As Long As I Have You

~ Chapter Twenty Four ~

"Your what?!"

Kirsten immediately stiffened at the strength of Patrick's voice and took an automatic step towards the doorway. Her escape was cut off though when she saw Evan's assistant slide into the room unnoticed by anyone else and then slither back out, shutting the door behind him.

The smirk on his face was evident.

"What kind of stunt is this? Evan, I want answers. Now."

"I must not have been listening. What was the question?"

"Damn it, boy! What the hell did you do? And don't get smart with me either, because you're not leaving here until I know exactly what's going on."

Evan unfurled his arms and tucked his hands into his pockets, defiantly casual. "For the record, I don't appreciate you telling me what to do."

"That's too bloody bad!"

"Maybe I should give you both some privacy," Kirsten inserted hesitantly.

Both men boomed 'No!' and she sat down, instantly glued to her chair. In the next few minutes — or was it hours? — she sat in a daze while explanations and accusations were hurled back and forth like a wicked tennis match. She dipped in and out of her reverie long enough to here snippets of "Carl Travis' daughter" and "seeing each other for awhile" followed by hot inserts of "some ridiculous stunt" and "seems a little too convenient".

"Contrary to what you believe, I do in fact have a personal life, Dad. It's just never been any of your business."

Patrick bristled at the remark, but didn't respond to it. Instead, he turned his eye on Kirsten. His question was for Evan, but he was obviously gauging her reaction over his son's response.

"Do you even have anything in common?"

"Plenty. We both enjoy art. And our families both own large construction companies. Her family isn't as nosy as mine, but at least they support our decision."

"And she knows you're always here? That you never seem to do anything but work?"

He shrugged. "We know each other just fine. I wouldn't have done this if the terms of our relationship were badly negotiated."

Patrick studied both newlyweds with sharply fastidious eyes, and when neither of them spoke he made another irate sound. "You make your marriage sound like a damned corporate contract."

"Which should tell you something. I'm taking this as seriously as I would any contract."

Patrick couldn't argue his logic there. "Why didn't you tell me about her when you came back from San Francisco three weeks ago? Why not use her to buy some time instead of letting me go on and make you sign the agreement?"

"Because it was none of your business," Evan repeated, determined not to take too defensive a stance lest he arouse suspicion. "If I told you about Kirsten you would have called me a liar. Or worse, you would have jumped on me to marry her."

Patrick kept silent.

"I had to come to my own conclusion without you breathing down my neck."

"Jesus. Couldn't you have just gotten engaged?"

My question, too, Kirsten thought, but wisely kept her silence.

"You can't have it both ways, Dad. You either want me married or you don't."

"You know what I want. I'm asking why the rush? Why the midnight run to Las Vegas?"

"Neither of us wanted a long engagement or a big wedding. We're happy and that's all that matters, isn't it?"