The Naked Truth
“We might not see it that way right now,” she admitted, “but on Monday we will. And we’ll probably be sorry.” She felt the bullet shape of her cell phone under her fingers, through her bag. “Do you mind walking me to the lobby? There’s a cab line out front.”
“You’re not taking a cab.” He fired up the engine and fastened his seat belt once more. “I’ll take you home.”
She put a hand on his arm. “No, Mitch, a cab’s fine. Really. I’m not far from here.”
“In that case, it won’t take us long.” He backed out of the parking stall and she gave in.
“You don’t plan on stalking me once you know where I live, do you?” she asked, directing him to turn left at the intersection.
“It’s not a bad idea,” he said, “but I believe we have a date for tomorrow. This way, I can pick you up. Turn here?”
“The second right, then the first left. Were you serious about tomorrow?”
“Certainly.” His sidelong glance tracked lazily down her body, reminding her vividly that he hadn’t wanted her to wear underwear. “Breakfast, lunch, whatever you want. You could show me around. If you don’t have plans, that is.”
She couldn’t have told him what her calendar said if her life depended on it. That hungry gaze sent a ripple of desire through her belly. And it reminded her of how very dangerous it was to spend any more time with this man than it took to say no and show him the door.
“The white bungalow, there,” she managed to say. “Number 954.”
He turned into her driveway and parked, looking over the front of her house. “Nice,” he said. “Smaller than I would have expected for a celebrity. And the rambling roses over the door are a nice touch.”
You could still invite him in, the treacherous voice of her desire whispered. You could still have him, if that look a minute ago was any indication.
“Thanks.” She cleared her throat. “It used to be a carriage house for that mansion there.” She pointed through the trees. “But it’s big enough for me. Big houses are for big families…or big egos. None of which apply here.”
He glanced at her. “You haven’t answered my question.”
“Which one was that?”
“Whether I can see you tomorrow.” A dozen different answers crashed into one another in her mind, and he seemed to think that her hesitation meant she needed convincing. “Take pity on a Yankee, Eve,” he said. “What am I going to do with myself for two days if you don’t help me out?”
She was absolutely sure he’d have no problem finding something. The Braves were playing, there were concerts galore all over town, and at least two art exhibits were scheduled to open the next day.
“Come on,” he wheedled. “Let’s forget our job titles and the size of our in-boxes and do something fun, all right?”
Absolutely not. The more time she spent with him, the more difficult it would be to see him on Monday. The show came first. The words organized in her mind, she opened her mouth to say them.
“All right,” she said. “But I’m wearing a bra.”
5
THE WARMTH OF THE SUN on her eyelids woke Eve, telling her she’d forgotten to close the drapes before she’d gone to sleep the night before. No wonder. Her mind had been such a maelstrom of sex and ethics and work worries that it was a miracle she’d remembered to lock the front door.
But then, Mitch had been on the other side of it, sitting in the car with the engine running until she’d let herself inside and turned the porch light on and off. She hadn’t locked him out. Oh, no. She’d locked herself in, away from him.
She’d done the right thing. Okay, so maybe it hadn’t been so smart to agree to see him today, but after all, what could happen in broad daylight? Last night had been a combination of champagne, dancing and moonlight; that was it. Now that she’d had some sleep and could think rationally, it’d be easy to keep her distance.
In fact, she could practice saying no all day to get herself in shape for saying it again on Monday.
She’d just started a pot of coffee when the phone rang. And here he was. When he’d asked for her phone number as she was getting out of the car, she’d given it to him, figuring it was better that he call instead of driving over here. Maybe he’d be happy with a phone call. Maybe he’d reconsidered seeing her.
“Eve, it’s Jane.”
Eve took a moment to regroup. Jane, not Mitch. Well, that was a relief.
Wasn’t it? “Hey, sweetie. I thought you were going to the benefit, but I didn’t see you.”
“No, we, uh, didn’t make it out of the bedroom once I got my stockings on. Perry calls me his sexy librarian.”
Eve smiled. At least someone was getting some action in the bedroom. If it couldn’t be her, she was glad it was Jane. After all she’d been through, Jane deserved every minute of the happiness she’d found with Perry.
“Stockings and high heels will do it every time. So, what’s up?”
Jane hesitated. “Can I talk to you?”
“Sure.” She pulled out a kitchen chair and made herself comfortable while the coffee dripped. “I’ve got nothing but time.” And while she was talking to Jane, Mitch couldn’t get through. And if he couldn’t get through, she could push off seeing him.
“Not over the phone. I’d rather talk in person.”
A chill wriggled through Eve’s stomach. “What’s the matter?”
“Can’t we—”
“Jane, you can’t say something like that and not expect me to ask. What’s going on? Are you okay? Did something happen?”
Jane sighed. “I’m fine, nothing happened. Relax. I’ve just been thinking, that’s all.”
“About what?” What could she possibly need a face-to-face for when they saw each other daily and talked all the time?
“I—I’ve been thinking about the future. About my place on the show, given all the rumors flying around the station about the networks coming to call.”
For a second, Eve forgot to breathe. Her lungs constricted, and she took a deep breath. “I’m listening.”
“Perry’s won his lawsuit. Once we win ours, he and I can move anywhere we want. Travel. Do the things I’ve always wanted to do but never had the guts or the reason. Don’t get me wrong—I’m yours for life if you want me, and I’d never leave the show just on a whim. But with the possibility of change in the future, I wanted to sound you out about it.”
Eve squelched the urge to wail, But you’re my best friend! What about me? With Jane, the facts worked best. If she could ground her argument in facts rather than emotion, she had a chance.
“Don’t forget we haven’t actually got the money yet. Wouldn’t it be wiser to go on as usual until we have the checks in our hands?”
“If you’re talking about the lawsuit, Liza has absolutely no grounds to stand on. The case will be thrown out.”
“It hasn’t yet, and how many hearings have we been to?” Eve asked. “It would be foolish to go into even more debt booking trips and buying land or whatever our dreams might be, when we may never see the money. Or at least, not for months or even years.”
“Don’t say that,” Jane groaned.
“Let’s look at reality.” Ha, that was pretty clever. Use one of Jane’s favorite expressions on her. “Until the lawsuit’s settled, we need to go on as usual. And if the show goes on, it’ll need you. I’m not setting foot in that studio without you to put my face on.”
“Makeup artists are a dime a dozen,” Jane said. “The minute the word gets out that the thought has even crossed my mind, the applicants will be lining up around the block along with the studio audience.”
“Your usual artist might be a dime a dozen,” Eve allowed, “but you’re not. You gave me my signature look with that nifty Swiss foundation. And don’t forget how valuable you are in the brainstorming department. Would we have done the ‘High School Reunion Makeover’ episode and broken a ratings record?”
“That was a lot of fun…”
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