Eugene sighed—a long, deflated exhale that made him sink deeper into the leather chair. He looked older in that mont. The man was always put-together, always polished.
"Actually," he said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck, "I thought you would have made the announcent to stop the engagent."
"I ca there to stop the engagent," Winn said. "But I am a businessman." His lips pulled into a humorless smirk. "I take advantage of situations."
His phone vibrated against the desk.
He glanced at the caller ID anyway. Sylvia.
He pressed the phone face-down without answering.
He leveled his gaze at Eugene again.
"Do we have a deal?" Winn asked quietly.
Eugene looked at Winn, then away, then back again.
"Fine. I don’t know how long I can hold my parents off from fixing a date for the wedding," Eugene said.
"Give two months. Just two months." Two months was a battlefield. It was his last chance to make Ivy feel safe, to avenge her, to avenge the death of their daughter. Two months... it had to be enough.
"Alright." Eugene got to his feet slowly, smoothing down the front of his blazer in a gesture so controlled it was almost robotic. He exhaled. "Thank you for not saying anything."
"Thank when I get my girl back. And if you touch her..."
"I haven’t... I won’t." Eugene lifted his palms in surrender. "You don’t have to worry about that."
"She’d make you straight though," Winn said, attempting to lighten the tension.
"And yes, I knew what you were doing to her under the dining table. I’m gay, not stupid." Eugene arched a brow. Winn’s laugh rumbled through the office.
"Actually, I feel foolish now. Cause I got quite the hard on thinking I was finger fucking my girl in front of her boyfriend. It was quite the rush. Now I just feel deflated."
He said it shalessly, leaning back in his leather chair. There was no embarrassnt, only the sultry confidence of a man who didn’t regret a single second.
"I wasn’t her boyfriend then yet." Eugene sighed as he said it.
"Yeah, I found that out later. Still..."
"I’ll see you around, Mr Kane." He said it with a nod before stepping out.
*****
Evans picked Mary’s call just as he was stepping into the house. "Hey Sis!" he started to say — but before the word even fully ford, Theresa squealed.
She barreled toward him with her tiny feet, curls bouncing wildly around her small face. She collided with his legs at full force, wrapping her arms around him.
"Daddy! Daddy, Daddy!" Theresa giggled, squeezing tighter.
"Mary...Give one second..." Evans said into the receiver.
He scooped her up effortlessly, holding her close.
"Hey baby! How you doing?" he said, switching into a pitch-perfect Joey-from-Friends impression that made Theresa giggle.
They walked farther into the ho until Irene stepped out. Her hair was tied up with a silk scarf. Evans transferred Theresa into her arms before leaning in to kiss Irene on the forehead.
"I’m back, Mary. What’s up?" he said into the phone again.
"Sylvia is headed to New York. She has been going crazy over Ivy’s engagent news and she booked a flight. She is going to tell Winn," Mary said.
"What the fuck!!! How the hell did she know about Ivy’s engagent?" he snapped. Irene whipped her head around sharply. She shot him a glare. Irene quickly shifted Theresa on her hip and covered their daughter’s ears with both hands, giving Evans the kind of look that ant choose your next words carefully or die tonight.
"I told her."
Evans closed his eyes. The disappointnt was instant. Heavy. "...Why? Why the hell would you do that?"
He lowered his voice out of respect for the little girl in the room, but the anger simred visibly.
Irene walked away with Theresa as he stepped out onto the patio.
"It slipped out. I was excited." Mary said, sounding guilty now.
"Well, congratulations," Evans muttered sarcastically. "Your excitent just opened the gates of hell."
He leaned against the patio railing, staring out at the dim garden lights flickering over Irene’s rose bushes. His heartbeat thrumd with dread.
"Has she left?" he asked.
"No," Mary said on the line. "She will be leaving in the morning."
Evans shut his eyes. "Stall her. By any ans necessary. I’ll be in Canada first thing in the morning. Mary, please." He didn’t wait for her response; he hung up, exhaling a sharp breath as he leaned a hand on the patio railing.
He walked back into the house, shoulders tight, fingers sliding anxiously through his hair. "Shit!" he muttered under his breath.
"Evans! Will you stop that!" Irene snapped.
"I’m sorry, babe." He lifted both hands in surrender. Even in the tension, he couldn’t help but admire how gorgeous she looked.
"Why are you so mad at Mary anyway?"
"Nothing... just..." His heartbeat was a drum in his ears. Irene was the one person he had never wanted to hide anything from. "Babe... I have to go see her tomorrow morning."
"What’s going on, Evans? You’ve been sneaky with Mary since she left the country."
"Babe... I cannot tell you. At least not yet."
Her eyebrows shot up. "Do you want to sleep on the couch for the rest of your life?"
He winced. "Babe, co on. It’s not—"
"Start talking, Mr."
Evans swallowed. This was it. The secret he’d been carrying so tightly it felt welded to his ribs. "Elizabeth is alive."
Silence. Thick, choking silence. Irene stared at him, mouth parted slightly, eyes wide with shock.
At first she thought she misheard. "Elizabeth... which Elizabeth?"
He stepped closer, reaching for her hand, but she stepped back, needing the space. Needing the truth to settle. "Ivy’s baby."
Irene gasped, pressing a hand to her stomach. "Where... where is she?"
Evans exhaled a long, heavy breath. He had dreaded this mont, but relief washed through him at finally speaking it aloud. "I sent her with Mary and Sylvia to Canada just until this madness with Tom and the inheritance problem is solved."
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