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“Yeah, we’re just like a couple of puppies.” Amused, Eve sat on the arm of a sofa, sipped at her wine. “It’s a great new number, Mavis. All you.”
“You think? I ran it for Leonardo, and now you two, but nobody else’s seen it.”
“It’s…” Eve remembered Whitney’s comment. “Got juice.”
“That’s what I thought. Roarke, can I tell her?”
“Tell me what?”
Mavis bit her lip, looked to Roarke for agreement, then, at his nod, drew two deep breaths. “Okay. My last disc cut, Curl Your Hair, Roarke got early word that it’s hitting in the top five of next week’s Vid-Tracks. Dallas, I’m fucking number three, right behind the Butt-Busters and Indigo.”
She might not have had a clue who Butt-Busters or Indigo might be, but Eve knew Vid-Tracks was Mavis’s bible. “That’s fabulous.” Eve rose quickly, gave Mavis a hard hug. “You kick ass.”
“Thanks.” Mavis sniffed, wiped a tear off silver-tipped lashes. “You’re the first person I’ve told. I started to call Leonardo, but I want to tell him up-face, you know. And I’m glad I got to tell you first, anyhow. He’ll understand.”
“He’ll go nuts.”
“Yeah. We’ve got some serious celebrating to do. I’m really glad you weren’t late after all, so I could tell you and so you didn’t miss the girl deal.”
Instantly, warning flags sprang up in Eve’s gut, fluttered nervously. “Girl deal?”
“Yeah, you know. Trina’s already down in the pool house setting up. Figured we could use a swim and a spin in the relaxation tank. We’re up for the full treatment.”
“Full treatment?” No, was all Eve could think. Not the full treatment. Anything but that. “Look, Mavis, I just came home to work. I’ve got this case—”
“You’ve always got a case.” Undeterred, Mavis poured herself a glass of wine, then brought the bottle to top Eve’s off as Roarke lazily lighted a cigarette and smiled. “You’ve got to take time for you, or your internal organs get all shriveled and your skin goes saggy. I read all about it. Anyway, Trina’s got some outrageous new body paint.”
“No. Absolutely. I don’t do body paint.”
Mavis rolled her eyes. “For me, Dallas. We know you. But I think you should give it a try one of these days. I bet Roarke would really go for the Gold-Dust. It does amazing things for the boobs. Makes them sparkle.”
“I don’t want sparkling boobs.”
“It’s flavored, too. Frangipani.”
“Really?” Roarke blew out a stream of smoke. “I’m very fond of tropical flavors.”
“See? Anyway, you can think about that after you’re all relaxed and your hair’s gooped up. Summerset made snacks.”
“Goodie. But really, I—oops, there’s the door. I’ll get it.”
She escaped, forcing herself not to simply break into a run, bowl over whoever was at the door, and just keep running until she reached the sanctuary of Cop Central. She beat Summerset there by half a step.
“I’m getting it.”
“Greeting and escorting guests falls into my job requirements,” he reminded her. “Miss Furst is here to see you.” So saying, he bumped Eve aside and opened the door.
“I should have called.” Nadine knew just how Eve felt about reporters in her home. “I’m not here for 75,” she continued quickly. “It’s personal.”
“Good. Fine. Come in.” To Nadine’s surprise, Eve clamped a hand on hers and all but dragged her toward the parlor.
“I’ve taken a couple of days off,” Nadine began.
“I noticed. I didn’t much care for your on-air substitute.”
“He’s a putz. But anyway, I wanted to come by and tell you…” She paused, pulled herself back. “Oh, hi, Mavis.”
“Nadine, hi! Hey, it’s practically a party.” However flighty Mavis seemed on the surface, she had a solid core of sense, with compassion and loyalty wrapped tightly around it. It took less than two seconds for her to see the strain in Nadine’s eyes.
