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Izzy appeared at my elbow, eager to take our order, and reminded me that we were not, in fact, the only people in the restaurant.Mercy. At this rate, I'd make an ass of myself in no time, cementing my role in Eve's life as the jerk she couldn't wait to be rid of.
"What can I get you?" Izzy asked, her pen poised over her order pad.
"You choose," I said, voice hoarse.
"How about your Campfire Special?" Eve asked, glancing at me. "That okay with you?"
"Sure." She could have told me we'd be eating beetles and I would have agreed. Simp. "And a beer," I said, feeling desperate.
"Drinking on a school night?" Eve's arched brows communicated her disbelief, and I pulled at my collar, striving for something I could say that wouldn't escalate things further.
"I'm shepherding twenty angsty teenagers through a school play. Can you blame me?"
For the first time, Eve seemed to truly relax, shaking her head.
"I would have thought you'd have enough on your plate with just your regular job as their principal."
"What about you?" I asked lightly. "How do you have the time to help me, put together the Winter Warmth Auction, and run your shop?"
Eve's nose wrinkled, the move impossibly cute. "I don't. But ifsomeonewould let me out of theSnow Queencommitment, maybe I'll be able to keep my head above water."
Feeling like an ass, but unwilling to give up on her help, I lifted my shoulders. "Sorry, Tiger, but I need you." Rushing ahead to obscure how deep my neediness ran, I said, "And you need something from me too."
Her expression cooled at the reminder. Part of me regretted putting us back on quid pro quo terms, the light of kinship dying in her eyes as I reminded her that we'd negotiated a trade: her help for auction space. I wished I could have afforded to just give her what she wanted, but I'd been in dire straits with Mrs. Hernandez out. Only the fact that we were doing it for the kids eased my conscience.
Eve straightened, meeting my gaze. "Right." Her lip tilted in a fake smile, the insincerity plain. "Well, let's talk about those schedules, Principal Gleason. This play isn't going to orchestrate itself." She nodded to my phone and reluctantly, I picked it up, opening my schedule.
We chatted civilly about each set, the dates Eve needed to work with the crew, and my plans for getting the cast off-script in time for their performances. Eve surprised me, offering suggestions for exercises that would help. She seemed to know what she was talking about.
"You've done plays before?" I asked.
She paused, as if weighing if I was worth this crumb of her past before nodding. "Once upon a time."
"Did you do community theater, or high school drama?" I asked, wondering if I could pry anything more out of her. Eve was notoriously closed-lipped about her life pre-Campfire. Her accent placed her on the west coast, but she'd been vague about where she was from.
"Mmh," she murmured noncommittally, smiling at Izzy as she dropped off my beer and Eve's water.
"Your pizza will be out in two shakes," Izzy said. "Need anything else?"
"No thanks, Izzy."
"Have you thought about your auction offer?" Eve asked.
Watching her steadily, I was sure she'd changed the subject to avoid more questions about her past, but something about the stubborn gleam in her eyes dared me to try to backtrack.
"How about a courtside sofa date at a varsity basketball game, with delivery from Slice?" I asked, throwing out the first idea I could come up with.
"That sounds like something you'd offer as a pep assembly prize," Eve accused, nose wrinkled.
"It is," I admitted.
"Bra-dy," she chided gently.
If she ever found out how much the slow cadence she added to my name grabbed me by the balls, there'd be no stopping her. It took everything I had to pretend indifference to Eve's charms, to feign cool.
I arched a brow. "What?"
"It's a bachelor auction, not a school spirit event. We want packages that are uniquelyyou."
