Page 49 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

She proceeds to tell my mom that Joshua and his family are suing Kane for the assault. Something that’s been kept out of the press so far, but I have no doubt it’ll be making headlines soon.

Mom picks up on Evie’s anguish. “Evie, look at me. It’s going to be okay. Kane’s a good kid. He’s just going through a rough patch.”

“That’s what I thought, too, but I don’t know what to do anymore. The fame… it’s changed him. Some days, I barely recognize my boy.” She sniffles, a mixture of worry and pain bleeding through her voice. “I’ve never seen him like this.”

“Yes, but that’s precisely why you asked him here. To help him.”

“I asked him here because I didn’t know what to do. He refuses to go to rehab. I figured the beach house was the closest thing he had to a connection to his past. Seeing you… seeing Hadley… I’m hoping it’ll help him remember who he is.”

“It will,” Mom says.

My stomach screams at me, and I have no choice but to put an end to my eavesdropping before I get hangry.

Evie’s features light up from the second I turn the corner. “There she is.” She wipes her eyes quickly and clears her throat. “Now, what are we feeling for dinner?”

“Anything. As long as it’s wine,” Mom jokes, but I know she’s only half kidding. Mom hasn’t had an actual vacation in years.

I thought she’d slow down after she sold the store, but she went right from running it to becoming an event planner, on top of working as a virtual assistant on the side.

Evie laughs, opening the wine cooler built into the kitchen island. She grabs the only bottle in there. “Might as well enjoy it. It’s the last one you’re going find in this house for a while.”

I catch on quickly.

She’s Kane-proofed the house, hasn’t she? Alcohol is definitely going to be scarce around here.

“About dinner,” Evie says as soon as she’s poured us both a drink. “Are we feeling takeout, or should I make something?”

I plop down onto a swiveling stool. “You still cook? I kind of figured you’d have a personal chef on speed dial now.”

“Oh, I do, but Kane insisted on getting his own chef here from LA. Sue’s supposed to arrive Monday.”

I was kidding, but okay.

I’m not sure why this surprises me. This is technically nothing new. Evie and Kane had a private chef back when Mr. Wilder was still alive, too, but then he died, and they reverted back into normal people.

For a little while, at least.

Jesus. We really live in completely different worlds now.

Mom and Evie spend the next fifteen minutes trying to agree on a meal, only to end up ordering seafood pizza from Sandy’s, our favorite restaurant in Hillford.

Once she’s put in the order, Evie brings up the country club that just opened in Golden Cove. Word is it’ll be one of the nicest clubs in the state. But here’s the real kicker: Evie’s already secured memberships for both herself and my mom.

Of course, Mom’s first reflex is to turn down her offer and say she can’t accept such a generous gift. Only, Evie is not taking no for an answer, and Mom ends up caving two glasses of wine later.

“Did they say how long the food was going to be?” I ask when the hunger pangs get unbearable.

Evie pours herself another drink. “She said it’d be at least an hour. They’re swamped.”

An hour?

I might eat the purple wallpaper before then.

I push to my feet, fighting a yawn. I spent all of yesterday and today packing up the last of my dorm. “Is it okay if I go take a nap while we wait? I’m exhausted.”

Evie gives a nod. “Of course. We’ll call you when the food’s here.”

I dash up the stairs toward my room, trying—and failing—to wrap my head around how quickly I went from never wanting to see Kane again to having absolutely no choice in the matter.