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‘Yes. That’s probably a good idea. I’ll put it up.’ A ponytail was practical. Sensible. And that was the sort of person she was. Practical. She wasn’t designed for grand passion or wild affairs. She was reliable, sensible Evanna. That was how other people saw her and it was how she should start seeing herself. No more dreams. No more fantasies.
He frowned down at her feet. At her deliciously sexy, wickedly high-heeled shoes. ‘And you should probably wear something flat and comfortable. She can move like lightning now and you’ll never be able to catch her in those. You’ll twist your ankle.’
Something flat and comfortable. Something that reliable, sensible Evanna would wear. ‘Right. I’ll remember that, too.’
He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. ‘You’re a good friend, Evanna,’ he said softly. ‘The best.’
And then he turned and walked away from her, leaving her staring after him with all the hope lying shrivelled inside her.
She felt numb. Her limbs wouldn’t move and for a moment she stood, staring through the curtain of green leaves, wondering what she was supposed to do now. She felt foolish in her dress and shoes and suddenly wished she’d just worn jeans.
That was it then.
Over.
It had been a foolish idea and it had failed.
And now she had to rejoin the group. Wearing her silly dress and her uncomfortable shoes, she had to talk and mingle and do all the things she usually did because if she didn’t, everyone would notice. Everyone would know that something was the matter with her and she didn’t want anyone to notice. She didn’t want people to know.
Evanna blinked rapidly to clear the tears that had gathered and walked carefully on her new heels, brushing aside the fronds of the weeping willow, intending to help herself to some food. And then her eyes rested on Logan’s broad, muscular shoulders and she found that she couldn’t look away. Why did it have to be him? she wondered helplessly. Why him? Couldn’t she have fallen in love with someone who noticed her? She stood there, drinking in his strength and masculinity, memorising every single part of him as if it were the last time she’d be allowed to look.
And then she felt Kyla’s hand on her arm. ‘Well? I saw him drag you into the weeping willow. The dress obviously worked.’
Evanna willed herself to move—willed herself to act normally. ‘He wants me to look after Kirsty on Wednesdays. That’s what he wanted to talk to me about.’ Her voice sounded unnaturally formal, even to her own ears, and suddenly she knew she was going to cry. ‘So I think we can safely say that the dress didn’t impress him and that plan B has just crashed and burned alongside plan A. Will you excuse me? I’m suddenly incredibly tired. I think I’ll go home and have an early night.’
‘Evanna, you can’t just—’
‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Kyla.’ She needed to get away. Fast. Before she made a fool of herself.
Without looking back, she turned and walked quickly across the garden towards the gate. Let them say what they liked, she thought as she fumbled with the gate and walked to her car. She didn’t care any more. She just needed to be on her own.
‘Evanna, wait!’
Kyla’s voice came from behind her but she ignored her and drove off without glancing back.
She drove the short distance to her cottage, parked the car and nearly twisted her ankle on the path that led to her front door. It was the final straw. With a sob of frustration she stooped and slid them from her feet, throwing them angrily on the grass. She struggled with her key, somehow managed to open the door of her cottage, even though her eyes were swimming with tears and she couldn’t see clearly.
‘Evanna.’ Kyla was right behind her and she turned, all the emotions of the evening suddenly released.
‘You didn’t need to follow me. I didn’t want you to. You’re my best friend, Kyla, but there are some things that even best friends can’t fix.’ Her voice was choked. Clogged with tears. ‘Leave me alone, please. I just need to be on my own for a bit.’
‘But I can—’
‘But you can what? You can what, Kyla? If you’re even thinking about coming up with another plan to make your brother notice me, you can forget it because I already feel completely and utterly humiliated. He is never going to notice me, and the sooner I come to terms with that, the better for all of us.’ She turned and sprinted up the rest of the stairs and into her bedroom.
‘Evanna, wait, please…’
Evanna was holding back sobs, the breath tearing in her throat as she tried hard not to cry. ‘Please, leave me alone. I need to be on my own.’
‘No, you don’t. You’re upset and—’
‘Can’t you see?’ Tears flooded down her face and Evanna gave up the struggle for control. ‘Can’t you see that this is never going to work? Aren’t you satisfied? We changed the way I dressed and he simply thought I looked ridiculous! He told me to put my hair back up so that Kirsty wouldn’t pull it and to wear something more flat and comfortable on my feet, and do you know what that is?’ She ripped the dress from her body so violently that she tore the fabric. ‘Because I’m not a flamenco dancer or anyone glamorous. I’m just me and it isn’t enough.’
‘Don’t, Evanna.’ Kyla reached out a hand to try and stop her but Evanna brushed her away, stepped out of the dress and reached for her comfortable dressing-gown.
‘Enough!’ The tears thickened her words as she quickly covered herself. ‘You have to let it drop, Kyla, and so do I. When I was on the mainland I promised myself that this wasn’t going to happen again. I wasn’t going to keep hoping. No more jumping through hoops. No more waving flags that say, Here I am! No more humiliation. And now here I am yet again, crying over a man who doesn’t want me. It has to stop. It’s got to stop.’
Kyla’s eyes were swimming with tears. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered, and Evanna felt herself pulled into a warm hug. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’
