Page 54 of Big Balls
“Mr. Deveraux,” I start, “I need to speak with Zoe. Please.”
His face tightens, but he doesn’t make any more moves toward hitting me, so that’s an improvement at least.
“I came here to tell her that she doesn’t have to go to California to have the life she wants. She can get a job right here in New Orleans that will make her happy. I promise.”
His eyebrows slide up, and he gives me a look that almost seems like pity. But why would this man who very clearly wants to flatten me directly into the ground feel sorry for me?
I reach over and take Katy’s hand in mine. “Please. I won’t stay or do anything else to make her sad this time. I promise.”
Katy shoves herself against me. “Don’t write checks with your mouth that your ass can’t cash, daddy.”
Zoe’s father laughs in spite of himself. “This must be Katy. Zoe’s told me all about you. Please come in.” He steps back and gestures for my daughter to enter, as if he’s her own private doorman.
He gives me another of those looks, like he’s going to have to give me bad news. “You better come in, too.”
I swear we sit in his living room for three years while Katy tells him everything she likes about Zoe. She lists every single seed that was planted in their garden, and then starts in about a dream she had about Zoe.
I hold up my hand. “I don’t mean to be rude about it, but do you think it would be possible for us to talk to Zoe? It’s a bit urgent, and I want to give her some time to think about things before her flight leaves.”
His face shifts again. It’s definitely pity.
Then he stares at me levelly, as if daring me to react. “You’re too late. She’s already gone to the airport. She left on an earlier flight.”
18
Zoe
I spenta tremendous amount of my time trying not to want Ethan Alexander to show up at my home and tell me he’d made a terrible mistake. I would have been into a dramatic airport scene too, honestly.
But he keeps his word to me, because of course he does. Ethan Alexander is nothing if not consistent. Consistently a bastard, that is.
California is beautiful, objectively speaking. The weather is warm and sunny even though it’s winter, and every single person I’ve seen is gorgeous. Tall and athletic and seemingly very happy just to be here.
I should be happy to be here, too. But instead I’m lying on a lumpy daybed and feeling very sorry for myself. Why? Because Ethan Alexander kept his word to me and left me alone.
Our two nights together have been at the foundation of every single daydream that is consuming me whenever I don’t force my mind to other topics.
The social structure of ants, for instance. The etymology of the word natatorium. The history of merkins. Last meals of murderers who were executed on death row.
Literally anything other than the giant wretched ache in my chest because it’s over. I chide myself for my wayward thoughts. There was never anything between me and Ethan Alexander, so there’s nothing that should be hurting this badly. How can it be over when it never even began?
I sit up from the mattress when there’s a knock at my door. It’s probably my upstairs neighbors, who I’m pretty sure I heard either having sex or fighting earlier. Possibly both. I plaster a smile on my face and open the door.
But on the other side are three tall and imposing men I don’t know, each in a fancy suit. Am I about to be murdered or recruited for a secret government agency?
The one in the front frowns at me. “Don’t open your door to strangers. That’s how women get murdered.”
I recoil at his words, and the guy next to him smacks him. “Don’t mind Sebastian. He’s been like this for as long as we’ve known him. It grows on you eventually.”
I narrow my eyes at the men. “I doubt it.” I fold my arms in front of myself, acutely aware that I don’t have any weapons on hand or any realistic way to defend myself against the men who are now looming in my doorway.
“Well? Are you vampires or something? Do I need to formally invite you in?” I back up but stand in the middle of the kitchen, my hip pressed against the countertop. I don’t turn my back on them as they enter my little apartment single file.
The one with the long hair and the bright red fingernails seems the friendliest. I shift my attention to him. “You obviously know who I am.”
There is a general shuffling among them, but finally the man in front of me nods. “You’re Zoe Deveraux, former nanny to Ethan Alexander. I’m Tate, this is Jackson, and you’ve already met Sebastian.”
My eyes slide along their faces as Tate introduces them to me. There’s something familiar about them, but I don’t know anybody like them. Except—
