The Casanova (The Miles High Club #3)(67)

Kellie’s eyes widen as she looks at us. “Sorry,” she whispers as she swiftly closes the door.

Elliot glares at me, his nostrils flaring as he grapples for control. “Are we done here?” he sneers. I can feel his anger as it radiates out of him.

“Stop being a drama queen.” I keep staring at my computer; I don’t want to look at him.

“Kathryn,” he bellows.

“Do not speak to me like that and then barge in here with demands. I’m unsure how things work for you with other women, but I can assure you, it doesn’t cut it with me.”

I can almost feel the atomic bomb as it goes off. Tangible fury radiates out of him.

Without another word he storms from my office and slams the door. The windows rattle from the bang.

Beep, beep.

The horn sounds out on the street. I peer out of my bedroom window and smile and wave when I see the small truck.

Excitement fills me: I get my brother to myself for a whole twenty-four hours. I’ve taken some leave. We’re going back to Mum and Dad’s to pick up what’s left of our things—Elanor has put them into a storage unit for us. Brad has hired a removals truck and I’ve booked us a hotel to stay at tonight.

We’re going to go out for dinner and chill and hang out. Spend some much-needed family time together.

After the shitty week I’ve had, this weekend is a welcome distraction. Elliot Miles is the epitome of cold. He hasn’t looked at me since that day in my office, let alone made eye contact, not once.

And it’s not that he hasn’t had the chance; he’s walked by me in the corridor without any acknowledgment and even caught the same elevator as me this morning, and still not a word.

It’s like I imagined the whole damn thing, and maybe I did?

I don’t know, but I’m sick to death of myself overanalyzing it. If he can move on so easily, I really did do the right thing.

Not that it hurts my feelings or ego any less.

I grab my things and make my way downstairs. “Bye, I’m going,” I call.

Daniel comes out of his room. “Have fun, darling.” He kisses my cheek. “And forget all about Douchebag Miles.”

I smile up at him as I flick the hair out of his eyes. “Who’s that?”

He taps my nose. “That’s the spirit.”

“Where’s Beck?” I ask.

“In the shower.”

“Okay.” I head toward the door. “Say goodbye to her for me.”

“I will . . . oh, and I’ll be here to help you unload tomorrow if you need me.”

“It should be okay, Brad will help. Have a good night,” I call as I head out of the door. I’m hit with the icy conditions and I wrap my jacket around me tighter. “Fuck off, snow,” I mutter under my breath.

I run across the road and climb into the truck. Brad is wearing a trucker cap and he flexes his arm muscle. “Gangster as fuck, in the truck.”

I giggle as I put my seat belt on. “You’re ridiculous.”

He chuckles and pulls out into the street. “Let’s go get our shit.”

“I’m here to collect the belongings from storage unit 405 please?” I smile at the receptionist.

“Of course, we’ve been expecting you.” She turns and goes to the key cupboard and produces a set of keys with a little yellow tag. “Go down aisle five and then turn at the last right. Your unit is the last on the left.”

“Okay, thanks.”

I walk back out and Brad links his arm with mine. This is a hard day, one I never thought in a million years I’d be doing. With trepidation we follow the girl’s directions and get to the storage unit, and Brad puts the key in the lock and slowly pulls up the garage door.

Ten lonely boxes sit at the back of the practically empty locker.

We both blink in surprise; we were expecting a lot more.

“Where’s the rest of it?” I whisper.

Brad shrugs.

Panic sets in—my parents’ whole entire life does not fit into ten boxes. “Where’s the rest of it?” I stammer. “She said she kept everything important.”

Brad takes out his phone and dials Elanor’s number. “Hey. Are we at the right unit? There are only ten boxes here.”

I can hear her talking fast in reply, and my heart begins to hammer hard in my chest. She does that when she’s guilty.

Brad’s haunted eyes meet mine and I know that it’s all gone.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Brad growls. “You knew that we wanted everything, how fucking dare you do this to Kate? I personally had more than ten boxes of things kept at Mum’s and Kate did too.” He marches off as he screams at her and I screw up my face in tears as I look around the virtually empty unit, my heartbeat banging hard in my ears. The thought of losing all their beloved possessions and all of our childhood memories is like losing them all over again.

No . . . she couldn’t do this.

She wouldn’t.

Nobody is that heartless.

“Tell me.” He listens for a moment. “What fucking charity shop, Elanor?” I hear him cry from up the aisle.

I drop to my knees in despair; she donated almost everything. Even Brad’s and my personal belongings. We had so much there, the attic was full of memories.