Eve laughed. For some reason, Ashley’s reaction didn’t bother her—even though it pretty much paralleled Barry’s mortified, “My gawd you were a homely duck!”
“Look at those buck teeth,” Eve said, craning her neck for a glimpse of the skinny little kid with two new front teeth too big for her face. “My mom kept telling me I’d grow into them, but I didn’t believe her.”
“My fourth-grade picture was pretty horrible,” Ashley said kindly. “I wanted retakes, but Mom said we couldn’t afford them. I think she just didn’t want to be bothered.”
Eve didn’t try to minimize Ashley’s bitterness toward her mother. She didn’t know the whole story, but at the moment Ashley felt betrayed. Perhaps by both parents.
“Being a parent is a tough job, Ashley. You have to learn as you go and sometimes you make mistakes.” Eve shrugged. “It doesn’t mean your mom and dad don’t love you to pieces.”
Ashley flipped through a few more pages. “What’s it like to be famous?”
Eve swallowed. “There’s no simple answer, kiddo. For a long time, I thought fame was a goal unto itself. And when I believed that, every little news clip and sound bite was great—better than Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. But after a while it got old.” She snickered softly. “Or maybe I just grew up.”
She glanced at the page Ashley was studying. Eve’s crowning glory. Her first pageant win. The rush, the triumph and, later, the horror of facing her past. “Looking back, I have my share of regrets,” she said, sighing. “But I learned a lot, too. And eventually, I hope to put that knowledge to good use.”
“What do you mean?”
Eve twisted to one side and looked at the pretty young girl across from her. Ashley was part of her target audience, the age demographic Eve wanted to reach. Maybe she’d been given this test case to see if she was up to the challenge.
“For a long time now I’ve been thinking that society in general and the news media and advertising companies in particular are killing our kids. We’ve created the impossible dream and we sell it to every young person with a television, CD player, video game and computer.”
Ashley looked up.
Eve rose to her knees. “From day one, kids are fed the idea that perfection is not only attainable but desirable. If you look perfect, eat the perfect food, find the perfect job, connect with the perfect mate and raise perfect children, your life will be whole, happy, fulfilled…in short…”
“Perfect,” Ashley chimed in on cue.
Eve nodded with enthusiasm. “But the fatal flaw in that thinking is there’s no such thing as perfect. I’m living proof of that.”
Ashley frowned. “You’re pretty close to perfect.”
Eve sank back down. “You just see the outer me, Ashley. The me that bought into the perfection theory lock, stock and barrel. Heck, I didn’t go out on my first real date until I was seventeen because I spent every weekend on the road at beauty pageants or dance competitions. I had no close friends until college, and even then I was too busy with my career—my looks—to be interested in anyone who didn’t fit into my program.”
Ashley seemed a bit overwhelmed by Eve’s unburdening. She looked down at the bundle in her lap, picked up a loose sheet of paper and studied it a minute. “You were born in Texas?”
A horde of butterflies took flight in Eve’s stomach. She recognized the document immediately—a report from the private investigator she’d hired after moving to New York. She hadn’t realized she’d stuck it in there.
“Yes. We moved to California when I was two.” She put out her hand to reclaim the page.
“Have you ever met your birth mother?”
Eve attributed the blunt question to normal curiosity. Still, it generated painful memories. “Yes. When I was fifteen. And I’ve heard from her off and on since then.”
Ashley gave up the paper with just the slightest frown of inquisitiveness.
Eve put it on top of the pile she’d already sorted and pushed the entire stack to one side. Fatigue was setting in big time. “Ashley, I think I’ll have to mail you those photos. I’m feeling pretty pooped.”
The sympathy in the young girl’s eyes made Eve want to hug her, but she didn’t. They both stood up. Momentarily light-headed, Eve wobbled. Ashley touched her arm. “Are you okay?”
“I just stood up too fast. Your dad wouldn’t let me do anything much more strenuous than swing in a hammock the whole time we were in Mexico.”
Ashley gave her an odd look. Quietly, almost in a whisper, she said, “You love him, don’t you?”
Eve’s denial stuck in her throat. She swallowed twice before saying, “Yes, I do, but that doesn’t change anything. His life is in New York, with you. Mine’s here, with my work.”
Ashley frowned. “That sucks.”
Eve gave in to the urge and hugged her. “You are a wonderful person, Ashley. Truly beautiful.”
She shook her head so hard her ponytail batted Eve’s nose. “I’m not beautiful. My teeth are messed up and my butt…”
Eve put a hand to the young girl’s cheek. “That’s what I want people to know. There are more kinds of beauty than you can imagine. Kindness is beautiful. Happiness, goodness, imagination, inspiration—all of these are overlooked because we’re so darned focused on appearance.” Eve sighed. “You are beautiful, Ashley. Don’t ever, ever doubt that.”
Ashley’s smile started out tremulous then grew. She gave Eve a quick, spontaneous hug that brought tears to her eyes.
She turned away quickly, almost bumping into Matt. Eve had no idea how long he’d been standing there, but she couldn’t handle any more emotional scenes. Chin down, she slipped past him. “G’night,” she called, then dashed toward her room.
A good night’s sleep and a good cry awaited—she’d earned both.
ASHLEY’S HEART sped up uncertainly as she waited for her father to say something. She’d made such a mess of things. Her mom was in bed with cramps. Ashley knew she’d absolutely die if her mother lost the baby. That was never Ashley’s intention. Never. And now she’d created problems for her dad and Eve—even if neither of them would admit it.
She braced for another scolding, but all Matt said was, “You’d better get to bed, hon. We have to get up early.”
Impetuously, Ashley decided to ask her father the same question she’d asked Eve. “Do you love Eve, Dad?”
His shoulders tightened as if someone had hit him from behind. Ashley had never seen him look quite so sad and tired—even after he and Ashley’s mother split up. Ashley had her answer.
With a long sigh, Matt walked to the far side of the room and pulled out the upholstered desk chair. Its little rollers wobbled against the carpet’s nap and he gave it a vicious shake.
“Forget I said anything, Dad. You’re tired. We can—”
He interrupted. “No. We’ll do it now.” He sat down, settled his elbows on the armrests of the chair and leaned forward. “I understand why you ran away. You’ve worried about your mother and Alan moving to California. You’re not happy about the new baby. Maybe you think your feelings in all this might get overlooked, but that isn’t going to happen. Ever.”
Ashley started to speak but closed her mouth when he shot her a dark look. “None of that excuses what you did, and you know what your punishment is once we get back to New York. What worries me most is how we can get through to you that no matter where you live or how many kids your mom has, we both love you, and that will never change.”
Ashley blinked back her tears. “I want to stay with you, Daddy. In New York.”
“All of that will get discussed when we get home. You, me, your mom, Alan, Grandma and Grandpa. We’re a family, Ashley, and we’re all in this together. Alone, we’re vulnerable. Together, we’re strong.”
“How can we be together if I live on the other side of the country? Tell them not to move, Dad. Make Alan stay in New York.” She knew she was asking the impossible but a part of her wanted to believe he was superhuman.
He shook his head. “I don’t like this situation any better than you do, honey, but it happens when people divorce.”
“Then why didn’t you stay married? It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
He leaned back. “Ashley, do you remember last summer when one of Aunt Deb’s kids got sick? It was one of the twins, right?”
Ashley nodded. “Kevin.”
He went on, “Grandma told me a doctor ordered a prescription to help him breathe. Good medicine. Then a different doctor ordered something else for his stomachache. Also good medicine. But the two don’t work well together. If Grandma hadn’t caught it, Kevin might have had a really bad reaction. Maybe even died. Remember?”
Ashley nodded.
“Your mother and I are like that. Alone we’re fine, but put us together and we’re dangerous.”
“Then why’d you get married in the first place?”
His lips moved in a half smile. “Danger is exciting when you’re young and in love. Even the fighting was…stimulating. But it just wasn’t what either one of us wanted for you.” His look was serious, uncompromising. “Your mother and I both love you more than life. We want what’s best for you. She and Alan have a chance to do something good here—for themselves and you.”
Tears sprang into her eyes. “I don’t want to live in California, Dad. I saw a girl in a bikini on Christmas Day.”
“Face it, Ashley, there’s a lot more to the world than New York.”
“Does that mean you might not stay there, either? Would you move here to be with Eve?”
He glanced up. “I can’t tell you what might happen, honey, because I don’t know.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Do you love her?”
He slowly stood up. Ashley could tell his bad knee was bothering him because he leaned over and rubbed it. She couldn’t see his face when he answered her question, but she heard something different in his voice. “I can’t tell you that, either.”
Ashley didn’t push it. In a way, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
MATT AWOKE in increments. First, his nostrils. Coffee. Then his ears. Eve’s off-key hum. The familiar sound made him smile…until he opened his eyes and realized where he was. Damn.
Atlanta, not Mexico. And he was on her couch, not stretched out in a big bed with a warm tropical breeze making the curtains dance.
He was tempted to pull the comforter over his head and go back to sleep. At least in his dreams he could be with Eve. Hold her. Kiss her. Make love with her.
His body responded to the subliminal suggestions and he abruptly flung off the quilt and sat up. In the kitchen, Eve let out a small peep.
A moment later there was a soft scuffling sound of moccasins on tile then he heard, “Good morning. Did I wake you?”
Matt shook his head and rubbed his shoulder. He hadn’t slept well. Between worrying about Ashley and trying to make sense of his feelings for Eve, he was a mess.
“Coffee’s ready. Let me bring you a cup.”
Matt tried to stop her—he wasn’t sure he could keep his hands off her if she got too close—but she spun away. He heard a cupboard door open, then another. He’d unpacked several boxes while she was in the hospital, but Eve obviously didn’t know where things were. “Ah-ha,” he heard her say.
A minute later, she returned with a mug in each hand. She set his on the coffee table then adroitly melted to the floor across from him. The coffee table seemed a safe distance, but it still took every ounce of self-control Matt possessed not to reach out and draw her to him.
“Thanks,” he said, picking up the mug.
“No problem.”
“What time is it?”Where’s my watch? I meant to set the alarm.
“Six. You said your flight was early.”
Matt hadn’t actually made reservations. He’d been too drained last night. He was tempted to rent a car and drive. The time together would be good for him and his daughter.
He took a sip of hot, bitter coffee—just the way he liked it. He and Sonya had engaged in what Matt jokingly called the “coffee wars.” Eat-paint-off-a-car versus sissy-mocha-stuff. Finally, their kitchen had sported two pots brewing in respective corners.
“I suppose I should wake up Ashley…”
Eve gave him a look he remembered from seeing her deal with politicians on television. It was a look that said, “The bull stops here.”
“What?” he asked.
“Matt, is it possible that the reason you won’t consider letting anything develop between us is that you’re afraid?”
Matt inhaled so sharply hot coffee scalded the roof of his mouth. “Afraid of what?”
She shrugged. “Besides the things you’ve already mentioned—opposing lifestyles, money, careers—I think maybe you’re afraid of screwing up Ashley—although, personally, I think that’s a long shot. Despite that little stunt she pulled, she’s the most grounded twelve-year-old I’ve ever met.”
Matt ignored the small tickle of pride her words gave him, but Eve went on before he could respond. “Maybe it comes down to business. If we wanted to be together, one of us would have to move. You wouldn’t want to disappoint Bo, and I know you’re close to your parents, so it wouldn’t be easy to leave your home.”
Matt sighed. “All of that is true, but it’s not—”
“Maybe you’re afraid of becoming ‘Mr. Eve Masterson,”’ she interrupted. “I wouldn’t blame you, you know. I don’t know if I could give up my sense of identity for you, either. I just think we should be honest about why we’re not even trying to work this out.”
Her questions drove to the heart of what he’d wanted to avoid thinking about. Why am I turning my back on something that feels so good?
He ran a hand through his hair and rolled his shoulders. “I don’t fit into your life, Eve. Remember when Liz Taylor married that guy she met at the dry-out clinic…Larry something. The big star and the average Joe. Definitely not a match made in heaven. Even though they claimed to love each other, everyone knew it wouldn’t work.”
“I’m a nobody compared to Liz Taylor,” Eve protested.
“Not compared to me.”
Her eyes seemed black, intense yet inscrutable. For some reason, he had a feeling this was one of those pivotal moments that he’d one day look back on with either profound relief or complete regret.
Eve put down her mug and scooted around the table on her knees. She put her hand on his bare knee—he’d slept in boxers and a T-shirt. “Matt, I know my life bothers you. I have a recognizable face and people consider me a celebrity. The media is interested in me. But that’s what I do—not who I am. It’s taken me a long time to learn the difference. In fact, it took this near-death experience to drive home the point.”
Matt covered her hand with his. The sensation of her touch connected at every level. With his left hand he cupped her jaw. “I know that. And I love who you are, but I don’t have enough faith in love to think it can magically make things work between us.”
She sat back, her face stricken with sadness, but there was hope, too. And Matt knew he wasn’t doing her any favor if he let her think there was any chance they might work things out.
“Besides that, Eve, I’m a dad. And at the moment, my daughter comes first in my life. Her life is messed up enough without me adding to it. The last thing she needs is to be exposed to all the trappings of your lifestyle—the glitz, the glamour, the paparazzi, calls from your stalker…”
She jumped to her feet and turned away. She paced to the fireplace. Her back to him, she said, “There is no stalker, Matt. The voice on the answering machine is my birth mother. She had throat cancer a few years back and she has an artificial voice box.”
“Your birth mother? Why didn’t you say so?”
Eve slowly turned. Twins trails of tears glistened on her cheeks. “I never wanted anyone to know about her. She doesn’t fit my image,” she said with a rueful snort. “Which is totally ironic when you stop and think about it. Here I am,
Eve Masterson, beauty queen, celebrity, but if the truth were known, I’m really the bastard child of a woman who tried to sell me. Twice.”
Matt rose and started toward her, but Eve glided out of reach. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Maybe on second thought you were right not to get involved with me. I have too much baggage. It could go either way today. And if I have to start over, I’ll need to channel all my energy into my career.”
With her chin high and the grace of a dancer, she walked to the hallway. She paused and looked back one last time. “Give Ashley a big hug for me. She’s a terrific kid. Tell her I’m going to dedicate my first show to her…if I ever get the chance.” With a tremulous smile that didn’t make it to her eyes, she hesitated a heartbeat, then disappeared down the hallway.
“I STILL SAY you should put me on an airplane then go back to be with Eve. She needs you, Daddy,” Ashley said for what had to be the tenth time.
“You sound like a broken record. Will you give me a break?” Matt snapped when she opened her mouth again. “I’m doing the right thing for all of us. The responsible thing.”
She made a dry sound of disgust. “That’s what adults always say, but tell me what’s so responsible about abandoning Eve when she needs you? Love sucks, you know that?”
He started to scold her use of language but sighed instead. This wasn’t the impression he wanted his daughter to have of relationships. Matt loved being in love. He’d been crazy happy when he and Sonya were first married, and totally delirious over the birth of their daughter. In all honesty, he felt more alive at this moment than he had in months because of the way he felt for Eve.
“You are so not right, Dad,” Ashley said, only this time her tone was more sad than argumentative.
Matt glanced at his watch. Their flight would begin boarding in fifteen minutes. By his estimate, Eve would be walking into the Communitex boardroom about now. His stomach made an unhappy sound when a spurt of acid hit the French toast he’d shared with Ashley at the airport restaurant.
“You know I’m right, Dad. Love beats paper, stone and scissors.”
Something About Eve Page 20