Chapter 22
Eve
The doorbell wouldn’t stop.
Whoever it was had surely mistakenly rung her buzzer because Eve hadn’t ordered food, and the front desk hadn’t called.
She struggled to zip her dress.
Buzz.
A tiny voice in the corner of her mind wondered if it might be Adam. No, she’d taken him off the guest list and hadn’t heard from him in over three weeks, except for a text the day after she ran away from him in Norway.
Adam: Safe travels. Please call me when you land.
She hadn’t replied.
Adam: We need to talk.
Yeah, no. There was nothing to talk about.
She’d fallen, like an idiot, for a client. A married client. She saw so many in her profession but never, ever dated married men. It was an ironclad rule, and he’d made her unknowingly break it.
Everything she’d feared had happened, but she refused to look back or let herself sink into despair. Again, she’d learned harsh lessons, licked her wounds, and moved on.
Because she knew that looking back, or even thinking about Adam, would destroy her.
Buzz.
“OK, this needs to stop,”
she muttered.
Kicking off her patent Louboutins for speed, she sprinted to the door and checked the peephole.
Lauren.
“Open up, Evie. I know you’re in there.”
Crap.
She’d been avoiding Lauren too. She hadn’t wanted to hear “I told you so”
or even see it in her friend’s frank, penetrating stare. She’d also been afraid she’d break down under Lauren’s scrutiny and questions, and there was no way she’d allow that to happen.
“Go away,”
she ventured weakly.
“Nope. Not happening.”
Eve sighed.
Unlatching the door, she yanked it open. “What?”
One fair eyebrow shot up. “Well, nice to see you too. You sent me cryptic texts about what happened, and then you ghosted me. Not cool.”
She ran a critical assessment up and down, narrowing her pale blue eyes at the sight of Eve’s blue sequined evening dress and elegant hairdo. “Fancy. That’s not one of mine.”
Eve stared right back at her. “I have to leave for work in twenty minutes.”
“Let me in.”
Eve heaved an exasperated sigh. “Fine.”
She opened the door all the way, and Lauren marched right past her, waving a tall, narrow, vertical burlap bag.
“I brought wine.”
She headed for the kitchen.
“Can’t have any. I’m going to work.”
“One glass isn’t going to get you drunk.”
Lauren fished a corkscrew out of her purse and yanked open an upper cabinet. “I brought a corkscrew. Still don’t have wineglasses?”
A vision flashed across Eve’s mind of Adam, in his black T-shirt, asking a similar question and standing in that exact spot. She looked away, only to have her gaze land on the high countertop, which she had tried to cover with potted plants and knickknacks.
Irritation washed over her. “No wineglasses. You know I don’t drink except when I go out.”
“Well, I do, and you will drink with me.”
There was no telling her no. Avoiding the red Solo cups, Eve pulled out mugs instead. She shoved the Route 66 one behind all the others.
Lauren eyed the two mugs. “Really? We’re drinking Stag’s Leap out of Viva Las Vegas mugs?”
“It’s either that or pass the bottle back and forth.”
Lauren grunted her displeasure, then popped the cork and poured. She handed Eve a mug, then carried hers to the couch and flopped down on it, patting the space beside her as if Eve were the guest and not the other way around.
Eve perched on the edge, not exactly comfortable sitting in her skin-tight outfit, nor with her friend’s sharp-eyed assessment.
She knew that critical look and what always followed.
“So, let me get this straight,”
Lauren began.
There it was.
Eve swallowed back a groan and took a sip of the red wine. It was good, but not even close to the complexity of Caymus.
Why was she comparing it to Caymus? She glowered.
If Lauren noticed, she ignored it. “He is married.”
The knife Adam had implanted in her heart that night, the one she’d been desperately trying to ignore, twisted excruciatingly.
“Yup.”
Lauren didn’t buy Eve’s fake nonchalance. She lifted her mug, regarding Eve over the rim. “And how do you feel about that?”
Are you kidding me right now?
Eve gritted her teeth. “All those therapy sessions have made you a sofa shrink all of a sudden?”
“Whoa.”
Lauren tipped her head, pale blue eyes piercing. “A bit testy, are we?”
Eve took a swallow of Cab to suppress another groan. She wasn’t getting out of this, it seemed. “How do you think I feel?”
“Like shit.”
Well, that was blunt. But it was accurate.
“You’re hurt because he lied by omission.”
And now, an understatement, folks. “Uh-huh.”
“I admit, when I told you not to get emotionally involved with the guy, I didn’t think of this scenario. Eleet usually does good background checks.”
“Well, they obviously dropped the ball on this one, so…”
Eve shrugged one shoulder.
“Have you seen him?”
“No.”
“Has he reached out?”
“Once. Texted, saying we needed to talk.”
“Right after you left?”
“Yes.”
She took a big swallow of wine. “There’s no point in talking. What good would it do? It’s not like I can turn back time and make him magically single.”
“Anything else besides that text?”
A knot tied in Eve’s throat. “Orchids, or roses, every few days. I left them with the desk ladies downstairs. I never read the cards.”
“Calls? Texts?”
“I blocked his number.”
A long pause. “And I thought I was the bullheaded one.”
Lauren shook her head. “I see you’ve gone back to Eleet.”
A bitter laugh escaped Eve. “I never left.”
“Back to your regulars?”
“Sort of.”
“What do you mean, sort of?”
“I only take companion appointments now.”
After Adam, anything other than older men needing arm candy had been out of the question.
“That’s mostly what you were doing before…”
Before him.
“Clients over sixty-five.”
Lauren stared at her. “Old guys? How do you service them?”
“I don’t. Just model lingerie once in a while.”
Lauren’s eyes narrowed. “That is a lot less money. I thought you wanted to get out.”
“It pays the bills.”
“Does it also pay for school?”
“It’s going to take longer now,”
Eve admitted. She finished the last of her wine and set her mug down with a clink. “Thank you for checking up on me. If I don’t leave now, I’ll be late for my appointment.”
Lauren caught her wrist.
Eve heaved an impatient sigh. “What?”
“Do you love him?”
Yes.
“I don’t know.”
Eve stared at the floor.
“I call BS. Give him a chance. You don’t owe it to him, Evie; you owe it to yourself. Before you throw it all away, see if something is still worth salvaging.”
She couldn’t believe what her friend was saying. “You are the one who told me to avoid—”
“I know what I said. It’s too late now. You’re miserable. Clearly, you’ve already fallen for the guy. And if he’s trying so hard and refusing to give up, maybe you’ve got your Prince Charming with the fairy-tale ending, after all.”
Lauren’s blue gaze was steady. “How long ago did his wife dump him?”
Eve blinked. She hadn’t thought of it as Adam getting dumped. “Seven years ago.”
Lauren’s eyes widened. “That long ago? And he hasn’t seen her since?”
“I don’t know if he has.”
Lauren squeezed Eve’s hand. “Don’t you think you should find out exactly what he wants to do?”
Adam had said things about papers and a divorce. But she’d just come apart and had been too deep in her own head to hear him.
Eve didn’t look up. “I’m already really late.”
Lauren was silent for a beat. “Yeah. I’m done lecturing. Come here.”
She held out her arms and gave Eve a tight hug. “Now, you go on to work. I’ll wash these mugs and lock the door behind me.”