Page 45 of Angels Fall

There’s a moment where we just sit like that, and then I take a breath and say, “Evan, I—”

But he interrupts me before I can say more.

“Don’t. It’s fine, Maddie. It’s fine. It’s just good to see you. Really.”

“It’s good to see you too.”

“How’re your folks?”

“OK. I guess. They’re in Monaco, you know.”

“I do.”

“So… They’re OK. We’ve been talking a lot more recently because of… y’know, the anniversary. We tend to talk a lot around this time of year.”

“When’s the last time you saw them?” he asks.

“Oh, um, I don’t—I mean it’s probably been a couple of years.”

“Really?”

“They’ve tried to visit or have me visit or whatever, but it just feels like… I dunno. Never the right time. It’s, y’know, it’s fine. You know how it is.”

“Sure,” he says. “So… Oh! So, what’s this drone thing Tyler was talking about? Something with real estate?”

I laugh kind of bitterly. “Yeah, fuck. Was supposed to be. Was gonna be my big business idea that was gonna change the real estate game. Thought developers and agents would be all over me for my revolution in the real estate market, but I think maybe I actually just… wanted to buy a drone.” Evan laughs. “I dunno. Nothing’s exactly worked out the way I thought it would.”

“Yeah,” he says, “nothing ever does.”

“Yeah,” I sigh out. “That’s for damn sure. You make plans and plot and strategize and next thing you know you’re a morning manager at a strip club in the desert.”

Evan just looks at me. Can’t tell what he’s thinking behind those black eyes of his. Never have been able to.

“Well, not you,” I say, to fill the silence. “But some of us are. Me. I am. I’m the strip club manager. That’s what I’m saying.”

The corners of his eyes wrinkle and he smiles.

“So!” As I try saying something that’s not totally stupid. “You’re married, huh?” I slap his knee. “That’s so awesome. What does he do, your husband?”

Evan takes a beat, smirking at me before he answers. “He’s a real-estate developer.”

“Really? I ask

“Yup.”

“What’s his name? I’ve probably tried to pitch him on my stupid drone idea.”

“Robert Vanderbilt,” says Evan and my jaw hits the floor.

“Fuck you, dude! You’re married to Robert Vanderbilt?”

“You know him.”

“Uh, yeah, I know him. His name is on every other property I see listed.”

“Yep. That’s him. He’s a go-getter.”

There’s a moment of silence because we both know what should happen next, but I’m not gonna ask and he’s not gonna offer. So…