“Beats me,” I said, which wasn’t entirely accurate. I’d juxtaposed Evan’s words against Kevin’s accusations, and it hadn’t taken a massive mental leap to reach the conclusion that Kevin must be right. Evan, Cole, and Tyler were into something. I just didn’t know what.
“Oh, come on,” Kat said. “You’ve known him for forever.”
“Hardly,” I said. “I met him when I was sixteen.”
“Like I said. Forever. You must have some idea of why he’d say that about himself.”
“Fine,” I said. “I’ve been around him forever. I’ve been in lust with him forever. But ‘being around’ and ‘being in lust’ don’t translate into knowing his deep dark secrets, you know? I mean, I don’t even know where he lives.”
“Seriously? What about Cole? Do you know anything about him?”
I glanced sideways at her, but she just shrugged.
“Not really,” I said. “Not about any of them. They were friends with Jahn, not me. I was still in high school when we met, and I was only in Chicago for a few weeks each summer. I mostly hung out with a sketch pad and pretended to draw when Evan and Cole and Tyler came over. And if I did talk, it wasn’t exactly a conversation full of deep emotional resonance. I mean, we talked about school or movies or whatever Jahn was cooking on the grill, you know?”
“Yeah, but then you went to college and somewhere along the way he got a little hot for you. Which means this has to have been bubbling along for a while, right?”
All things considered, I had to agree that she was probably right. Somewhere along the way, Evan had become as hot for me as I was for him. “Yeah, but I was totally clueless,” I told her. “Even though I was living full-time near the city, I think I saw the guys even less once I started Northwestern. I wasn’t living with Jahn and my school schedule was nuts. I saw them on a few weekends, but it wasn’t like a regular thing.”
She sighed. “It’s so romantic,” she said, with an affected lilt to her voice. “You were like completely blacked out ships passing in the night.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know some stuff. I know he likes his steaks medium rare because that’s how he made them when we grilled out. And I know he likes opera because he went with Jahn a few times. And some Finnish heavy metal band because he and Cole were psyched to get tickets. But I don’t have a clue what toothpaste he uses, what his favorite class was in college, what his first pet was named, or if he committed a felony last week.”
“A felony?”
I waved the word away as if it meant nothing. I had yet to tell Kat about Kevin’s allegations. I’m not sure why I was so reticent, but I think it was because I’d begun to believe them.
The truth was, Evan could very well have dark secrets that were completely hidden from me. After all, when you got right down to it, except for bits of trivia picked up in Jahn’s living room and backyard, I didn’t know a whole lot more about him than everyone else in Chicago knew.
He might not have been as much of a public figure as my dad, but his position and charitable donations had made him a local celebrity, and I’d devoured every article written about him. All of them talked about his tragic past. How his father had died in a fire that had also injured his little sister, Melissa. How Evan had worked his ass off during high school to help his mother make ends meet and to cover the medical bills, taking any and every job he could find and thereby honing the job skills and tenacity that served him well during his entrepreneurial climb.
But none of that meant that I understood why he’d call himself a bad bet.
“Does it really matter?” Kat said when I told her as much. “It’s not like you’re the kind of girl who wants a safe bet, anyway. What?” she asked innocently when I crossed my arms and raised my brow. “I’m just saying that you like a little excitement in your life. Nothing wrong with that.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not going to be around long enough for anything to come of it.”
Her brows puckered. I’d told her about my plan to move to Washington, and to say she was less than enthusiastic would be an understatement. “You’re really sure about this?”
“It’s what I went to school for.”
“That’s not an answer.”
I sighed and snagged one of the cupcakes. I dragged my finger through the frosting, then licked it off as I considered what to say. That’s the problem with having a friend who understands you. Sometimes they understand you too well.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m sure. It’s a good job in a field I understand. I grew up in politics. I have the degree.” It will make my parents happy. Only I didn’t say that last part. Instead, I shrugged. “It makes sense. I mean, not everyone can know exactly what they want to be when they grow up. Some of us fall into careers by default.”
Kat took a long swallow from her Heineken. “Oh, I don’t have a career plan. Just a goal.”
“Rich,” we said together, and then laughed.
“So how’s that working out for you so far?” I asked.
“Apparently the road to riches isn’t paved with coffee filters. At least not unless you’re the dude who invented Starbucks. But I have some irons in the fire.”
“Really? Tell me.”
She waved it off. “Nothing to talk about. Just some stuff my dad’s putting together.”
I frowned, but didn’t say anything. From what she’d told me of her dad, he was hardly someone to emulate. Then again, the guy did have a house in Winnetka and a condo in Palm Beach, so maybe he knew his stuff.