Crash

CHAPTER FOUR: EVIE

The sound of a second male voice makes me turn in my seat. "It's good to see you, Gram."

The man with the deep southern drawl walks over to Mrs. Jenkins and leans over to give her a peck on the cheek. In theory, he looks like Alex with dark hair and dark eyes, but on him, the features look a bit smarmy. I think it's the angle of his mouth, like he's perpetually smirking.

"Dear, this is my other grandson, Beau. Since I was stopping by here at headquarters, I thought I'd invite Beau to attend so I could speak with both of my favorite grandsons."

So, this was Alex's rival. "Oh, hi. I'm Evie Cooper."

He extends his hand and I almost think he's going to kiss my fingers, but instead, he shakes them like I'm a child. "A pleasure."

"What are you doing here?" Mrs. Jenkins asks him.

"Dad told me you were here, so I thought I'd pop in. Where's the big guy?"

"He's making us cocktails." She gestures toward the door leading to the small room, where Alex is. I'm acutely aware that the office smells like coffee, the stuff I spilled.

"Let me go say hey." Beau strides across the room and disappears behind the door.

I glance at Mrs. Jenkins, who chortles. "My grandsons are two years apart."

"How nice," I say blandly.

"Beau's the older of the two, and he's married. His wife is pregnant."

"Very nice." This all seems so odd, this family gathering on a random Thursday evening at the office.

She lets out a sigh. "I wish Alex would settle down like Beau."

"Mmm." I test the pen on the pad of paper. It barely works, and I scrawl a second, then a third, circle. All I want is for this night to be over, and to burrow into my bed with a book

I smile patiently at Mrs. Jenkins, who chortles as she says something about Alex's prior girlfriends. Good lord, how many women has he dated?

"You're far prettier." She looks me up and down, as if she's appraising a piece of furniture. "Even prettier than Rose."

Who's Rose? My curiosity is instantly piqued. "Thanks?" I say, then focus on the legal pad, where I write the date in careful block letters.

I keep an eye on Mrs. Jenkins, though, because I get the feeling she's unpredictable, like a wild horse. She's wearing some sort of gold lamé dress and tall black boots, which seems odd for a business meeting. Or the opera. Her lips are pink, her hair is black, and everything about her sparkles. Not in a bad way, but in a rich-lady-bling kind of way.

This evening grows stranger by the second. I swallow a lump of discomfort at how I'd challenged Alex for extra overtime. Probably a bad move, but something about him made me want to act a little more bold than usual. As if he wanted me to stand up to him. Weird.

And the way we stared at each other before his grandmother walked in made my body feel like it was on fire from the inside out. My heart still hasn't recovered. I scratch my wrist and press my fingers to the underside, where the vein is. As I thought: my blood is racing.

Asking for overtime pay was out of character. But I have the distinct feeling that he thought I should stay and pretend to be his secretary for free, and that irks me. He has all the money in the world and wanted to take advantage of my time. Lately I've been thinking about how some people have so much, while the rest of us spend our precious time catering to the people with everything.

Time I don't have. I could be hanging out with my sister before she goes away to camp, then to college. If losing Mom and Dad taught me anything, it's that life is short and that we should spend as many moments as possible with the people we love. The fact that Sabrina's leaving soon makes me proud of her, and a little despondent that I won't have her hilarious—and sometimes annoying—self in my daily life.