Damn his younger brother Dante and his unusual urgency to enter the state of wedded bliss within a few weeks’ time. Evan really couldn’t understand Dante’s enthusiasm to have that event happen so quickly. He was already living with the woman, why did he have to marry her so hastily? That was the real reason that Evan didn’t have his car, and his ever-present driver, Stokes, who never separated himself from the vehicle. Evan’s own transport jet had been tied up doing a favor for a very important business client, unavailable because Evan hadn’t known he would need it. He’d promised it months ago, and had scheduled accordingly. He didn’t like schedule changes, and he never broke a promise once he agreed to something. So, he’d been forced to use a damn transport company that obviously couldn’t deliver, even though they were the most expensive and supposedly the best company in the business.
“Amateurs,” he growled angrily to himself.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t known that Dante would end up married to Sarah . . . eventually. After all, he made it his business to know exactly what was happening with his siblings . . . or rather, he should say all his brothers. He’d screwed up with his sister, Hope, finding out about her adventures way too late to prevent her from suffering the consequences of her rash actions.
My fault. I should have known better than to assume that Hope was living a quiet life in Aspen. Women were trouble, every single one of them, including his sister. Evan knew that he was the only Sinclair aware of all that she’d been through in the past, and it wasn’t because she’d told him. No. She’d hid everything from her own brothers. The only reason he knew now was because he’d gotten a call from Grady that she’d gone missing in Colorado. He’d gotten an investigator involved, even after she’d been found by her now husband, Jason Sutherland, and the agent had subsequently uncovered the fact that Hope had been leading a completely different life than the illusions she’d maintained to all of her brothers. Presumably, her husband knew the real Hope and the trauma she’d suffered, but it didn’t stop Evan from regretting that he hadn’t checked up on her often enough to find out the truth sooner. She’d suffered, and Evan hated that.
Hope was a very important missed detail, even more critical than business for me.
He tried not to think about the horror of Hope’s life, attempted to put it out of his mind since she was happy now. And she’d stay that way. He’d make sure of it.
The walk from the airport into town had calmed his temper somewhat, but he was still irritated by the time wasted for him to walk to his Amesport Peninsula home from the airport outside of town. Yes, he could have called Grady, Dante, or Jared, but it was late, and he was the eldest Sinclair. He wasn’t about to make one of his siblings get out of bed to come pick him up. He’d never hear the end of it from his brothers if they had to come give him a ride in the middle of the night because his car hadn’t arrived at the airport before he did. Such things just didn’t happen to him.
Evan, the oldest and very anal Sinclair sibling.
Evan, the manager-of-every-single-detail brother.
Evan, the meticulous planner who never missed having anything prearranged, no matter how big or how small, had actually been stranded at the airport without a car?
Oh, hell no. He’d walk until he got to his home, even if it did mean a several-mile hike in the middle of the night and the possible destruction of one of his favorite custom-made suits and fine leather shoes. The rain that had been coming down off and on left him damp, pissed off, and ready to strangle the delivery team the second they arrived with his car. He couldn’t blame Stokes. The elderly driver had never left the vehicle, and he couldn’t control the inability of a company to deliver. Stokes was where he needed to be. The delivery service was not.
“I should have never trusted another company to deliver,” he grumbled to himself, his hands in the pockets of his pants, shaking his head irritably as he trekked along the deserted Amesport boardwalk. He might not want to call his brothers, but he’d had no problem waking up his assistant to verify that everything had been confirmed. Of course . . . it had. His assistant knew if he failed at one single task, his job would be history. It had been the transport company’s error. Evan would deal with them first thing in the morning, and he’d destroy the bastards who had left him out here walking in the fucking rain. If the CEO of the company couldn’t get a simple delivery to the place it needed to be on time, his company didn’t deserve to be in business anymore. It had been a very expensive botched job, and Evan Sinclair could make or break a company easily. When a company couldn’t perform, he had no problem doing the latter.
Evan was just about to leave the boardwalk and turn onto the street leading to the Amesport Peninsula when he saw a burst of fire explode from one of the homes at the end of Main Street.
Was it a business or a home?
Evan had only been to Amesport a couple of times, but as far as he could remember—and he recalled nearly everything in detail—Main Street was all businesses.
Jogging across the street, he stopped in front of the old home, which had obviously been converted into a shop. He looked at the window and then looked up at the flames that seemed to be consuming the roof of the building.
Dolls and Things?
It was definitely a store, and it was highly unlikely that anyone was inside at this hour of the night. Digging into the pocket of his suit jacket, he pulled out his phone to report the fire just as he heard the wail of fire engines.
“It’s already been reported then,” he muttered to himself, ready to turn and get on his way to the Peninsula. There was nothing more he could do. The fire department was obviously alerted and on their way.