The bushes shook, and Evie heard that terrifying, low growl.
“There it is!” she whispered.
To her surprise, Liam dropped his spray-holding arm and let out a sigh.
“What?” she said. “What are you doing?”
“It’s not a bear,” he said, shaking his head.
“What?”
Liam shone his flashlight toward the woods, and Evie gasped at the shining eyes staring at her. Then she finally saw what the eyes were attached to.
A raccoon.
“It’s okay everyone!” Liam called out. “It’s just a raccoon!”
Sitting up on hind legs, the raccoon washed its face with its little paws.
“Aww, he’s so cute,” Joey said. “Can we keep him?”
Evie tromped back to her tent, climbed inside, and got into her sleeping bag, slamming the pillow over her head.
She’d made a decision.
She hated camping.
* * *
Evie was uncharacteristically quiet the next afternoon as Liam drove her back to the Inn. She sat in the passenger seat, looking out the window at the passing scenery and yawning every few minutes. She still had a few little clumps of mud in her hair at the back of her head, but he thought it probably best not to mention it.
She’d seemed okay that morning over breakfast, taking the good natured ribbing about the raccoon incident in stride, and apologizing profusely for waking everyone up. She’d made dream catchers with the scouts, and participated in the animal footprint scavenger hunt that had them all racing through the woods to find the most different kinds of prints.
Which led to more teasing, of course, especially when she found the raccoon prints. Liam didn’t know what to make of it. This woman from New York, a tough-as-nails business professional, a billionaire’s daughter and Executive Vice President in one of the largest real estate companies in the world, was perfectly happy kneeling in the dirt with a bunch of eleven-year-olds arguing over whether a muddy print belonged to a deer or a rabbit.
It didn’t make sense.
And after all of her mishaps, she hadn’t grumbled or demanded to leave, or . . . anything really. She went with the flow, cleaned up in a public restroom, dried her clothes on a rock, and said she was sorry. Evie had apologized to him, personally, several times, embarrassment evident in her pink cheeks and wringing hands.
He didn’t hold anything against her, though. It was something that could happen to anyone when you were out in the wilderness. But it still seemed to bother her, for some reason.
“I don’t think I told you about my first campout,” he said, breaking the silence in the car.
Evie glanced at him. “Did you wake everyone up in the middle of the night screaming because of a raccoon?” she asked wryly.
“Worse.”
At her skeptical look, he continued, “I was about ten. And a bunch of us came with our parents, but we got them to let us set up our tents by the river. It was about a ten minute walk away from them, but we felt like we were really on our own, you know?” He smiled softly at the memory. “We built our own campfire and cooked our own dinner. It was awesome.”
“Still not seeing the worse,” Evie said.
“I’m getting to it.” Liam slowed behind a semi-truck and checked his mirror before he passed it. “Anyway,” he said, once he was back in his own lane. “One of the guys brought some fireworks, and we started messing with them. Lighting ‘em under rocks, throwing ‘em out over the river, that kind of thing.” He turned into the Inn’s driveway. “We dared each other to hold on to them as long as we could before we’d throw them. Stupid stuff.
“When it was my turn, I was determined to win, but I freaked out and instead of throwing the firecracker into the river, I dropped it . . . right into the grass at my feet.”
“Oh no.” Evie covered her mouth.
“Yeah,” he said with a wince. “It was August and everything was so dry. I tried to stomp it out, but it caught and spread like . . . well, like wildfire.” He shrugged. “It grew so fast and we were so scared. We started dragging up buckets of river water trying to put it out, and fortunately, one of the guys ran and grabbed our parents, so we were able to get it out. But the fire department came, and we got in big trouble.”
“Wow.” Evie’s lips quirked. “Who knew the savior of Holiday Junction was such a juvenile delinquent?”
“Everyone, actually.” He pulled to a stop in front of the Inn. “It is a small town. Everyone knows everything about everyone else.”
“Not sure if I’d like that,” Evie said.
“It’s not so bad.” He shrugged. “But the point is, when it comes to campground mishaps, you’ve got nothing on me.”
She gave him a withering look. “You were ten.”
“Beside the point.” He met her gaze, and she blushed slightly and looked away. “So,” he said, clearing his throat. “Except for the mud and the raccoon, did you have a good time?”
“And the marshmallow,” she said, holding up a finger. “Don’t forget the marshmallow.”
He rubbed the center of his forehead, still a little sore. “How could I ever forget the marshmallow?”
Evie smacked his arm, but she was smiling. “Yeah, I did, actually. The kids were really sweet. Especially little Joey.”
“She’s a spitfire, isn’t she?” Liam asked. “Her dad was in the military, killed in Afghanistan when Joey was five. Her mom, Abby, has been raising her on her own.”
“How sad.”
“Yeah, it is. But she’s done an amazing job with Joey,” Liam said. “You should meet Abby while you’re here. She’s an architect in the city, but she has a side business where she builds these amazing tree houses.” He looked up at the Inn through the windshield. “They’re a lot like the Inn, actually.”
“Really?” Evie followed his gaze, and he found himself studying her profile. Her brown hair was loose and tangled, the impeccable makeup and suits replaced by a slight sunburn and rumpled plaid. But for some reason he found her more beautiful now. Definitely more approachable. The armor she’d been wearing when she landed in Holiday Junction was, if not gone entirely, perhaps pierced a little, allowing the real Evie to shine through.
An Evie that Liam thought he might like to get to know, in any other circumstance.
The thought jarred him and he shook his head, reaching for the door handle. “I’ll help you with your stuff,” he mumbled, getting out of the car.
What was he thinking? There were no other circumstances. Evie Hart was here for a building project—a project he was hired to stop—there was nothing else to this. He had to remember that.
No funny camping stories or river rafting trips or raccoon encounters would change the way things were.
He opened the back of the Suburban and pulled out Evie’s pack, hitching it over his shoulder. He walked up the Inn’s front steps with her and set it down by the door.
“So, what’s next?” she asked, looking up at him. Her nose was pink, her lips a little chapped.
“What?” he blinked, lost in thought for a moment.
She smiled. “You’re my Holiday Junction ambassador, right?” she asked. “So what’s next on the tour?”
“Oh! Uh . . .” He frowned. “I’ll check with Mayor Kendricks and let you know, all right?”
“Okay. You know where to find me.” She reached for her pack, and Liam did, too.
“It’s okay. I’ve got it,” she said, lifting the bag to her shoulder. “Thanks for the ride. And sorry again for the . . .” She waved a hand. “You know, everything.”
He tucked his hands into his pockets. “Don’t worry about it.”
She walked into the Inn and Liam turned to head back to his car. He needed to get ahold of himself. Be a professional. Just because there was more than meets the eye when it came to Evie Hart, it didn’t mean he needed to get caught up in . . . well, anything.
He had a job to do. And he had to keep reminding himself that she di
d, too.
* * *
Evie hummed to herself as she walked into the lobby of the Holliday Inn and found Carla at the front desk, tapping on a small laptop computer.
“Well, hello,” she said, closing the laptop. “How was the camping trip?”
Evie searched for the right response, thinking about everything that had happened, and settled on, “Eventful.”
Carla laughed. “Well, I’d love to hear about it sometime.”
“Actually, I’m glad you’re here,” Evie said. “I was wondering if you have a washer and dryer I could use.”
“Of course,” Carla replied. “We’d be happy to take care of it—”
“Oh, no.” Evie held up a hand. “I’d never ask you to do my laundry. But if you wouldn’t mind showing me how to do it?” She flushed, embarrassed. “I’ve actually never used a washer and dryer before.”
To her credit, Carla didn’t blink an eye. “Well, come on then, I’ll show you where everything is.”
She followed her down the hall toward the kitchen
“Carla, where is my organic almond flour?” Carl called out as they passed.
She stopped, poking her head back through the kitchen door. “Fourth cabinet from the left, top shelf.”
He shuffled through the cabinet and eventually pulled out a small bag. “Thank you, my love.” He crossed the room to kiss her, then noticed Evie standing behind her.
“Oh, hello, Ms. Hart,” he said. “How was the camping trip?”
She and Carla exchanged a look before both saying, “Eventful,” with a little laugh.
“Well, I hope you had a good time,” Carl said with a smile.
“I did, actually.”
“I was just going to go show her how to use the washer and dryer,” Carla told him.
“Oh, really?” he looked surprised.
“I need to figure out how to get out mud and berry stains,” she said, brushing at the purple spot on her jeans. “And marshmallow, apparently.” She picked at a glob of the hard, sticky stuff.
“You should use vinegar,” Carl said with a nod.
“I have stain remover in the laundry room,” Carla said, rolling her eyes.
“Vinegar is better,” he said, “especially if you add a little baking soda.”
“I think I know how to do laundry, for heaven’s sake.” She gave him a little shove. “Go back to your kitchen.”
He took a few steps away, then turned back “Where did you say that almond flour was?”
She smirked. “In your hand.”
He looked down in surprise at the bag he was holding, then let out a little laugh before he kissed her again. Carl went back into the kitchen as they continued down the hall.
“How long did you say you guys been married?” Evie asked.
“Thirty years in August,” Carla replied, pushing open a door at the end of the hall. Inside was a brightly-lit laundry room with a window looking out into the forest.
“Thirty years? Wow, that’s great.” Evie scratched the back of her head and a bit of mud came off on her fingernail. She frowned at it. “What’s your secret?”
“No secret,” Carla said. “Just a lot of hard work.” She stood next to the washing machine, leaning against it. “Really, though, I think the key is to accept each other as you are. So many people get married and think they’re going to change the other person, and in my opinion, that’s doomed to failure,” she said, shaking her head with a smile. “And when you think about it, the things that draw you to someone are the things that make them unique. Even if those things drive you a little crazy down the road.”
A rush of sadness hit Evie, and she swallowed thickly. “You sound like my parents,” she said quietly. “My mom was Greek and she tended to be a bit . . . expressive.” She smiled at Carla’s laugh. “Sometimes they argued like crazy, but I always knew they loved each other. My dad always said her passion was part of why he fell in love with her.”
Carla’s smile fell. “I take it they’re no longer together?”
Evie sighed. “My mom passed away when I was fifteen,” she said. “Cancer.” Saying the word brought her instantly back to that hospital room. The sterile white walls. The scent of antiseptic . . . of death.
Be strong, kardia mou. You will survive this. Remember, tha erthei pali ei aniksi—spring will come again.
“I’m so sorry.” Carla reached out and squeezed her hand.
“Thank you.” She blinked away a prickling of tears. “Anyway.” She waved a hand toward the machines. “Can you show me how these work?”
Carla gave her a quick tutorial on using the washer and dryer, then Evie retreated to her room to have a shower and change, saying she’d be back later to take care of the laundry. She was aware of Carla’s soft, worried gaze on her, but tried to ignore it. That look was familiar to Evie, one she was often the recipient of once people found out about her mom.
Evie couldn’t remember ever having a shower that felt so amazing. She stood under the hot spray and shampooed her hair twice before figuring she had to rejoin life outside of the bathroom. She toweled off and put on a clean t-shirt and leggings, gathering up her dirty clothes. She was about to head back down to the laundry room when she spotted her laptop peeking out of her leather bag.
Evie didn’t know what was wrong with her. Rarely did an hour go by when she didn’t check her email, and now it had been more than twenty-four since she’d been within cell or Wi-Fi range and it hadn’t even occurred to her to check in.
She wasn’t sure she even wanted to.
Her phone was dead, so she plugged it in to charge, then opened her laptop and logged on to check her email. She scrolled through about twenty messages—business didn’t stop just because it was the weekend—and was glad that she’d set up an auto-responder sending people to Gray with any questions while she was out of touch.
There were, however, a string of emails between her father and Gray, which she opened with an audible sigh.
From: Warren Hart
To: Evie Hart
CC: Grayson Sparks
Subject: Tobara Development
Evie:
Please get me a status report on Tobara. Investors reached out to me last night at the Everland Gala, and they’re hearing rumors of trouble. Issues must be resolved ASAP or we risk losing Bob Moreland.
WH
Warren Hart, CEO
Hart Enterprises, Inc.
Evie frowned. Bob Moreland was a longtime friend of her father’s and had a huge stake in Tobara, let alone a handful of other major Hart projects. She wondered what, exactly, he’d heard. They’d tried to clamp down on any news of the protests, or of the injunction, but maybe something had leaked? She scrolled down to Gray’s reply.
From: Grayson Sparks
To: Warren Hart
CC: Evie Hart
Subject: Re: Tobara Development
Warren:
Evie is out of pocket until this afternoon, but rest assured, we are handling the situation. I have a line on several major players who I’m confident will fall in line. Should be able to settle everything before the court date.
Gray
Grayson Sparks, Esq.
Chief In-House Counsel
Hart Enterprises, Inc.
Major players? Evie wondered what exactly Gray had been up to while she’d been in the woods.
From: Warren Hart
To: Grayson Sparks
CC: Evie Hart
Subject: Re: Re: Tobara Development
Gray:
Do what you have to. I don’t have to tell you how important it is to nip this in the bud.
WH
Warren Hart, CEO
Hart Enterprises, Inc.
From: Grayson Sparks
To: Warren Hart
CC: Evie Hart
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Tobara Development
Consider it done.
G
Grayson Sparks, Esq.
Chief In-House Counsel
Evie wasn’t an idiot. They’d never come out and say it in an email, which could be hacked or, worse yet, subpoenaed. But it sounded like Gray had found someone to bribe or pressure in some other way. It made her a little sick to her stomach, but it was the way of business in this day and age. Evie didn’t like it, but it really wasn’t up to her, was it?
Chewing on her lip, she typed out her own email.
From: Evie Hart
To: Warren Hart
CC: Grayson Sparks
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Tobara Development
I’m back online and will contact Bob directly and reassure him we have everything under control. Have no doubt I will do whatever is necessary to ensure construction will not be delayed.
Evie
Evangeline Hart, Executive Vice President
Hart Enterprises, Inc.
She wasn’t surprised that a reply came in almost immediately.
From: Warren Hart
To: Evie Hart
CC: Grayson Sparks
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Tobara Development
Make sure you do. I don’t have to tell you a lot is riding on this. If the locals manage to secure the injunction or, God forbid, historical status, this project will be dead in the water.
WH
Warren Hart, CEO
Hart Enterprises, Inc.
From: Evie Hart
To: Warren Hart
Evie’s Awakening: Love in Holiday Junction, Book Three Page 8
