Chapter 72

Evelyn found the whole situation absurd and let out a derisive laugh.

"Since you claim to be just a friend, you should understand boundaries." She crossed her arms, her tone sharp. "Throwing yourself at him like this is inappropriate. He's married—or does that not matter to you?"

Isabella bit her lip, her eyes glistening with feigned hurt.

Evelyn had no interest in continuing this conversation. She had said what needed to be said.

She turned and walked back toward Lucas's private room, intending to retrieve the unfinished bottle of wine they had left behind.

What she didn’t notice was the pair of watchful eyes that had been tracking her every move since she stepped inside.

Ethan had always thought of Evelyn as dull, someone who responded to everything with a passive "okay."

But lately, she kept surprising him.

The way she carried herself now—confident, vibrant, alive—was nothing like the woman he had once dismissed.

Just as Evelyn reentered the private room, her phone buzzed.

It was Margaret.

My phone buzzed violently in my pocket.

Margaret's shrill voice pierced through before I could even greet her. "You promised to be at Maple Leaf Café by seven for your blind date! It's already ten past! Where the hell are you?"

I winced.

Completely slipped my mind.

"You only set this up because you're terrified I'll sabotage Vanessa and Ethan's wedding," I snapped, slinging my purse over my shoulder as I turned toward the café.

"Such a pity! I hope they tie the knot quickly. And spare me the matchmaking—I’m not interested. Push me too far, and I swear I’ll turn their wedding into a circus. The whole of Cresthaven will laugh at you."

Her gasp was sharp. "I’m your mother! Of course I care about your future! You wouldn’t dare ruin Vanessa’s big day—it’s too late for jealousy now."

I hung up before she could spew more nonsense.

But fate had a cruel sense of humor.

The moment I stepped out, Margaret barreled into me, her eyes lighting up like I’d just won the lottery.

"The matchmaker swears this man is Ethan’s equal," she gushed, gripping my arm. "At least meet him!"

With a determined grip, Margaret dragged Evelyn inside the restaurant.

Evelyn struggled against her mother's hold, shaking her head vigorously.

This was ridiculous.

She was a married woman. What was she doing at a blind date setup?

The wine from earlier clouded her judgment slightly, and Margaret's iron grip made it impossible to break free.

Just as Evelyn considered making a scene, two familiar figures turned the corner of the hallway.

Ethan and Vanessa.

Of all the cursed timing.

Spotting them before they noticed her, Evelyn whipped her head toward Margaret.

"Which room?" she demanded sharply.

Margaret blinked at her daughter's sudden urgency.

"Right here," she answered, gesturing to the private dining room beside them.

Without hesitation, Evelyn shoved the door open and yanked Margaret inside, slamming it shut just as Ethan and Vanessa passed by.

From the hallway, Vanessa's confused voice carried through the wood.

"Mom? What were you and Evelyn doing just now—"

The rest was cut off as Evelyn pressed her back against the door, heart pounding.

This was not how she'd imagined her evening going.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as Evelyn stepped into the Maple Leaf Café.

She had no idea Vanessa would be here tonight.

Originally, Ethan had planned to take Vanessa to the Eclipse Lounge.

But Vanessa wanted Ethan to witness Evelyn's blind date firsthand, so she'd changed their meeting spot to this very café.

Fate had a cruel sense of humor—Vanessa hadn't expected to literally bump into Evelyn at the entrance.

Margaret, unaware of Vanessa's scheming, answered honestly when questioned. "I arranged this blind date for Evelyn."

Ethan's eyes darkened instantly. "A blind date?"

Margaret nodded. "With your wedding approaching, I thought it best to keep Evelyn... occupied."

His jaw tightened. "She agreed to this?"

Margaret glanced at the closed private room door, sensing the dangerous edge in Ethan's voice.

Inside, Evelyn heard every word.

It wasn't cowardice keeping her hidden—she simply refused to waste energy on pointless confrontations. The plush booth and steaming chamomile tea offered far better company.

The clinking of silverware outside the door grew louder as the hostess seated Ethan's party at an adjacent table.

Vanessa's laughter rang false as she deliberately raised her voice. "Darling, doesn't this café remind you of our first date?"

Evelyn's fingers tightened around her teacup. The liquid trembled, casting ripples across the surface like her unsettled thoughts.

A waiter approached with two menus. "Your blind date should be arriving shortly, Miss Carter. Shall I bring another pot of tea?"

Before Evelyn could respond, the café door chimed again.

All conversation ceased as a familiar silhouette filled the doorway—tall, broad-shouldered, with that unmistakable aura of command.

Alexander Whitmore stood frozen on the threshold, his stormy gaze locking onto Evelyn's startled one.

The teacup slipped from her fingers, shattering against the saucer in a discordant symphony.

Vanessa's triumphant smirk faltered as Alexander strode past their table without a glance.

He stopped before Evelyn, his voice dangerously soft. "Tell me this is some terrible joke."

The entire café held its breath.

Evelyn lifted her chin. "I could say the same about your presence here."

Alexander's lips curved into that infuriating smirk she knew so well. "Oh sweetheart, you have no idea what game you've just walked into."

Outside, thunder rumbled—a perfect mirror to the tempest brewing between them.

Vanessa's manicured nails dug into Ethan's arm as understanding dawned. This wasn't just any blind date.

This was war.

Seeing the empty room, Evelyn exhaled in relief.

She moved toward the plush sofa, sinking into its cushions. The plan was simple—wait until the voices outside faded before making her exit.

Then came the unmistakable sound of running water.

Her breath hitched.

Before she could react, the bathroom door swung open.

A tall figure emerged, dressed in a fitted black shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders. He was drying his hands with a tissue, his movements precise.

Evelyn's pulse spiked.

This wasn't part of the plan.

The man lifted his gaze, and their eyes locked.

Recognition flickered in his expression.

Her stomach twisted.

Of all people, why did it have to be him?

The air between them thickened with unspoken tension.

She should leave. Now.

But her legs refused to move.

His lips curved into a slow, knowing smile.

"Fancy meeting you here, Evelyn."

Her fingers tightened around the armrest.

This wasn't just bad luck.

This was a disaster.