Reunited with the Lassiter Bride

“We make a good team, you and me.”

“You’re drunk, Evan.”

“Maybe a little.”

“Your judgment is impaired.”

“My judgment is perfect. You’re incredible, Angie. And I wanted you just as badly sober as I do now.”

Before she realized what was happening, his lips were on hers. Magic exploded inside her brain, colors flashing, music playing, the taste of Evan overwhelming her senses. The kiss went on for long minutes before he finally pulled back.

She was breathless, and not nearly as horrified as she ought to have been. She had to get it together here.

“That did not demonstrate good judgment, Evan,” she told him tartly, holding out her hand for the car keys.

He just grinned and dropped the keys into her palm. “Sure it did.”

* * *

Reunited with the Lassiter Bride is a Dynasties: The Lassiters novel: A Wyoming legacy of love, lies and redemption!

Reunited with the Lassiter Bride

Barbara Dunlop

www.millsandboon.co.uk

BARBARA DUNLOP writes romantic stories while curled up in a log cabin in Canada’s far north, where bears outnumber people and it snows six months of the year. Fortunately she has a brawny husband and two teenage children to haul firewood and clear the driveway while she sips cocoa and muses about her upcoming chapters. Barbara loves to hear from readers. You can contact her through her website, www.barbaradunlop.com.

For my sisters, with love.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

One

There were days when Evan McCain wished he’d never met the Lassiter family. Today was definitely one of them. Thanks to J. D. Lassiter, at thirty-four years old, Evan was starting his professional life all over again.

He pushed open the door to his empty storefront office building in Santa Monica. By rights, he should have sold the compact building two years ago after moving to Pasadena, but it was only a block from the beach and the investment value was solid. As things turned out, he was very glad he’d kept it.

He had no intention of touching any of the money left to him by J.D. The bequest in his former boss’s will felt like a payoff for Evan’s unwitting participation in J.D.’s complex scheme to test his daughter Angelica, Evan’s ex-fiancée. She’d eventually passed the test, proving she could balance her work and her life, and replaced Evan at the helm of Lassiter Media. But she’d failed Evan in the process, ending both their romantic relationship and his employment at Lassiter Media.

He dropped his suitcase in the reception area, hit the overhead lights and moved to the counter to test the telephone. He got a dial tone and mentally checked off two steps in his implementation plan. He had electricity, and he was connected to the outside world. Those were the basics.

The blinds on the glass door rattled as someone opened it behind him.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” It was the voice of his long-time friend Deke Leamon.

Evan turned, blinking against the streaming sunlight, baffled to see Deke silhouetted in his doorway. “What on earth are you doing on the West Coast?”

Deke grinned, dropping a red duffel bag on the vinyl reception seat beside Evan’s suitcase. He was dressed in faded jeans, a Mets T-shirt, and a pair of scruffy hikers. “We did it before. We can do it again.”

Evan stepped forward to shake his former college roommate’s hand. “Do what again? Seriously, why didn’t you call? And how did you know I’d be here?”

“Educated guess,” said Deke. “I figured there’d be too many memories in Pasadena. This seemed like the logical place. I assume you’re going to live upstairs for a while?”

“Good guess,” said Evan.

The upstairs apartment was small, but he’d make it work. He needed an immediate and total change of scenery. Luckily, despite its proximity to downtown L.A., Santa Monica had a personality all its own.

“Figured you might be feeling sorry for yourself,” Deke continued. “So, I thought I’d wander over and give you a kick in the ass.”

“I’m not feeling sorry for myself,” said Evan.

Life was what it was, and no amount of complaining or wishing would change it to something else. It was a hard lesson, but he’d learned long ago that he could roll with the punches. On his seventeenth birthday to be exact, he’d realized just how resilient he could be.

“And you don’t wander,” he finished.

His friend was contemplative and deliberate in every action he undertook. Deke didn’t do anything on a whim. Now, he dropped into one of the vinyl chairs and stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles.

“Okay, so I flew here on purpose.” He glanced around the empty office space. “Thought I could probably lend a hand.”

Evan leaned back against the reception countertop, bracing himself and raising a challenging brow. “Lend a hand doing what, exactly?”

“Whatever needs doin’.” Deke glanced around the office. “So, what’s the plan? What happens first?”

“The phones are up and running.” Evan realized that he was still holding the cordless receiver, and he set it down.

“Good start. You got any leads? Got a website?”

Evan was both touched and amused by what he knew Deke was doing. “You don’t need to be here.”

“I want to be here. I left Colby in charge at Tiger Tech. Told him I’d be back in a month or so.”

Colby Payne was a young, innovative genius who’d been Deke’s second in command for two years.

“That’s ridiculous.” Evan wasn’t about to let Deke make that kind of sacrifice. “I don’t need your pity. Even if I wanted you here—which I don’t—you’ve got a business to run.”

Deke’s massive technological prototyping facility in Chicago was filled with everything from computerized lathes to 3D printers. It helped budding innovators turn their ideas into commercial products. His unique brand of savvy and entrepreneurship had launched dozens of success ventures.

Deke shrugged. “I was getting bored. I haven’t taken a vacation in two years.”

“Go to Paris or Hawaii.”

Deke grinned. “I’d go stir-crazy in Hawaii.”

“You’ve seen the tourism photos, right? The surf, the sand, the girls in bikinis?”

“There are girls in bikinis right here in Santa Monica.”

“I can take care of myself, Deke.”

Sure, it was a blow, summarily losing his job with Lassiter Media when J.D.’s will codicil kicked in and gave control of the company to Evan’s ex-fiancée Angelica. But he was already on the road to recovery.

“Don’t you remember how much fun we had?” Deke asked. “You, me, Lex, holed up in that crappy apartment in Venice Beach, worrying about student debt while we tried to build a business?”

“It was fun when we were twenty-three.”

“It’ll be fun again.”

“We failed,” Evan noted.

Instead of getting rich, the three of them ended up going their separate ways. Deke went into technology, Evan into business management, while Lex Baldwin was rising fast in the ranks of Asanti International, a luxury hotel chain.

“Yeah, but we’re way smarter now.”

Evan couldn’t stop a chopped laugh. “All evidence to the contrary?”

“Okay, I’m smarter now.”

“I want to be completely on my own this time,” said Evan.

He’d enjoyed working with J. D. Lassiter. The man was a genius. But he’d also turned out to be a manipulative old schemer. Family came first for J.D., always. And since Evan wasn’t family, he’d ended up as collateral damage when J.D. had set out to test the loyalty of his daughter.

Not that Evan blamed anyone for supporting their own family. If he’d had a family, he’d have supported them through thick and thin. But he had no brothers or sisters. And his parents had died in a car accident the day he turned seventeen.

He’d planned to have children with Angelica. He wanted a big family, big enough that none of them would ever have to be alone. But that obviously wasn’t going to happen now.

“I’ve got your back,” Deke told him, his tone low and sincere as he scrutinized Evan’s expression.

“I don’t need anybody to have my back.”

“Everybody needs somebody.”

“I thought I had Angie.” As soon as the words were out, Evan regretted them.

“But you didn’t.”

“I know.”

Angie had seemed like the woman of Evan’s dreams. But she’d bolted at the first sign of trouble. She’d turned her back on him and everybody else, isolating herself, refusing to trust him or her family.

“Better you found out before the wedding.”

“Sure,” Evan agreed, because it was the easiest thing to do.

Secretly, he couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if J.D. had passed away after the wedding. As his wife, would Angie have tried any harder to trust him?

“She’s out of your life, Evan.”

“I know that.”

“You don’t look like a man who knows that.”

“I’ve got my head on straight. It’s over. I get that. I’m here in Santa Monica because it’s over.”

Maybe Evan would find someone else someday. Not that he could imagine when, how or who. If Angie wasn’t the real thing, he couldn’t fathom who was.

“I’m going to hold you to that,” said Deke, coming to his feet, rubbing his hands together. “Okay, first up, we get your business back on its feet. At the very least, your accomplishments at Lassiter Media will impress future clients.”

“They will be impressed,” Evan agreed. They’d be impressed with what he’d accomplished there. Some might even be impressed that he’d walked away.

* * *

Angelica Lassiter needed a fresh start. If there was a Reset button for life, she’d press it right now.

She’d fought with her family over her father’s will for five long months, only to discover J.D. had a master plan all along to test her ability to balance work with life. Although he’d first seemed to hand it to Evan, in the end, her father had given her exactly what she longed for: control of Lassiter Media. But she wasn’t proud of the way she’d fought for it. And she wasn’t proud of the way she’d treated Evan.

It was bad enough that she’d pushed her ex-fiancé away while she fought for her heritage. But she’d accused him of lying to her, of betraying her and conspiring to steal her inheritance. She’d been wrong on all counts, but there was no way to take it back.

“Ms. Lassiter?” Her administrative assistant appeared in the doorway of the empty boardroom.

“Yes, Becky.” Angelica turned from where she was gazing across the heart of downtown L.A.

“The decorators are here.”

Angelica squared her shoulders and gave her assistant a determined nod. “Thanks, Becky. Please show them in.”

Angelica knew her decision to renovate the top floor of the Lassiter building and relocate the CEO’s office was going to cause a lot of talk within the company. But she also knew it was her only option.

Maybe if the power transition had gone smoothly she could have moved directly into her father’s office. After all, she’d been at the helm in all but title prior to her father’s death. But with the original will leaving control to Evan, the transition had been anything but smooth. And now she needed to put her own stamp on Lassiter Media. She’d decided to convert the top floor boardroom into her own office and turn her father’s office into a boardroom.

“Angelica.” Suzanne Smith entered the room first, followed by her partner Boswell Cruz. “It’s so good to see you again.”

Suzanne’s expression and tone were professional, but she couldn’t quite hide the curiosity lurking in her eyes. The Lassiter family’s troubles had been all over the media these past months. Angelica couldn’t really blame Suzanne for wondering what would happen next.

“Thanks for coming on such short notice,” said Angelica, moving forward to shake both of their hands. “Hello, Boswell.”

“Nice to see you again, Angelica,” he returned.

“Tell me how we can help you,” said Suzanne. Her expression invited confidence.

“I’d like to build new office. For me. Right here.”

Suzanne waited for a moment, but Angelica didn’t offer anything more.

“Okay,” said Suzanne, gazing around at the polished beech wood paneling and the picture windows on two sides of the room. “I have always loved this space.”

“It’ll give me some extra light in the morning,” said Angelica, repeating the rationale she’d decided to use for the move.

“Light is good.”

“And J.D.’s old office is closer to the floor’s reception area, so it’ll make a more convenient boardroom.” It was another perfectly plausible excuse that had nothing to do with Angelica’s real reasons for making the switch.

Boswell had a tablet in his hand and was already making notes.

“Anything in particular you want to keep from J.D.’s office?” asked Suzanne. “Furniture pieces? Art?”

“Nothing,” said Angelica.

The twitch of Suzanne’s mouth betrayed her surprise at the answer.

“Maybe keep the historic Big Blue mural,” Angelica added, rethinking the sweeping decision. “It can hang in the new boardroom.”

The painting of the Lassiter ranch in Wyoming had hung in J.D.’s office for over a decade. Moving it would cause talk and speculation, possibly even more speculation than Angelica’s moving her office to the opposite end of the thirtieth floor.

She wasn’t turning her back on her roots. And, despite what the tabloids had surmised, she had forgiven her father. Or at least she would forgive her father, eventually, though maybe not all at once. Emotionally, she had to sort some things through first.

“That’s it?” asked Suzanne. Her tone was neutral, but it didn’t quite mask her surprise. Some of J.D.’s pieces were very valuable antiques.

“We can put the rest in storage.”

“Certainly. Did you have any initial thoughts on your office?”

“Lots of natural light,” said Angelica. “I like the fresh feel of the atrium, so plants for sure. Not ultra-modern, no chrome or anything. And I don’t want bright white. But definitely lighter tones, neutrals, earth tones perhaps.” She paused. “Am I making any sense?”

“This is all good,” Suzanne assured her. “It gives us a nice starting point. Now, you’ve got plenty of room in here. You’ll want a desk area, a meeting table, and a lounge area. Would you like us to include a wet bar? A private washroom?”

“Only if you can do it discreetly. I want it to look like a business office, not a playboy’s downtown loft.”

Suzanne’s alarm showed on her face. “Oh, no. It won’t look anything like that.”

“It would be nice to be able to offer refreshments.”

“Done,” said Suzanne. “And we’ll make it discreet, I promise.”

The door opened and Becky appeared again. “Ms. Lassiter? Sorry to interrupt. But your three o’clock is here.”

“We’ll get out of your way,” said Suzanne. “Would the end of the week be soon enough for some mock-ups?”

“End of the week is fine,” said Angelica.

She’d rather have the mock-ups in the next ten minutes, but patience was one of the characteristics she was practicing at the moment. Patience, composure and a work-life balance.

Before his sudden death, her father had complained that she worked too hard, that she needed balance in her life. When he’d taken away her position at Lassiter through his will, she’d been forced to reevaluate her balance.

She’d made progress, and she’d promised herself to give it a fair shot. She was even thinking about taking up a hobby, and maybe a sport. Yoga, perhaps. People who did yoga seemed very serene.

“We’ll be in touch,” said Suzanne as she and Boswell left the boardroom.

The door closed behind them, and Angelica took a moment to focus on her composure. Her next meeting was with her close friend Kayla Prince. Kayla was engaged to Lassiter Media account executive Matt Hollis, so she’d been along for the ride on the family discord over the past five months.

Angelica knew that many of the Lassiter Media executives worried she’d put the company at risk by working with corporate raider Jack Reed and attempting to contest the will. And her recent single-minded focus on regaining control of the company meant she hadn’t seen much of Kayla or any of her other friends. She could only imagine what Kayla might have heard from Matt at the height of the conflict.

So, when the door opened again, she was ready for anything. But Kayla surprised her, rushing through the door and quickly pulling her into a warm hug.

“I’m so glad it’s over,” said Kayla. She drew back to peer at Angelica. “You okay now? Congratulations. You deserved this all along. You’re going to be a fantastic CEO.”

Angelica’s brain stumbled for a moment, and then a warm rush of relief nearly buckled her knees. She hugged Kayla back. “I’ve missed you so much,” she confessed.

“Whose fault is that?” Kayla asked on a laugh.

“Mine. It’s all my fault. Everything is all my fault.”

Kayla drew back again, this time briskly rubbing Angelica’s upper arms. “Stop. That’s enough. I don’t want to hear you say that again.”

Angelica was about to protest, but then she spotted Tiffany Baines in the doorway. “Tiff?”

Tiffany opened her arms, and Angelica rushed to greet her other close friend.

“Angie,” Tiffany sighed. “It’s so great to see you at the office.”

Angelica took a step back, sobering. “I’ve got a lot of work to do here.” She glanced at Kayla as well. “There are a lot of fences to mend and a whole lot of decisions to make.”

“You’ll do great,” Tiffany stated with conviction. “There’s nobody better than you to run Lassiter Media. The stupid will put you in an impossible position.”

“I could have handled it better,” said Angelica.

“How were you to know it was a test? What if it hadn’t been a test? What if your father had truly lost his mind and left the family company to Evan? You were right to fight it.”

“I think you’re the only person in the world who feels that way,” Angelica said to Tiffany.

“I doubt it. But it doesn’t matter. What matters now is that you’re going to be an amazing success.” A mischievous grin grew on Tiffany’s face, and she shifted her attention to Kayla. “Go ahead. Tell her.”

“Tell me what?” Angelica took in Kayla’s matching, wide grin. “What’s going on?”

“We’ve set a date,” said Kayla.

“For the wedding?”

Kayla nodded.

“That’s fantastic news. When? Where? How big?”

Kayla laughed. “End of September. I know it’s quick. But they had a cancellation at the Emerald Wave. We’ll be oceanfront in Malibu, just like my mother always dreamed we’d be. We can have the ceremony right on the cliff. I know it’ll be spectacular.”

“It sounds perfect,” said Angelica, ignoring the tiny spear of jealousy that tried to pierce her chest.

It was too late for her own fairy-tale wedding. That was simply the reality of it all. And she was genuinely delighted for her friend.

“Now that we’ve finally made plans, I can’t wait to marry Matt.”

“Of course you can’t.”

“I want you to be my maid of honor.”

The jealousy was immediately obliterated by a wave of warmth. Angelica was surprised and touched. “I’d love to be your maid of honor. After everything—” she stopped, gathering her emotions. “You are so sweet to ask.”

“Sweet, nothing. You’re my best friend. You always have been, and you always will be.”

“And I’m going to be a bridesmaid,” sang Tiffany. “We’re going to have a blast.”

“We are,” Angelica agreed, putting conviction into her tone. “This is exactly what I need right now.”

She would forgive her father. And she truly did want to honor his wishes. What could be more conducive to work-life balance than being maid of honor at a wedding?

Kayla’s expression tightened ever so slightly. “There is one small complication.”

“What’s that?”

“Matt is going to ask Evan to be the best man.”

Angelica’s equilibrium faltered.

Evan as the best man, while she was the maid of honor? She and Evan together, dressed to the nines, at a dream wedding with lace, flowers and champagne, but not getting married? For a second, she didn’t think she could do it. She didn’t see how she could survive an event like that.

“Angelica?” Kayla prompted, worry in her tone.

“It’s fine,” said Angelica, her voice only slightly high-pitched. “It’ll be fine.” She gave a little laugh through her fear. “Hey, unless he leaves L.A., we’re going to run into each other eventually. I can handle it. No problem.” She gained determination. “I’m going to be the best maid of honor ever.”

* * *

Angelica’s sanctuary was the rose garden at her family’s mansion in Beverly Hills. She’d had the gazebo built five years ago to take advantage of the quiet, fragrant setting. At the end of a busy day, filled with dozens of meetings and the blare of the television screens that followed the five Lassiter networks, she could settle into one of the padded Adirondack chairs and sip a glass of wine.

It was peaceful out here. She could read through the latest ratings, check reviews on the programming from Lassiter Broadcast System, take note of the successes and failures of the competition, and wrap her head around strategic directions for each of the Lassiter Media networks. It might only be September, but contingency plans for the inevitable January scheduling adjustments were well underway.

She heard footfalls on the brick pathway from the main house and assumed it would be a member of the kitchen staff checking to see if she wanted dinner. She really wasn’t hungry, and she didn’t want to give up the peace of the garden just yet. She’d ask them to hold it for her.

“Hello, Angelica,” came a distinct, male voice that sent a buzz of reaction twisting down her spine. She tightened the grip on her wine glass, whirling her head to see if she was imagining him.

She wasn’t. Evan was standing in the middle of her rose garden, his steel-gray shirt open at the collar, and a pair of faded blue jeans clinging to his hips. His unshaven jaw was set, his hazel eyes dark and guarded.

“Evan?” she responded, memories of the times they spent out here coming to life in her mind. They’d made love more than once in this gazebo, the cool, evening breeze kissing their sweaty skin, the scent of roses wafting over them, the taste of red wine on his lips.

She swiftly set down her wineglass.

He took a couple of steps forward, coming to a halt at the short staircase that led up to the gazebo. “I hope you’re ready to put on your maid-of-honor hat.”

She sat up straighter, taking in his expression. “Why? Does Kayla need something? Is something wrong?”

“Yes, something’s wrong.” He paused. “I’d never show up here unless something was very wrong.”

The disdainful words cut her to the core. He didn’t want to be at the mansion, didn’t want anything more to do with her. She understood that. She’d prefer to stay away from him as well, but not for the same reasons.

They’d been forced into each other’s company on several occasions since the breakup. Through it all, she’d had her anger to shield her. But now, all that was left was embarrassment and guilt.

“You heard Matt and Kayla were delayed in Scotland?” he asked.

She told herself to brazen it out. Evan couldn’t read her mind.

“Yes,” she said. “Matt called in to the office yesterday. He’s taking a few extra days of vacation.”

Matt and Kayla had flown to Edinburgh to take advantage of a last-minute opportunity to secure a significant art exhibit for Kayla’s gallery. As Angelica understood it, after they’d arrived, they’d been told a senior member of the church council had to personally approve some of the pieces leaving the country. They’d been forced to travel to his retreat in the north of the country to meet with him.

“I’ve been trying to call them all day,” Evan continued. “But with the time difference and the spotty cell reception in the countryside, I couldn’t get through. And then I thought to myself, what are they going to do from Scotland anyway except worry? We’ll have to fix it for them from here.”

“Fix what?” She sat up straighter. “What’s wrong, Evan?”

He put his foot on the first stair and braced his hand on a support post, but seemed unwilling to enter the gazebo. “There was a fire at the Emerald Wave.”

“Oh, no. Was it bad?”

“Bad enough. It gutted half the kitchen. Luckily, nobody was hurt.”

Angelica was grateful to hear everyone was safe, but her mind immediately went to Kayla. “We’re only three weeks from the wedding.”

“No kidding.”

“We need to find them a new venue.”

“Are you going to continue stating the obvious?”

She felt her nerves snap to attention. “Are you going to continue being a jerk?”

“Oh, Angie.” His tone was soft, and his use of her nickname sent a new shiver of awareness through her body. “I haven’t even begun being a jerk.”

She reached for her glass of merlot, needing something to fortify her. “What do you want from me, Evan?”

He came up the three steps, filling the doorway to the gazebo with his six-foot-two height. “I need your help. I went to see Conrad Norville today.”

“I don’t understand.” What did movie mogul Conrad Norville have to do with repairing a kitchen?

“To ask if we could use his Malibu mansion for the wedding.”

The explanation set her back for a moment. But she had to admit, it was a good idea.

Conrad Norville owned a monster of a mansion on the Malibu oceanfront. The seventy-something man was renowned for being gruff and eccentric, but his house was acknowledged as an architectural masterpiece.

“It’s the only place anywhere near Malibu that has a hope of fitting all the guests,” said Evan.

“What did he say?”

“He told me, and I’m quoting here, ‘No way in hell am I getting mixed up with that Lassiter circus. I’ve got a reputation to protect.’”

Angelica felt her defenses go up on behalf of her family. “He’s got a reputation to protect?”

“No,” said Evan, his tone admonishing. “He’s got a house we want to borrow.”

“But—”

“Don’t get all high and mighty—”

“I’m not high and mighty.”

“Well, whatever you are, this is no time for you to get into a fight with the man.”

“He already turned you down,” Angelica pointed out. How could it possibly matter if she fought with Norville or not?

“I’m willing to take another run at it,” said Evan. “For Matt and Kayla’s sake.”

The statement made her curious. “You think you can change his mind?”

“I was thinking you could help me change his mind.”

“How could I do that? I’ve barely met him in passing. And it sure doesn’t sound as though he likes my family.”

“I thought we could alleviate his fears, present a united front. Show him there are no hard feelings between us, that the rumors about the power struggle were overblown.”

The rumors weren’t overblown. When her father’s will left control of Lassiter Media to Evan, it had resulted in all-out battle between the two of them. Even now, when they both knew it had been a test of her loyalty, their spirits were battered and bruised, their relationship shattered beyond repair.

But Kayla’s happiness was at stake. Or, more specifically, Kayla’s mother’s happiness was at stake. Angelica was willing to bet that Kayla would marry Matt anywhere. In fact, they’d probably prefer to be married in Cheyenne, where they’d made their home. But Kayla’s mother had been looking forward to this day since Kayla was born. And Kayla would do anything for her family.

“So, you’re asking me to lie?” Angelica stated in a flat, uncompromising tone.

“I’m asking you to lie,” Evan agreed.

“For Kayla and Matt.” That might be one of the few reasons she’d consider it.

“I’d do a lot more than lie for Matt,” said Evan.

She took in the determination on his handsome face. Experience had taught her that he was a formidable opponent who let absolutely nothing stand in his way.

“I shudder to think how far you’d go to get what you want.”

His expression tightened. “Yeah? Well, we both know how far you’ll go, don’t we?”

It was a cutting blow.

“I thought I was protecting my family,” she defended.

When she’d learned of the terms of the will, she couldn’t come up with any explanation except that her father had lost his mind, or that Evan had brazenly manipulated J.D. into leaving him control of Lassiter Media.

“You figured you were right and everyone else was wrong?” he asked.

“It seemed so at the time.”

His steps toward her appeared automatic. “You slept in my arms, told me you loved me, and then accused me of defrauding you out of nearly a billion dollars.”

All the pieces had added up in her mind back then, and they had been damning for Evan. “Seducing me would have been an essential part of your overall plan to steal Lassiter Media.”

“Shows you how little you know about me.”

“I guess it does.”

Even though she was agreeing, the answer seemed to anger him.

“You should have known me. You should have trusted me. My nefarious plan was all inside your suspicious little head. I never made it, never mind executed it.”

“I had no way of knowing that at the time.”

“You could have trusted me. That’s what wives do with their husbands.”

“We never got married.”

“Your decision, not mine.”

They stared at each other for a long moment.

“What do you want me to do?” she finally asked. Then she realized her question was ambiguous. “About Conrad.”

An ironic half smile played on Evan’s lips. “Don’t worry. I know you’d never ask what I wanted you to do about us.”