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“So,” she says. “You really did come back.”
“Good to see you too, Siobhan,” I say.
Her eyes narrow. “You fucking left us.”
“Von, please,” Daisy says. “Don’t fight.”
“I’m a lawyer, Daisy, that’s what I do.”
“Who’s the lucky firm?” I ask.
“I’m a junior partner at Phillips, Brace, and Horowitz,” Von says, unable to hide the pride in her voice. Then her eyes soften the tiniest fraction. “Do you really think you can just swoop back into town and find Mom’s killer like that?” She snaps her fingers.
“Yes,” I say. Von always brought out my stubborn side.
Von rolls her eyes. Alistair looks vaguely amused, Finn incredulous. Daisy is the only one who looks hopeful.
“I believe in you, Caden,” Daisy says.
“Thanks,” I say, suddenly tempted to ruffle her hair like I used to do.
Alistair claps his hands. “Look at us. All five Evertons in one room together. Should we take a picture to commemorate this auspicious occasion?”
“I’m sure your homecoming is going to set Magnolia Bay on fire,” Daisy says, grinning. “Everyone will be so happy to know you’re back!”
“I’m not back,” I try to insist. This is only temporary. But no one is listening to me.
Finn is complaining to Von about the permits again and Daisy is eagerly informing me of some local town news, while Alistair suggests opening a bottle of wine.
“Jake Stein has taken over the Crooked Screw,” Daisy is saying. “And he’s doing a really great job. Oh, and remember Emily Cochran? I’m thinking about hiring her for the tasting room, she’s really sweet and reliable. Nothing like her brother Mike, ugh.” Daisy makes a face.
I wait, with a foolish hopefulness, for her to mention Isla. Is she happy? Has she moved on? Did I hurt her when I left? Does she despise me now?
But no one can answer those questions for me except Isla. I find myself suddenly filled with the need to get out of this house, to head into town in search of her. Even if only to see her once. Just to know she’s okay.
My siblings are still talking over each other. I tell Daisy I’ll be right back, then slip out of the room and head upstairs.
First things first—I’m in desperate need of a shower.
Then I’m going to find Isla.
CHAPTER TWO
ISLA
“Oh!” my mother gasps as I emerge from the small dressing room into the large, comfortable sitting area.
“It’s not too much?” I ask, looking down at the layers of fluffy white fabric.
“You look like a fairy princess!” Mom gushes.
“You look like a wedding cake,” my best friend Charlotte says dryly as she polishes off her glass of complimentary champagne.
I turn and look in the three-sided mirror, perched against one wall of the private fitting room at Couture Hélène, the chic New York City bridal shop my fiancé, Luke, had suggested. The dress is strapless, with a bodice encrusted with tiny white gems. The skirt is bolstered by layers and layers of chiffon. I’ve never worn anything this pretty in my life. I feel like I’m in a fairytale. I stare at my reflection and a tiny thrill runs through me.
I’m getting married.
It didn’t quite feel real until this moment, even though the sizeable diamond ring has been sitting on my finger for a couple of months now. I told Luke I didn’t need anything fancy, but he said nothing but the best for his future wife.