Page 3 of Her Ruin

Sienna air-kissed me on both cheeks. I hated that, but I bit my tongue and waited until it was over. I hurried to my office, which was just two blocks away. My heels clicked sharply against the sidewalk as I navigated the pedestrian traffic of downtown Gracemont on a Monday morning.

Downtown was a historic area with older architecture. It was an almost quaint part of town with old brick buildings housing a variety of stores from boutiques to coffee spots and bars. It was lively during the day but also had an active nightlife with a scattering of clubs throughout the two blocks that made up the area.

Clubs. Like the building on Hardgate that was being renovated? Rumor had it that it was going to be a new elite nightclub.

Sienna was also late with her gossip. I’d heard Zayn was in town last week, and one of my colleagues had taken great pleasure in sharing the information.

“Have you heard Zayn McCabe is in town?” she’d asked, her voice brimming with gossip.

I’d stiffened at the name. “Why would I care?” I’d replied flatly, not bothering to look up from my computer.

“Oh, come on, don’t act like you don’t remember him,” she teased. “TheZayn McCabe? Tall, broody, kind of a dick? Everyone thought he was trouble back in the day. Then there was the whole sudden move away. Why do you think he’s back?”

I’d feigned indifference even as the words rattled me. “I don’t knoworcare,” I’d muttered, keeping my focus on my screen.

Monica hadn’t let up. “Wasn’t he Julian’s friend? I thought you’d be excited to know he’s back?”

“He wasJulian’sfriend.” I’d looked up from my computer. “Not mine.”

Monica got the hint, but her words had stuck with me, lingering long after she’d walked away, not bothering to hide her smirk.

Zayn was a guy I didn’t like. HewasJulian’s friend—much to my disapproval, then and now—but that didn’t mean he was mine or that I had anything to do with him. But I knew he now had money. I didn’t lose sleep over where he got his income, but I knew he was wealthy, and I doubted he’d earned it all legally.

Biting my lip, I wondered about the renovation of the old building. There’d been plenty of speculation in the office about what it was being renovated for, and last I’d heard, the plans were still being discussed with the planning department.

I’d walked briskly through the muggy streets of downtown, and I couldn’t stop replaying the conversation. The idea of Zayn owning a club in Gracemont meant he’d be back in town. Alot. I didn’t care that it implied he was the silent partner—the man could not avoid the limelight. He’d always been the center of attention; it didn’t matter that he was rough around the edges or thrived on pushing boundaries.

The thought of him running something as polished and legitimate as a nightclub didn’t fit my image of him.

But then again, it wasn’t like I’d ever really known him. Not beyond the surface, anyway.

And I didn’t need to know him now I reminded myself firmly.

Still, as I reached the steps of my building, the pull of curiosity tugged at me. It wasn’t about him. It was about the club. It wasbusiness. If Gracemont’s elite were going to be flocking to this place, it was only a matter of time before someone tried to book an event there.

And I did know him. More than I liked to admit…even to myself.

He was my best friend’s…friend. Zayn and I did not get along at all, but knowing the space and meeting the owner was practical.

It was myjob.

Plucking my phone out of my purse, I scrolled through my contacts and hit Julian’s name before I could talk myself out of it.

He answered on the second ring. He always did.

“Hey, Isla.” Julian’s voice was warm and familiar.

“Hey,” I replied, hitting the button on the elevator door. “Got a second?”

“For you? Always,” he replied, and I could hear the faint smile in his tone.

Julian had always been that way—steady and reliable. Despite Sienna’s teasing and the pointless wishes of both of our families, our relationship was purely platonic because Julian Turner was the brother I’d never had.

Growing up, when things felt overwhelming or when I needed someone to remind me to breathe, it had always been Julian. He had this way of absorbing the worst of the world and returning calm.

“I was wondering,” I started, unsure how to bring it up, as the elevator doors opened to the floor of my office. “But, um...have you talked to Zayn lately?”

“Zayn?” His voice tightened just slightly. “Why?”

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