Something About Eve

by Debra Salonen

  “I don’t think pneumonia’s contagious,” one of the other guys—Brad or Brett, Ashley wasn’t sure which—said, leaning over the seat. Jarrod’s car was no beauty but it held four without too much crowding.

  Ashley tried to think fast, but she was tired and more than a little scared. The repercussions of her escape would catch up with her as soon as she saw her father. That would be bad enough without getting these guys involved.

  “My grandma’s a nurse and she’s the one who suggested I go visit my dad until Mom gets better.” Ashley made sure her voice carried a thick coating of “who cares what you think.” Brad or Brett slunk back to his corner.

  “Well, I guess you know what you’re doing,” Jarrod said with a sigh. “We could hang around for a few minutes, if you wanna check with the doorman.”

  Ashley shook her head. “Naw. I don’t want to keep you. I’ll be fine.” She opened the door and crawled out of the car. A stiff breeze almost took off her stocking cap.

  Brad or Brett passed her backpack over the seat and Ashley leaned down to grab the strap. “Thanks, guys. See ya’.”

  “Hey, wait,” Jarrod called before she could slam the door. “Don’t forget about the picture. Your mom promised to get me an autographed picture of Eve Masterson if I did this.”

  Ashley swallowed. Another lie. “No problem. I’ll get your address from Bridg and mail it to you.” Her life had become nothing but one big lie. And it was all her mother’s fault. “Bye.”

  She closed the door firmly and stepped back. A moment later the little black car disappeared into traffic and Ashley was alone. All alone. In a strange city. With sixty bucks to her name. Her Christmas money.

  Christmas. When was that? A million years ago?

  Before she could work up enough nerve to plead her case to the doorman, a white van came to a screeching halt two parking places away. Three people piled out of it, a woman and two men, one carrying a big camera. Ashley had seen a crew filming a Woody Allen movie back home so she knew right away what was happening.

  The threesome plowed past her, talking in low, urgent tones that made Ashley nervous. Not a minute passed before a taxi pulled up to the curb outside Eve’s building. A man got out. Dad.

  Before Ashley could say anything, he leaned down to help someone else out of the vehicle. A woman. Ashley barely caught a snippet of red before the camera crew attacked.

  Her pulse hammering, Ashley hurried toward the fray. Energy crackled; voices rose and Ashley had a brief glimpse of her father’s angry face and tense shoulders as he tried to make headway past the leech-like interviewer.

  “Miss Masterson, can you tell us where you’ve been? What happened to you? Were you in a drug treatment center? Are you better now?” The questions pierced the air like bullets, but Ashley’s dad provided a screen to protect the woman Ashley could barely make out.

  The whole group, along with the doorman, who was carrying several oddly wrapped parcels, surged toward the door. To Ashley’s horror, her father faltered at the first step. His knee. “Daddy,” she cried out.

  The reporters—and a big black camera—turned on her. Ashley’s heart stopped. Her tongue froze like a big wad of gum in her mouth. She couldn’t have spoken if her life had depended on it.

  “Ashley, thank God,” her father said, rushing to her side.

  She barely noticed. There was something intoxicating about being in front of a camera. She suddenly remembered to smile, and instead of looking at her father, she gave the camera her most practiced smile—the one Bridgett said made Ashley look like Wynona Ryder.

  “Ashley.” Her father’s bark caught her attention.

  “Hi, Daddy,” she said, torn between smiling at him and at the camera.

  His big hand caught her mittened paw and tugged. Hard. She went flying forward into the hollow of his armpit. A muffled jabbering of questions followed them inside, but Ashley missed them all thanks to her father’s protective hug.

  Once within the way-too-silent shell of the elevator, Ashley looked around. Her knees were a little wobbly, but she still felt energized by the encounter out front. She knew her father’s rigid stance meant she was in big trouble, but she couldn’t stifle a grin. She looked at Eve Masterson—every bit as beautiful, although quite a bit shorter than Ashley had pictured. The woman gave her a shy smile.

  Ashley took that as an opening. “Wow. That was like the coolest thing in my whole life. I can’t wait to tell Bridgett. Do you think I’ll be on television?”

  Eve’s initial smile faded, and when she looked at Ashley’s dad, there was a bleak look in her eyes—almost as if she was ready to cry. She whispered something too low for Ashley to catch, but it sounded like “I’m sorry.”

  AN HOUR LATER, Matt set the coffee mug down with exquisite care, fighting the temptation to slam it. His nerves were cracked—windshield brittle and ready to explode in every direction. His head still throbbed from Ashley’s bombshell. “Mom’s pregnant,” Ashley had wailed when they were safely in Eve’s apartment. “Do you know what that means? Everything changes, Daddy. Everything.”

  He heard Eve in the hallway. She was making sure Ashley had all the necessary toiletries to spend the night. He clenched his jaw so tight his teeth squeaked.

  “I think she’ll be fine,” Eve said, joining him in the kitchen. “She forgot toothpaste but I had an extra tube in the medicine chest. I’m more organized than I thought.”

  “This was a mistake,” Matt said softly. Anger always pushed him to the other extreme. Ashley hated loud fights.

  “The toothpaste?”

  “Staying here.” He nudged the cup out of the range of fire. In the mirror-like reflection of the window he could see Eve standing behind him. She wore her demure “granny” robe, but even with her hair plaited down her back and scruffy slippers, she looked provocative.

  Their brief collision with the press had been an eye-opening experience. Navigating under her own power, functioning in a world she knew and understood, Eve was a stranger to him. A beautiful, glamorous stranger.

  “It’s just for one night, Matt,” she said, reaching for the stack of mail he’d left on the counter. “It didn’t make any sense to go out and find a motel with those reporters hovering.”

  “How did they know you were coming home tonight?”

  One slim shoulder rose and fell. “We were probably spotted at the airport. Does it matter?”

  “To me it matters. I’m not a celebrity. My daughter is not a celebrity. My life doesn’t revolve around being seen, and I want to keep it that way.”

  He heard her shuffle away. Glancing over his shoulder he saw her disappear down the hall. That she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of an argument fueled his anger. One voice cautioned that this wasn’t her fault, but Matt couldn’t get past the sickening sensation of seeing Ashley preen and flirt with the camera. It had seemed second nature to her, and the idea of his daughter falling into the kind of life that had nearly killed Eve made him nauseous.

  He went after her, pausing at the door of the bathroom. The sound of the shower running meant he had time to finish this once and for all. It wasn’t what his heart wanted, but it was the smart thing—the right thing to do.

  “We’re leaving first thing in the morning.”

  Eve had removed her robe and draped it across an upholstered chair. Her flannel nightshirt was modest, knee-length. Far from sexy, but that didn’t keep his body from responding. He glanced around. The room was a mess—her suitcase open, the packages from Mexico in a pile in the corner. Matt’s hammock chair rested at an angle against the closet door.

  “I’ll have that shipped to you if you leave me your address,” Eve said, apparently noticing the direction of his gaze.

  Matt withdrew his wallet from his hip pocket and took out a business card. He walked to the dresser, which was a jumble of cosmetics, jewelry and what-not. Eve’s fuzzy red beret and mittens were wedged beneath her purse. He placed the card beside them then glanced up.


  Her bottom lip quivered, but she didn’t speak.

  “It wasn’t meant to be, Eve. We’re from different worlds. Ashley’s at an impressionable age and…”

  “I’d be a bad influence on her,” she finished, her tone hollow.

  “Not you, but your lifestyle.”

  She laughed bitterly. “Look around, Matt. Does this strike you as the lifestyle of the rich and famous? I work for a living, just like you.”

  Matt shook his head. “No. Not even close. Your work keeps you in the public eye, and you told me yourself you need that kind of adoration. But the thing is, it’s an illusion. A dangerous illusion. One wrong move—one Barry—and you become fodder for the next talk show.”

  Eve put a hand to her forehead. He was too attuned to her not to sense her fatigue. She’d been a trouper ever since he found out Ashley had run away. When he wanted to blame himself for not being there when his daughter needed him, Eve had shored him up.

  Even the scene in front of the building would have been worse if she hadn’t promised the vultures a press conference the next morning. He knew she wasn’t ready for that kind of dramatic confrontation, but it let Matt and Ashley off the hook because they’d be long gone before it happened.

  “You’re bushed, Eve. Go to bed. Ashley and I will slip out in the morning so you can sleep in a little.”

  Her shoulders stiffened. “Wishful thinking. Tomorrow I pay the piper,” she said, her voice flat. “With no knight in shining armor to protect me.” Her lips twitched in a semblance of the woman he’d known and loved in Mexico. “I’ve grown pretty fond of those shoulders clearing a path for me.”

  Matt frowned. “I did promise Bo I’d make sure you were safe. If Ashley weren’t here…”

  Eve stepped closer. The scent of her shampoo brought a longing so intense he had to clench his fist to keep from reaching out to touch her. “I understand, Matt. I’ll be fine. Ren told me I’ve got one of the best lawyers in town on my side.”

  Eve had talked with Ren while Matt and Ashley used the cell phone to make their calls. “Did he give you any idea what will happen?”

  “Not really. I’m prepared to do whatever I can to smooth things over. I don’t want a legal battle any more than Communitex does. I’m hoping without Barry fueling the fire, we can work something out. Now that I’m feeling better, I’d really like a chance to do what I was hired to do.”

  Matt respected her sense of integrity and her goals, but he knew he couldn’t stay. He had his daughter’s needs to consider.

  “Don’t let them wear you down, Eve,” he said, trying to keep any tenderness from his tone. He turned away, but she stopped him with a light touch. “Matt. A kiss goodbye?”

  He hesitated. There was yearning in her tone. He wanted to say yes, but he shook his head instead. “It’s late. Ashley and I have to get up early. Good night, Eve. Good luck tomorrow.”

  That should have been it, but halfway to the door his knee buckled. Eve flew to his side, lending the support he needed to keep from falling on his face. With a low groan, he closed his arms around her, picking her up enough that her body fit against him—man parts to woman parts in perfect harmony. He kissed her hard, like a convicted man saying goodbye to freedom.

  Lost in her smell, her taste, he almost missed the small gasping sound behind him. A premonition of doom hit him the instant he heard his daughter say, “Daddy?”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  EVE PULLED BACK in horror. She’d tried so hard to be cool in front of Matt’s daughter. She’d made a concentrated effort to play down any sort of relationship between her and Matt in light of Ashley’s tearful announcement that the reason she’d run away from home was that her mother was pregnant. Eve knew the girl didn’t need anything as threatening as a new woman in her father’s life to fuel the fire of her teenage angst.

  Thankful for her years of experience in interviewing reluctant subjects, Eve stepped away from Matt and walked to Ashley.

  “This might be a good time to talk,” she said, taking the girl’s elbow. “Matt, would you care to join us?”

  Eve was certain the last thing Matt wanted was for Ashley to have more contact with Eve, but she knew from experience that things brushed under the rug could trip you up in later life.

  They walked to the living room. Eve sat on the sofa and indicated Ashley should sit beside her. Matt chose the recliner across from them. Eve took a big breath then said, “Ashley, you’re almost thirteen, right? You’ve probably formed some opinions about men and women, love and relationships.”

  Ashley nodded. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and Eve’s heart twisted at the girl’s rapt look. God, help me to say the right thing. “I don’t mean to insult you, but a lot of what people—especially teenagers—think about life is influenced by what they see on television and in the movies. But life is much more complicated.”

  She glanced at Matt and was encouraged by the nod he gave her. “You know from your parents’ experience that relationships don’t always work out. Just because you love a person doesn’t mean you’re destined to live happily ever after. Sometimes you figure that out right away, sometimes it takes a while.”

  Ashley started to fidget, so Eve decided to cut to the chase. “What you need to know about your father and me is that we figured out right away that what we feel for each other isn’t that fairy-tale kind of love. He’s a wonderful man. He saved my life. And sometimes, when you survive something as scary as what I went through, it’s easy to mistake gratitude for something deeper.”

  Ashley’s frown was so like Matt’s, Eve almost reached out to touch her face. But she refrained. “So that kiss was…a goodbye kiss,” she said, keeping her tone as even as possible. “Tomorrow, you two fly home to New York.”

  No one said anything for few seconds then Ashley looked at Eve shyly. “I know I shouldn’t ask, but do you think I could have a couple of signed pictures? I kinda promised my friend’s brother. He’s the one who drove me down here.”

  Matt made an annoyed sound, but Eve jumped to her feet. “Sure. No problem. If I can find them in this mess.” She frowned, trying to figure out where her promotional materials might be. Maybe in the box in the guest room. “Follow me.”

  “She’ll be there in a minute,” Matt said. His serious tone made Eve gulp as she hurried to the room that she’d once shared with Matt. That night was a far cry from their passion a mere twenty-four hours earlier, but Eve still treasured the memory.

  She clamped down on the sadness that swamped her. She’d have time to grieve later—after Matt and Ashley were gone. In the meantime, she would do the right thing. The brave thing. The Matt thing.

  When the door opened a little while later, Eve looked up from her spot on the floor, where she was surrounded by the clutter that had filled her desk drawers. Ashley’s eyes were puffy and her nose was red. Eve’s heart went out to her. The teen years were so damn tough—even without all that Ashley was facing.

  “Have a seat,” Eve said. “I know they’re in here somewhere.”

  Ashley plunked to the ground like a puppet freed of its strings.

  “Are you grounded for life?” Eve asked, trying to sound friendly but not flip.

  “And then some,” Ashley muttered.

  “If you could have seen the panic on your dad’s face when we heard that you’d run away, you’d understand why he’s so upset with you.” Eve pictured Matt’s anguish. “I can only imagine the fear, the frustration of not being able to do anything when the safety of someone you love is in jeopardy.”

  For some reason, her mind flashed to the memory of Deeanna West’s grief-stricken mother. “There’s a lot of scary stuff out there for parents—gangs, drugs, sexual predators, teen suicides.” She shook her head, certain the last thing Ashley wanted was another lecture.

  “I’m not stupid,” Ashley said, crossing her legs beneath her. “I know the difference between acceptable risk and doing something dumb. I had it handled.”

 
Her belligerence fit her age. Eve could remember feeling the same emotions. She lowered her voice. “In all honesty, I thought your plan was pretty well thought out. But that doesn’t mean what you did was very nice. You upset your mother, which is probably not a good thing in her condition.”

  Ashley made a face. “Her condition sucks.”

  Eve looked over the girl’s shoulder. Would Matt prefer they didn’t get too chummy? No doubt, but Eve couldn’t resist offering a little counsel. “My brother, Tim, was seven when I…when our parents brought me home from the hospital. I grew up thinking he hated me—even though I adored him. Later I found out he was just disappointed because I was a girl, not a baby brother.”

  Ashley frowned. “Well, it’s not like your folks could help it.”

  Eve sighed. “Actually, they could have. I was adopted.”

  “For real?”

  Eve nodded. “Tim and I are pretty good friends now. But it was tough when I was too young to understand.” Eve felt a prickling sensation in her sinuses. “I guess what I’m saying is I understand how hard it will be for you to welcome a new sister or brother into the picture, but I hope you’ll try to remember it’s not his or her fault.”

  Ashley made a noncommittal grunt. She picked up a cloth-covered scrapbook that Eve had chucked to one side. It was so overstuffed that newspaper clippings, photos and odds and ends stuck out at all angles. “Is this your scrapbook?”

  Eve made a face. “Oh, no, not the dreaded paper trail! I thought I burned that.”

  Her jest brought a smile to Ashley’s lips. “Can I look at it?”

  Eve shrugged. She didn’t see how it could hurt. It wasn’t as if they were building a lasting bond or anything. “Sure. But be prepared for big buckers.”

  Ashley made a face. “What?”

  Eve winked. “You’ll see.”

  As Eve continued to sort through manila folders, some holding nothing more important than a monthly credit card statement showing that her business manager had paid it in full, she listened for Ashley’s response to the old clippings.

  “Ohmygosh,” the girl exclaimed a few minutes later. “Is this you?”