But before Jack could answer, Frasier and Evan chose that moment to join the party.
“You sonofabitch,” Jack seethed. “How could you do that to her?”
Evan crossed to the wet bar behind the massive desk on the other side of the room. He grabbed a crystal decanter and started pouring. “We did what was best for the foundation.”
Jack pointed. “That is not a decision you get to make on your own.”
“Look, we know how unreliable she is,” Evan said, replacing the stopper on the decanter. “She thought she could join the board knowing full well that she’s planning on moving.”
Her mother whirled around to face Gretchen again. “What is he talking about? Where are you going?”
“She’s taking some new job in D.C.” Evan took another long drink.
Colton circled in front of Gretchen. “What’s he talking about?”
“Ha,” Evan snorted. “She didn’t even tell her boyfriend. I told you she wasn’t worth the trouble, man.”
“I got an offer from a college friend to go work for his nonprofit, but I am not taking it.” She turned on Evan. “But you and I both know this has nothing to do with that.”
“She had one task. I asked her to do one thing. And what did she do? Did she prove that she could be counted on? Nope. She started fucking him instead.”
Colton growled. “Insult her one more time, Evan, and I am going to shove that entire glass down your fucking throat.”
Evan rolled his eyes again. “You don’t actually expect any of us to believe this little thing between you is real, do you?”
Her mother stared with disgust at Evan, as if seeing her son for the first time. “Evan, what is wrong with you?”
“I guess I can’t blame you, on the one hand,” Evan said. “You get access to the Winthrop name and money without actually having to do anything.” He shrugged. “Although now that I think about it, you could’ve gotten the money without the hassle of dealing with Gretchen. No piece of ass can be worth that.”
What happened next was outside Colton’s control, outside his consciousness. He watched, detached, as if someone else were in charge of his body as he stormed across the room, grabbed Evan by the lapel of his jacket, and slammed a fist in his face.
Evan careened backward and fell on his ass, blood spurting from his nose. Glass broke. Whiskey spilled. Chaos ensued.
Jack grabbed Colton around the chest and hauled him back just as Diane raced forward to check on her son. Frasier crouched down on the other side of him and helped him sit. Evan held a hand to his nose and bellowed that he was going to sue.
Colton’s hand began to throb as the adrenaline crashed.
He turned around.
And that’s when he realized.
Gretchen was gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
She stole Blake’s car.
It had been completely unintentional, which is what made it so perfect. She’d grabbed the first set of keys she found by the back entrance, beeped the key fob until she found the right one, and climbed in. It wasn’t until she’d been driving aimlessly for a half hour that she realized which family member the car belonged to.
Even then, she kept driving. She went down dark country roads and onto the freeway. She took exits she didn’t recognize. Sat in a McDonald’s parking lot. Bought a slushy at a gas station. Stared at the lights over the river.
On the passenger seat, her phone buzzed incessantly with texts and phone calls and voice mails. Colton. Her mother. Jack. Colton. Blake’s wife. Which was weird. Probably she wanted the car back. Colton again. Jack again. Her mother again.
She ignored everyone.
An hour passed.
And then another.
The road beckoned. The urge to run until the pain was gone was the navigation system in her mind. But when she began to drive again, it seemed to steer itself here, back to the place where she’d started. Down the same dark country road.
Somehow, she’d unconsciously known she would end up here.
Somehow, she’d known he would too.
The moonlight above was just enough to guide her to the path to her tree house, but she would’ve known the way even without it. She emerged into a clearing and paused to stare at Jack sitting alone on the swing, his hands hanging onto the rope and his eyes staring at the ground. The ends of his bow tie hung loosely around his neck, the top button of his shirt opened to the cold.
The crunch of her heels on the stick-strewn ground brought him to his feet with a surprised but then relieved breath. It puffed around his face in a misty cloud.