Unexpected Eva (Triple Trouble #3)(54)

Positioning ourselves again, I inhale to announce the next song when, without notice, a voice whines from the entryway.

“Ah, you are here. Lincoln said this is where you would be, but seeing is believing.”

Wonderful. Castleview Cove's very own rich girl.

Tabitha MacEvoy.

Loaded. Confident. Connected.

“Tabby?” Knox scowls. “What are you doing here?”

“This place is like a revolving door tonight,” I mutter under my breath.

Never letting me go, he grips my waist tightly as if telling me to hold firm.

Tabitha bats her eyelashes, flipping her hair over her shoulder with defiance. “I went up to the hotel to find you. Lincoln checked your online calendar, told me you were here, and you’d bought dance lessons for me and I should be here too.”

Bloody Lincoln.

She is undeniably beautiful. From head to toe, Tabitha is immaculate. Every day. There is never an ice-blond hair out of place on her sleek bob. Today is no different. She is wearing a pale-mint button-up silk shirt tucked into a tight racing-green calf-length pencil skirt, and heels. Always heels. There is no way she works on the whisky distillery floor.

She’s a paper pusher at best.

“I didn’t receive my calendar request like I normally do from you, Knox.”

Does he calendar request sex dates?

How impersonal.

Scheduled.

I bet my life on it she’s a missionary position woman.

Yuck.

Stop thinking about them together.

“It’s my fault.” Covering for Knox, I fire out, “I should have sent the request.”

“Ah, well, that explains it. Sloppy disorganization.” With a judgmental gaze, Tabitha explores our modern dance studio, leaving no inch of the space untouched. “I can’t imagine you have systemized processes or a good business head on those artsy-fartsy shoulders of yours for this place,” she mumbles under her breath.

She can’t seriously be so far out of touch to think I wouldn’t hear that?

Bitch.

Through the grapevine, I’ve heard Tabitha MacEvoy treats her workers like peasants. The local restaurants despair when she makes reservations. I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting her before. I’m suddenly grateful for that. She’s deeply unpleasant and rude.

She may speak to her own personnel in that manner and tone, but I’m not letting her get away with her defamatory comments. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that, Tabitha. Please do not come into my dance studio and criticize my thriving business.”

She screws her face up and snaps her neck back as if I slapped her.

Knox bites down on his lip to hide a smile. He’s proud of me for sticking up for myself.

I give him a get this bitch out of my studio glare.

“You should mind your manners, Tabby, and I didn’t invite you because I wanted to take the lessons myself,” he says through a tense jaw.

“Ah, were you going to surprise me at The Sanctuary Winter Ball? How romantic.”

Looking away, I bow my head and remove myself from Knox’s arms. “I think our lesson is over.”

“You should leave, Tabby.”

I smile inside at Knox’s words.

“Don’t be like that, Knox. I wanted to speak to you. You’ve been ignoring me for around four months, and then I find you here. I can’t believe you are learning to dance for me. Now this all makes sense,” Tabitha gasps with wonder.

She’s delusional.

Knox was telling the truth. The last time he and Tabitha were together was months ago.

“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for myself. I wanted to learn from the best dance teacher in Scotland. She just so happens to be right on our doorstep. Tonight is my first lesson, Tabby.” Knox stands firm.

“Oh, yeah?” Tabitha responds, all wide-eyed and confused.

Well, this is awkward.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, Tabby.” He turns his back on her, ending the conversation.

Why is he calling her tomorrow?

As if he’s thrown her a lifeline, this seems to appease her. She flashes him a dreamy smile. “I’ll wait by my phone for you to call, then.”

Oh, please get the hell out of my dance studio.

“Speak tomorrow,” Knox says back over his shoulder. His cold shoulder.

Rooted to the spot, Tabitha stands in place.

Take the hint, Tabitha. You look pathetic.

“Bye, Eva.” She gives me a flirty wave as she skips out of my studio.

Her vibe is off. Way off.

What a weirdo.

Hearing her drive out of the gravel driveway, I wait a beat before I ask Knox, “Sorry, tell me exactly how you ended up sleeping with her for three years.” I point in the exit's direction. “She’s one crazy-ass woman. Has she got some kind of frontal lobe dysfunction? She didn’t even apologize for being rude to me. You and her don’t make any sense. Like ketchup and ice cream, you don’t go together. She’s the ketchup by the way—acidic.” I shudder.

I’m completely flabbergasted.

Out of the blue, Knox breaks into deep, spontaneous laughter. His powerful shoulders and chest bounce up and down. “I don’t think anyone has told Tabby off in years.” His eyes gleam with amusement. He shakes his head. “You are something else, Sunshine.”