Page 112 of It's Always Been You
My fist closes around the box before I slide it back into my pocket. I was going to give it to Evie as a Christmas gift, but I never got the chance after the chaos of Maggie’s fall.
Which is why I’m here, hoping Evie will be in attendance tonight.
I’m about to ring the doorbell again when the door flies open. Yolanda squeals and holds her champagne flute away from her body as she waves me inside. “Brandon! I’m so glad you’re here. Apparently, Jamie and Rebecka aren’t able to make it tonight. Hopefully that means they’re welcoming anewborn as we speak!”
Surprised, I pull out my phone. No missed calls or texts. Weird. When Rebecka was in labor with Isabelle, Jamie called me at the first sign of a contraction. Hoping all is well, I shoot him a text as Yolanda takes my coat and disappears.
When she returns, she guides me through the busy foyer into the living room. The place is packed.I can hardly hear Yolanda yapping over the sound of the holiday music as she introduces me to her friends. I scan the room while I make small talk with them, searching for Evie. Clusters of people are standing around cocktail tables flickering with votive candles, chatting with one another over beverages.
Not one of them is Evie.
In the corner of the room, a Christmas tree covered in fake snow reaches toward the white, vaulted ceiling like a finger; it must clear at least ten feet. Next to it is a mini bar. Eager to make my escape, I excuse myself from the circle of older women flocking around me and head in that direction.
I order a ginger ale and take a seat near the fireplace, settling into the leather recliner to enjoy one of my favorite pastimes—people watching. One of the many reasons I became a psychiatrist is because I love people. Talking to them. Hearing their stories. Observing them. Helping them overcome their mental health struggles. But ultimately, I love trying to understand how the mind works and why we all do the things we do. Human nature fascinates me.
One person in particular fascinates me the most, and I sit up when I spot her entering the house with Adam. My chest tightens with jealousy as Evie beams up at him, looking genuinely pleased to be here with him tonight.
My jaw almost hits the floor when Adam pulls her coat away, unveiling her outfit. She looks . . . there are no words. She’s wearing the tiniest black suede dress that hugs every inch of her beautiful body. Her toned, tan legs are completely bare, and she’s paired the look with a pair of killer strappy black heels. Her dark silky hair is pin straight, hanging down her back so it brushes against her waist. And her makeup . . . it’s dark and dramatic—just how I like it.
My mouth goes dry at the sight of her, then pinches into a flat line. Every man with a beating heart won’t be able to take his eyes off her tonight. I have half a mind to go grab her, throw her over my shoulder, and haul her out of the house.
When Adam slips his hand around her waist and pulls her close like he’s proud to show her off, I’ve had enough. I’m feeling more than a little territorial right now. I made my intentions with Evie perfectly clear the other night, and yet here she is, spending New Year’s Eve with another man—one who used to be her fiancé, no less. And that’safterignoring my calls and texts.
I down the last of my drink, drop the glass onto the table, and rise. I’m about to cross the room and stake my claim like a barbarian when a hand slides up my arm.
Confused, I glance down.
“Hey, handsome.”
I recognize the cloying, pungent scent of my former assistant’s perfume before I realize it’s her. Piper’s hot pink fingernails curl around my bicep as her other hand slides up my chest. Stiffening, I lean away from her. Not only does she smell like a cloud of cheap cotton candy, but her pupils are dilated and her breath smells like gin.
“Long time no see,” she purrs, grinning. She has lipstick on her front tooth. “How are you doing? I bet the practice is falling apart without me.” The hand resting against my chest curls around my tie. She gives it a small tug, pulling me closer.
“Piper,” I warn, plucking her fingers from my tie one by one and stepping back. “It’s good to see you. But I was just about to say hello to someone, so if you’ll excuse me . . .”
She pouts. “Oh, come on. Stay and chat for a minute.”
Frowning, I give her a once-over. This woman almost ruined my professional reputation by spreading a rumor that we’d slept together. “No, thanks.”
She presses a hand to her heart. “Ouch, Dr. Wright. That hurts.”
“Look, Piper, it was great seeing you, but if you’ll excuse me—”
The soft conversational jazz music abruptly changes to “Last Christmas”by Wham. Piper grabs my hand and gives it a violent tug, attempting to guide me toward a raised stage where several people have gathered to dance. “Dance with me!”
Horrified, I recoil from her, bumping into the coffee table as I stumble back. Fortunately, some other sucker has grabbed her attention. Relieved, I retreat to the bar.
I’m nursing a drink and wishing I was anywhere but here when someone jostles my shoulder affectionately. I turn around to discover it’s Yolanda’s husband, Cramer. “Brandon. I’m glad you made it tonight. How are you doing?”
“Oh, you know,” I say, lifting my whiskey tumbler. But Cramer’s attention has already diverted to someone standing behind me. “Angela—this is the single doctor I was telling you about. Brandon, Angela. Angela, Brandon.” Cramer gestures for Angela to take the seat next to me. She does, smiling as Cramer winks then slips away.
Great.
Her dark blue eyes are dauntless as they fixate on mine. In a past life, I’d eat that right up. “A doctor, huh?” she muses, just before the bartender appears. She orders a dirty martini. I don’t miss the way she glances at my left hand when she thinks I’m not looking, searching for a ring she won’t find.
There might as well be a ring on my finger, though. I’m bound to Evie in irrevocable ways.
“What kind of doctor?”
