Bishop's Queen, Page 5

  “Good.” She gently squeezed Rosa’s outstretched hand. “I feel so much better knowing you’re here.”

  Rosa nodded and paused, watching Isla for a long moment. “She’s not alone today.”

  “Did one of her new bunco partners stop by?” Her mom had taken to bunco and found a whole group of girlfriends, very much unlike the socialite women she’d been forced to hang out with because of Isla’s father. For the first time in ages, whenever Isla saw her mom, she was relaxed. Even with her father now gone, her mom hadn’t spiraled into a drinking binge like Isla had feared—expected, even. This woman was…different from the mom she’d grown up with. She wasn’t wound as tight, as anxious.

  “Evan is here.” Rosa’s expression was very carefully neutral.

  Isla plastered on a neutral smile of her own, even as her stomach curled into a hard ball. “Is he now?” What the hell was he doing showing up here?

  “Your mother invited him and just told me before he arrived, or I’d have let you know sooner.”

  “Thank you for the heads-up.” It might not give her much time to steel herself against seeing him, but it was better than nothing. She’d found herself running into Evan Bishop far too often the last two days. It had jolted her out of her routine, her misery, and pulled her out of her safe little bubble. More like sad little bubble where all she did was work and feel sorry for herself. Pathetic.

  Minutes later she found her mother and Evan sitting on the lanai, her mom drinking a vodka martini and Evan sipping a glass of ice water. He gave Isla a heated look that he quickly masked as he stood to greet her.

  “Evan, Mom,” she said, fake-ass smile firmly in place.

  Evan surprised her by approaching and gently hugging her as he murmured in her ear. “She asked me and I couldn’t say no.”

  The gentleness of his words and his embrace threatened to undo her, but she remained stiff in his hold. He was one of the few people who knew about her relationship and issues with her mother. Most people didn’t even know about Sophia’s drinking issue. Nope. Her image was carefully curated.

  Of course he wouldn’t say no to Sophia. Isla’s mom, former beauty queen who’d snagged the eye of business magnate Douglas McDonald, was used to getting her own way. Isla was no different when it came to her mom—she found it hard to say no too.

  “It’s okay,” she said quietly as she stepped back, desperate for space between them, her body aching from that simple embrace she’d been dying for these past couple months. Then she kissed her mom on both cheeks, forcing her feelings down deep inside. “You look stunning as always.”

  No matter what, she complimented her mom’s looks. Her mom needed the ego boost more often than not, something Isla had a hard time understanding when she was one of the most beautiful women Isla knew. Inside and out. And on the outside? She still had killer curves, a beautiful smile and miles of long, thick, chestnut-colored hair. Isla had definitely not taken after her mother in the looks department. She was more willowy and slender, where her mom was all curvaceous vivacity and had a larger-than-life type of beauty reminiscent of long-gone Italian actresses. And outer beauty aside, her mom was on the board of two major charities—one of which helped abused women trying to start over and another that helped provide families in South Florida with fresh, healthy food.

  Even with Evan here—or maybe because he was here—things felt weirdly normal. Like old times. She looked over the precisely set up spread of fruits, cheeses, and drinks already on the table. Her mother always alternated water and alcohol because she liked to stay hydrated. Always the beauty queen.

  “It’s so lovely to see you two together again,” her mom said, smiling sweetly at them, but there was a glint of something in her dark eyes.

  Isla hid a wince at her words. They weren’t together, even though her mother simply meant in the physical proximity sense. But Evan smiled back politely and Isla picked up a little plate and started adding fruit to it.

  “I’m happy to be here. It’s been too long since I’ve seen you,” Evan said. “And I owe you an apology for not coming by sooner. I’m so very sorry.” He took her mom’s hand and squeezed once and Isla knew he was being genuine.

  She could see it in every line of his body. Evan and her father had been working on a deal to buy up a Southeastern transportation company with the hopes of expanding it nationwide, but they had also been friends, which just made Evan’s ghosting act so much worse.

  “Oh honey, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Her mom patted Evan’s hand gently. “You were going through your own dark time, something I understand.”

  “I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he murmured.

  She patted his hand again. “I received your condolences, so that’s enough about that. How have you been getting along? Do the doctors say you need to worry about anything long-term? You look great, regardless,” her mom added.

  Sophia might have had moments of volatility throughout Isla’s childhood, but deep down she was very kind. She’d grown up hard, had been raised by an alcoholic herself and suffered a lot of physical abuse. And she’d never felt like she fit in with all of her father’s friends. Not when they all considered her an airheaded beauty queen. But she’d outlasted the first wives of all her father’s business associates, something she was quite proud of. Her father might have been a hard man, but he’d loved his wife deeply and had indulged her every whim.

  “Decently,” Evan said. “I got lucky compared to a lot of people.” His expression darkened then, and Isla imagined what he was thinking of.

  “What about you, Isla? I hear through the grapevine you’ve been very busy. I also hear you might be dating Geno Conti,” her mother said boldly. “That man is just the sweetest, certainly a charmer. I danced with him twice at a gala not long ago and he was so amusing.”

  Isla nearly choked on her cucumber water, surprised at the glint in her mom’s eyes. Oh, she had set this up perfectly, Isla abruptly realized. Sometimes she didn’t give her mom enough credit.

  She smothered a laugh as she realized what her mom was doing. She was making it perfectly clear to Evan Bishop that Isla had moved on and that she had options. And she wasn’t being very subtle about it. Isla shouldn’t have expected anything less. Her mother might have issues, but she was ferocious when it came to Isla.

  “I’m not dating anyone.” She avoided looking at Evan. “Though when that changes, I’ll be sure to let you know. Now tell me about this trip I hear you’re planning.”

  “Rosa told you about that?”

  “Of course. It sounds fun.”

  When her mom launched into her upcoming plans for a cruise with her bunco friends, Isla smiled. For the first time in two months, her mother was laughing and smiling and Isla was so grateful for the change. She knew her mother was an alcoholic and would likely never acknowledge that or change. But loving someone sometimes meant accepting them for who they were. If she had been toxic or dragging Isla down, it would be a different story. But her mom was who she was. And Isla was in a new phase of life where she was learning to let things go—namely the past.

  Her mom was keeping her shit together better than Isla was, it seemed. Because right now Isla felt like she was drowning in grief over a man she could never be with again. Over a future that wasn’t going to be hers.

  * * *

  “She seems to be doing well, considering everything,” Evan said as he walked Isla to her car an hour later. “And she’s drinking less.”

  “She’s really shown a tough spine through everything. And she’s got this new group of friends that have been amazing. I wish she’d found them years ago.”

  He lifted an eyebrow.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing, you just seem…more settled about her.” It used to stress Isla coming over here. Today she’d seemed oddly settled, even with him there.

  “I’ve finally accepted that I can’t change her habits. She has to want to change herself, and if she never does, then s
o be it.”

  “Very true… She’s one of the toughest women I know.” His words must have surprised her because he saw the shock clearly on her face. “What?” he asked. “It’s true. She survived the sharks of the Miami social scene for decades and everyone adores her. When she chairs something, people show up and donate. She’s done a lot for the city.” His own mother had commented on it more than once.

  And while he might stay out of social bullshit as much as he could, he still had various businesses to run. He had his hands in transportation, tech, security, real estate—including hotels—and even some small media production companies. He kept his ear to the ground about everything because he never knew when a kernel of information might be important.

  “I wish she would see her own worth. Though I will say she was there for me after…” She cleared her throat. “She was there for me more than I was there for her after my dad died. She was a rock.”

  Though he knew she didn’t mean to hurt him, it still hurt nonetheless. He should have been her rock. Instead, he’d simply contributed to her pain. “Isla—”

  She leaned up against her car, arms crossed over her chest. “No. I can read you perfectly. No more apologies. I…don’t want to hear them.”

  “Well I’m still sorry,” he rasped out. He placed one hand on the top of her car as he looked down at her, dying to touch her. Kiss her. Hold her the way he wanted to. What he wouldn’t give to be able to call her his again. “I should have been there for you.”

  She met his gaze now, tears shimmering brightly, and her pain hit him like a sledgehammer. “I should have been there for you. I wanted to.”

  “I know you did. And I’m sorry I shut you out.” Instinctively he reached up and cupped her cheek. Because it felt natural, right. Because he’d done it hundreds of times.

  For a moment suspended in time, she started to lean into it and then she froze, her eyes going wide. He froze too—what the hell was he thinking? Well, he was thinking that he wanted to lean down and brush his mouth over hers, that he wanted to pull her tight against his body and never let go.

  He abruptly dropped his hand and tried to figure out what to say. Before he could form any words, she turned away from him and opened her car door. Without another word she slid into the front seat and shut the door on him.

  Torn, he stepped back and watched her car head down the driveway, and he couldn’t help but feel like he was losing everything in that moment. He’d already lost her, but for some reason, today things seemed more final. Now that he’d finally talked to her, he was face to face with the reality of what he’d done.

  What he’d lost.

  Soft footsteps behind him pulled him out of the moment. When he turned, he found Sophia McDonald walking toward him, her kimono-style dress fluttering in the wind.

  “I never took you for a coward,” she said.

  He could see himself in the reflection of her oversized sunglasses as she looked up at him. Petite and curvy, she was a force of nature.

  He glanced away. “Yeah, neither did I,” he muttered.

  “If you think she’s going to wait around forever for you to pull your head out of your ass, you are a fool.” There was no malice in her words, just a matter-of-fact declaration.

  “I know she’s not going to wait for me.”

  “Are you sure about that? How are you going to feel when she moves on? Truly moves on. Because she will. That girl is a diamond. Someone will scoop her up.”

  He tightened his jaw and looked back at her. “She doesn’t deserve to be saddled with me.”

  “At one time I thought you were the perfect man for her. And I’m definitely not talking about your looks. What you did was unforgivable. You broke her heart. It was so…unexpected. Of all men, I never imagined you would do something like that, Evan. I’ve never seen my girl so heartbroken. So I don’t know how to answer you. I think if you want her, you need to go after her and be willing to accept her rejection. If you don’t, you need to walk away. No ‘let’s be friends’ nonsense. That would never work between the two of you. Both of you will only get hurt more than you already are.” Surprising him, she patted him gently on the cheek. “I have faith that you’re not completely stupid.” Then she turned around and left him.

  He wasn’t so sure that she was right—because at that moment, he felt like the world’s biggest dumbass.

  He had to get his shit together, had to figure out exactly what his goal was. Because the truth was, he didn’t think he could only ever just be her friend. He would always want more. Even if he didn’t deserve it.

  Chapter 7

  As she stepped into her condo, Isla smiled when she saw Jemma’s name on her phone’s caller ID. Jemma with her dark, wild, curly hair and infectious laugh, who’d been a rock for Isla the last couple months. They’d been close since college and the bond had never wavered.

  She was busy feeling sorry for herself, however, so for a brief moment she thought about not answering, but she missed her best friend’s voice. Heck, she simply missed her friend.

  “Hey,” she said, smiling before she even heard Jemma’s voice.

  “Hey yourself! What are you doing tonight?”

  “Nothing, but—”

  “Good. You’re going out with me.”

  “Jemma, I don’t feel like—”

  “I don’t care what you feel like. You need to get out, see real people. Interact with other humans. And I know you see people at work, but you have got to stop moping about Evan. And you need to be doing things that bring you joy—and that job isn’t bringing you any freaking joy.”

  “I’m not moping.” She felt more like she was grieving.

  “I get it. I really do.” Her tone softened just a bit.

  Of all people, Jemma did. Her words weren’t a hollow, useless sentiment. Jemma had been widowed at a young age and had lost the love of her life. So…yeah, damn it, Isla hated it when her best friend was right. “What do you have in mind for tonight?”

  “A food festival not far from your place. I’ve got two tickets and I know a handful of people who are going to be there. So free food and drinks and you don’t have to get all dressed up in a formal gown. Speaking of which, are you dating Geno Conti?” There was a note of horror in Jemma’s voice.

  Isla snickered. “No. He’s not what the tabloids make him out to be though. He’s really nice.” The fact that Jemma was even asking reminded her that it had been a couple weeks since she and Jemma had done anything but text.

  Her friend snorted. “Well, I’m glad you’re not with him. So you’re in tonight?”

  “I’m in. We need to catch up anyway.”

  “Good, I’ll pick you up at six.”

  “This better not be some weird date setup… Is it?”

  “So distrusting.” Then she laughed lightly. “Wear something sexy tonight.” Jemma disconnected.

  Isla frowned, setting her phone down. Jemma hadn’t actually denied this was a setup. Isla was tempted to call her back but decided not to. She trusted Jemma. And the truth was, she did need to get out. She was either holed up in her condo or in her office at work, and she only attended work events—or visited her mother. She hadn’t died; she and Evan had simply stopped being a couple.

  She needed to accept it. And she needed to prove to herself that she believed it. It was the only way she was truly going to move on.

  * * *

  “Thank you for tonight,” Isla said as Jemma pulled up to the front of her building. She’d eaten tons of great food and laughed for a couple hours straight. She felt alive again for the first time in months.

  “I had fun. And I’ve missed you,” Jemma said pointedly.

  “I know.” She leaned her head back against the headrest. “I just thought… I don’t know, I thought you were going to try to push me to date.”

  “Hell no. You don’t need a man to be satisfied—there are toys for that,” she added, laughing.

  Isla grinned. “I feel like I’ve been living
in a fog the past couple months.”

  “I get it. And even though it’s not the same thing I went through, you are definitely in a state of grieving. I swear I’ll never push you to date. That’s your own business. I just…miss my friend.”

  “I’ve missed you too… Evan showed up at my mom’s for brunch earlier today,” Isla blurted out.

  Jemma’s eyes widened as she shifted in her seat. Her long, flowy cream and navy blue maxi dress rustled against the leather seat. “What? How is this the first I’m hearing about this?”

  “I wanted to have fun tonight and not talk about him or think about him at all.” She’d just wanted girl time free of any sort of drama—and they’d had such a good time. Her stomach ached from all the laughing.

  “Details, now.” She glanced in the rearview mirror. “And no one is behind me, we’re fine.”

  Isla glanced over at the front doors of her building. It was quiet tonight, with no one coming in or out, so she turned back to her friend. “Well, it’s not actually the first time I’ve spoken to him recently. He was at a business gala I was at with Conti.” Quickly, she ran over everything that had happened over the past couple days. When she was done, Jemma sat there wide-eyed.

  “Sounds like Evan wants to be back in your life. Whether as friends or more, who knows.” Jemma’s lips pursed into an annoyed line.

  “What should I do?” she asked, though she knew no one could really answer for her.

  “I have no idea. Look, I always liked Evan. A lot. He treated you right and he was just a great guy. I always thought he was like this magical unicorn and I still can’t believe what he did. And I wasn’t the one engaged to him, so I can only imagine how much he hurt you. I don’t think there’s a right or wrong answer for this situation. Just…go with your instinct.”