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And yet...he and Eva had been having fun in a bubble. He hadn’t met her friends, and she hadn’t met his, or interacted with his colleagues. The Boyce client dinner was a week and a half away, the Saturday before she went back to California, and he had yet to answer battle-ax Delores’s increasingly annoyed emails and calls as to whether he was bringing a date.
Ames still had to get over or come to terms with his issues about Eva’s appearance. He also still had to come to terms with being someone who cared that much about appearance. He wasn’t sure he liked that about himself.
Round and round and round he goes, where he—
“You’ve got chicken gumbo on the stove, and I am gone.” Jean stared suspiciously into his office, working to control a smile. “What, daydreaming again? Whatsa matter with you—you in love or something? Get back to work!”
“Jean.” He closed a client file and stood, drawing his hands down his face. “I’m closing shop.”
“Already?” She stared at her enormous black watch. “It’s only five. That’s when normal people knock off.”
“Maybe I’m getting normal.”
She smirked at him. “Anyone coming over to keep you company tonight?”
“No.” He acted surprised. “Should there be?”
Jean threw up her hands. “No, of course not. You should be alone every night with your balls shriveling and turning blue.”
“Ooh.” He cringed. “Thanks for that image.”
“You call her right now and invite her over for gumbo or I swear you’ll die alone. I’m outta here. You take care, Ames.”
“Thanks, Jean. See you Thursday.”
“Only if I live that long...” She stalked out of the office. A few seconds later, the front door closed behind her.
Ames walked into his living room. Then his bedroom. Then the kitchen.
Maybe he should call Eva.
He looked into the refrigerator, pulled out a beer, popped off the top and took a swig.
No. Nothing had been said, but he was pretty sure they both needed a night off after yesterday’s intensity after hours at NYEspresso. Certainly he did. Today felt like some kind of crossroads. Either he had to decide he couldn’t get serious with a woman who lived across the country and who wouldn’t blend into the rarefied environments that were inevitably part of his life, or decide he could. Pull back or move forward.
Which?
Back in his living room, he gazed out at the terrace, perfect for hanging out on summer evenings, big enough for entertaining. He’d done very little of either, always on the road or sitting at his desk.
Where had those plans gone? When was the moment he’d been sucked in over his head for the job, both in amount of time and attitude? How had he let so much slip through his fingers? How much more of his life would he have missed out on if he hadn’t met Eva?
Maybe he should call her.
He took another swig of beer, paralyzed by indecision.
No. No. Not tonight.
* * *
EVA LET HERSELF into her apartment. She was tired. Work had been exciting today; the changes to the decor had gotten lots of talk, at least. She thought maybe a few people had lingered longer than normal, but one day wasn’t nearly enough to compile meaningful statistics.
After work, she’d wanted nothing more than to show up at Ames’s condo with dinner or some other offering and distract him from whatever he was doing in a thoroughly naughty and fabulous manner.
But.
She was under the impression they both needed a break after yesterday. She sure did. Their relationship had been so easy and energizing when she’d been in the lead, dragging him around to play mini golf, shaking up his life, changing his routine, interrupting his shower....
Now she was the one shaken up and changing. Now her life plan was in danger of being interrupted.
“Yes! Oh, my God, I loved that show! She was amazing, wasn’t she?” Natalie’s voice emerged from her bedroom as Eva went past. A male voice mumbled unintelligibly on the other end. Eva glanced in to nod and say hi.
Oh, my gosh!
She stopped on the other side of the door, dying to backtrack and peek in again.
Natalie had been draped over her bed on her stomach, bare feet waving in the air, phone pressed to her ear, cheeks flushed, eyes shining.
