occasion warrants.

“No problem,” I say, taking a step back from Koby. I mutter in his direction, “My bad.” It’s as close to an apology as I can manage, especially with an audience.

Koby studies me for a moment and then sighs and shrugs. “We’re good. You work something out?” he asks Evie and Alex.

“Good to go,” Evie replies, brandishing a folder with the clubs logo on it.

“Sweet. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” And Koby is gone.

“I need to get back to work,” I mutter, even though the dining room is practically empty.

“Actually,” Evie says quickly, her gaze darting from Alex to me. “Could I talk to you for a second? Privately? If that’s all right?”

Alex scans the quiet dining room and snorts a little. “Take fifteen, Zeke. It’s fine.”

Of course, the one time I’d rather not be allowed off duty, Alex decides to do me a favor.

“Thanks,” I say to him, and then lead Evie across the dining room and to an outside door. I realize with a jolt that it’s where this all started, really. This is the corner of the building where I first saw Evie slap Tony.

From the way Evie has wrapped her arms around herself and has a distant look in her eyes, she’s thinking of the same thing. She looks small and defenseless, like a little kid, and the wall around my emotions crumbles—for the moment.

“He’ll never hurt you again, Evie,” I say gently. “You know that.”

“I do,” she says quickly. “I do know that.” She seems to shake off whatever memory was gripping her and looks up at me.

I feel like the world’s absolute biggest ass when I actually read fear in her eyes. It kills me. Evie and I have always understood each other perfectly, fell into something natural and effortless. And now I’ve purposefully been turning the tables on her.

“I need you to say something,” she finally says, and holds up her hands to halt any protest. “It’s not what you think. It’s not…
that.
Remember on Saturday when I said I could never talk rationally to Tony? Well, this is me trying to do that again. About something else, though. And it’s really hard for me to do this so please, let me at least say it all.”

I want to stop her right now, but I
did
tell her that she has to get over this. Making her stop now would be like kicking her in the teeth. I give her a nod to continue.

“I saw your face when I hugged Koby,” she finally says all in a rush. “It was a totally innocent thing, by the way. Even though I shouldn’t have to tell you that. But I saw your face and it made me… nervous. I just need your word that you won’t fight Koby or whatever over it. Or hurt… anyone else.”

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