Page 92 of Impossible Love

“Move faster,” she says. “And stop staring at my ass.”

She makes a sharp left at Evander’s drive, then marches up the steps, stomps across his porch, and bangs on his door like she’s trying to bore a hole clear through. “Open up, grump!” She keeps pounding, bam, bam, bam!

“For fuck’s sake, Victoria. Are you nuts? We don’t lock our doors around here.” I reach around her and open the door. She screams.

“Hey!”

I push her behind me. Evander’s standing there with a firearm pointed at our faces, eyes calm and deadly. “Holy fuckin’ shit, man! Put that thing away!”

He replaces the safety on his weapon and shoves the revolver into the waistband of his pants. That’s when I notice that he's barefoot, balancing on his good leg, and wearing nothing but a Navy T-shirt and threadbare pajama bottoms.

“Put some pants on, Evander.”

“Ever hear of calling ahead?” He bunny hops to his bedroom, holding up his pants so they don’t fall to his ankles. “It’s not like I was expecting to entertain this evening!” He slams the door.

Victoria makes herself right at home, walking through the living room and sliding into a dining room chair. She immediately sets up her laptop and places a fresh legal pad and pen to her right. I have absolutely no idea what is about to go down or why she’s decided it needs to take place in Evander’s dining room. I don’t bother to ask, since she probably won’t tell me.

Evander hops his way back to the dining room and falls into a chair across from Victoria. “What’s up?” He notices the laptop and looks at me.

“I got no idea, man.”

“First thing, you should call your brothers and ask them to join us.” Victoria waits for someone to make a move. “Go on. Call them.”

“But not Jamie?”

“Not right now.”

“Ooo-kay.” I start making calls. Declan and Special K are on their way, but Finn says he has to take Jasmine to Phyllis first and will get there as soon as possible.

“Coffee?” Evander asks her.

“Maybe later.”

Only then do I realize how frazzled Victoria looks—more disheveled and stressed than I’ve ever seen her. Her eyes are like big, shiny green marbles. Her hair is as unruly and wild as a banshee’s. Her shirt is untucked and wrinkled.

She leans forward in her chair and takes a big breath. “Evander, you handle all the contracts and business dealings with the ranch, correct?”

“Yeah, Cal and I do.”

She glances at me, like she forgot I was standing next to her. “Right. Anyway, the first thing I need to see is the contract I negotiated on your behalf. And if possible, I’d like a hard copy.”

“Sure thing.” Evander hops off and is gone for no more than two minutes. They’re minutes in which Victoria pretends I don’t exist. He returns and puts the contract on the table next to her.

As she reads, her jaw clenches. Her hand trembles. But all she says is, “Thank you, Evander. This explains quite a bit.” She flashes her eyes at me before she continues. “I’d like to start by asking a few questions. My first is, when did you all move away?”

Evander props his broken leg on a nearby chair. “You want dates?”

“Yes. For college or the Naval Academy or the actual Navy—wherever you all went when you finished high school, when did you start leaving the ranch?” She grabs her pen and holds it above the pad of paper.

“Uh, well, I was the first to go,” I say. “That was nearly twenty years ago.”

“And then the rest followed, with about two years in between,” Evander says. “So it was Cal, then Finn, me, Declan, and Special K.”

“Got it.” She’s writing this down, for some reason. “And you moved back here, as a group, about two years ago, you said?”

“Yeah.” Evander looks at me with an expression that says What the fuck is this about? All I can do is shrug.

“And when was your most recent valuation on Yosemite Ranch?”

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