Inevitable Detour (Inevitability Book 1)(62)

She shakes her head. “I’m telling you, Essa, there’s something more, some missing component.”

“It’s something to do with Barnes,” I declare. “I’m sure of it.”

“Why do you think that?” Haven asks.

“I don’t know. I wish I could put my finger on it, but I just have a feeling.”

Haven bites her lip, contemplating. “Hmm, maybe you are onto something, Essa.”

“I think so,” I mumble.

And then Haven says the one thing I’ve been repeatedly asking myself: “What the hell kind of hold could this Quinton Barnes possibly have on Farren?”

“I don’t know, Haven. But I think we should find out.”





Haven and I talk well into the night. We put the serious chats on the back burner and focus on nicer things. Like what’s ahead of us. She’s thrilled when I tell her of my plans to spend the rest of the summer in New York City with her and Farren.

“Your parents are going to freak out,” she says, laughing and shaking her head.

I snort. “Ha, you should have heard Mom when I told her I was skipping out on taking summer classes.”

“Oh, shit, Essa,” Haven says, stricken. “You didn’t tell her I was missing, did you?”

“Are you kidding?” I make a face. “Of course not.”

Haven is quiet, and her eyes meet mine. She asks, “So, what did your mom say about you not staying on campus this summer?”

I sigh. “She said there’d be ‘repercussions’ in the fall.”

“Guess that means you’re getting cut off?”

“Not for tuition, but probably for living expenses.”

Haven is having none of that. “No way,” she says. “I’ll pay your share of the apartment if it comes to that.”

“It’s probably not going to come to that,” I assure her as I glance around the unfamiliar bedroom we’re in. The room is neutrally decorated; it’s nothing like our homey-feeling apartment back east. This is a just a house Farren directed Rick to buy, a safe house. Talking with Haven tonight has felt like old times. But things have very much changed. Haven is the same yet different. Thing is, I’ve changed, too. I’ve come into my own.

Haven is observing me carefully. “What’s going on, Essa?” she asks.

I say softly, “I’m switching my major.”

Her eyes widen. “Really? What are you switching to?”

“Journalism,” I state proudly.

Haven knows I like to write, particularly news pieces. She knows I’ve written articles for the school paper and that I’ve contributed to a monthly business review.

Smiling, she says, “I think that’s a great idea.” And then she adds, “I’m proud of you, Essa.”

We spend the next few minutes fleshing out how I can still graduate on time. But in the end, I conclude, “Maybe summer classes are in my future, after all.”

Damn, so much for my plans. If I’m serious about switching majors, I may have to return to school and skip New York. Something I absolutely do not want to do. Unless… I could always move to New York City permanently, like I discussed with Farren. I could re-set my time table, and start anew.

Before I have the chance to share my thoughts, Haven pipes up with, “Why don’t you take summer classes in New York City?”

“It’s a little late to be registering for summer classes at a school I don’t even attend,” I say.

“Farren has connections at Columbia,” she replies matter-of-factly. “I’m sure he can pull some strings.”

“Connections at Columbia…” I laugh. “Should I even be surprised?”

Haven shrugs nonchalantly, taking her brother’s power and influence in stride. This might be a good time to tell her I may actually transfer to a New York school.

“No way,” Haven says after I tell her what I’m thinking of doing.

“I’m considering it,” I confirm.

“Hmm”—she eyes me knowingly—“things must really be getting serious with my brother.”

I’m not ready for that conversation, especially since I’m not even sure where exactly Farren and I stand. But I need not worry, as Haven doesn’t press. Instead, she muses, “Well, if you’re transferring, then maybe I should, too. After what I’ve been through, I could go for a change.”

“I didn’t say I was definitely transferring.”

Presciently, she says, “Oh, you will.”

I hit her knee. “Shut up, Hav.”

We burst into laughter, and now it really does feel like old times. But when things calm, I softly ask, “Did you know all along Farren would find you?”

She sighs. “I hoped he would, Es. I mean, I knew he had the capabilities…and the resources.”

“Because of Mr. Barnes?”

“I didn’t know about Barnes at the time,” she says. “But I knew someone very wealthy was funding Farren.”

Again, the mysterious man’s name has come up. But Haven appears too exhausted to get into another who-is-this-Barnes-guy discussion. So we wrap things up. After giving each other huge hugs, I leave Haven’s bedroom and go to the room she pointed out as mine and Farren’s bedroom.