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“As if it’s ever been any other way.”
“I know, I know.” She secured the second earring and lifted the phone from her shoulder, tipping her head the other way to ease the cramp in her neck. “So, I have finished making myself irresistible, I gotta go.”
“Go where?”
“Not telling!”
“You’re going out with Ames again, aren’t you,”
“Maybe. What are you doing today?”
“Not telling!”
“Say hi to Gus.”
“Say hi to Ames!”
Eva hung up the phone, giggling. Chris was a smart woman. She’d figure out sooner or later that Gus might be insanely hot, but he was also a member of a less evolved species. That was inevitable. In the meantime, Chris had some man fun to think about in her new surroundings, though why Zac had rubbed her the wrong way Eva couldn’t imagine. If Eva could have fallen passionately in love with Zac sometime over the past three years since she’d opened Slow Pour and he’d become a regular, she would have. In fact, she wished she could call him right now, but he was crazy busy with applications and she was having adventures here, and they’d agreed before she left that it would be easier, especially if they met other people, to stay away from each other. Maybe he’d already fallen in love with Chris. Most guys did.
Having settled on her outfit, she left the shop and ran to Happy Family restaurant to pick up her order, then hurried around to Ames’s building on Forty-Third Street, where she greeted the doorman, Frank, a friendly soul in an NFL player’s body.
“Hi, Eva. I’m well, thanks. How are you this evening?”
“I’m in a great mood. Is Ames in? He’s not expecting me.” She held up the bag of takeout. “I’ve got his favorites.”
She had no idea if Ames even liked chicken with black-bean sauce or shrimp with cashews, let alone loved them enough to label favorites, but she wanted in on Frank’s good side.
“He’s a lucky guy.” Frank picked up the phone and dialed. “Hello, Mr. Cooke, this is Frank downstairs. Eva Meyer is here to see you.”
She held up the bag and pointed insistently.
“With dinner,” Frank added.
She gave him a thumbs-up.
“Ah.” Frank’s smile faded.
Eva faked a cough to cover her nervous giggle. Poor Frank. Poor Ames! All flustered and probably pissed off. He was perfectly welcome to tell her to go away if he wanted to.
She just hoped he wouldn’t want to.
Frank hung up the phone and cleared his throat, avoiding her eyes. “You can go up. Six B.”
Yes! She nearly keeled over with relief, already on her way to the elevator. “Thanks, Frank!”
Tick, tick, tick...the elevator could not have gone slower. At least she was alone, so no one would bear witness to her very entertaining dance of joy with takeout.
At the sixth floor, she tumbled out and raced for his door, then stopped and adopted a casual oh-so-cool attitude before she rang the bell.
Poor grouchy Ames was in for the night of his life.
5
AMES OPENED THE door looking like a very sexy, disheveled, unshowered thundercloud. “Eva.”
“Hello, Ames.”
“What are you doing here?”
She held up the bag. “Bringing you dinner. What are you doing here?”
“I live here.”
“So you say. May I come in?”
“Aw, jeez, Eva...” Ames shoved his hand through his bedhead, scowling. “It’s not really a good time.”
She gasped, pretending horror. “You have another woman over?”
“No.” He spoke immediately and then looked as if he wished he could take the word back.
“You’re in the middle of something really important?”
Ames glanced at the bag, then at her. The pungent, salty smell was enticing. “Uh...sort of.”
“Work?”
He looked exasperated. “No, not really.”
“Goofing off having a lazy, sloppy, smelly Saturday by yourself watching TV and planning cheese, crackers and beer for dinner and you don’t want to admit it?”
He stared at her, then broke into a chuckle. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?” Eva blinked innocently. She hadn’t done anything. She was just in good touch with her instincts. “Can I come in?”
