and appointments—and removed the lights in the window and around her front door. The wreath was neatly tucked in a large trash bag in the coat closet, and the tree was about to go back into its box and join it. She was completely caught up, yet the microwave clock in the kitchen read only 10:57 a.m.
All that remained now was to call her family. But she suddenly dreaded it, despite missing them terribly. How was she going to explain last night without mentioning Derek? They’d known about the party, so there was no avoiding the subject. In fact, they’d be expecting a full recap—mostly in the hopes of discerning that she’d met someone “worthy of her” to quote her father. As good as her parents were at reading her moods and state of mind, her siblings were better than card sharks at reading her. That vetoed any idea about using her computer’s Skype application.
With the last items in the closet, she reached for her BlackBerry and scrolled down the contact list keying the number for her parents. Maybe she’d bought herself some time and would only get their answering machine. This was close to the time that they’d be heading to the retirement community where her father and maternal grandfather were likely to squeeze in a round of golf while her mother and the rest of her grandparents discussed who had been wearing the least last night on the evening TV specials. Then they would all head back to the house to wait for the arrival of her siblings, nieces and nephews.
“Eve! Happy New Year, dearest! How was your night?”
Just dive in, Eve thought. “Fine, Mom. Ho-ho to you and Dad. Everything okay down there?”
“Lovely. It’s sixty-two degrees, sparkling sunshine and we’re about to head out the door.”
“Okay, I won’t keep you. Give the Grands my love.”
“We can talk a minute. But you should call back in the afternoon and visit with everyone else. Your brother and sister say that you’ve been avoiding them.”
“They have busier schedules than I do. It’s hard to synchronize a good time to call.”
“That’s true enough, but they are worried about you, as are the rest of us. Now how was the party? Did you meet anyone interesting?”
“Tons of people,” Eve assured her. “The D.A., our congressman, the lady who hosts our local morning talk show up here …”
“Any noteworthy bachelors?”
“A sheik-in-training—some big oil guy’s nephew. But he came with a Playboy bunny,” she drawled, “and my humble little B-cup chest can’t compete with that.”
“I’m going to assume you’re teasing me the way you always do to stop me from prying.” Her mother paused to talk to someone in the background. “Your father sends his love and wants to know when you’re coming down for a visit. We discussed your situation over Christmas dinner, and your sister and brother want you to reconsider letting them arrange for some introductions.”
Eve could just imagine. She’d deferred the subject last time by simply telling them she wasn’t ready. The second time she pointed out that she would need a Bachelors and Masters to understand half of what their coworkers and friends were talking about. “I’m not exactly where I can talk, Mom. We’ll see, okay?”
“Oh, I didn’t realize you were still working. Of course, dear. But what will you do after you’ve finished up there? Are you getting together with friends? I so hope you’re not spending the rest of the day sitting in that tiny, dark apartment by yourself.”
Eve cringed as she glanced around her spick and span, almost empty and dark apartment. “Who, me? No way. There’s a skiing party at one of the lodges. I’ll grab a hot toddy and strike a sexy pose at the fireplace, until the risk takers get frostbite and rejoin me.”
“That sounds more like it. Do watch that no one slips something into your drink. I saw on the news last week—”
“Here’s my boss, Mom. Gotta go. Love you.”
As soon as she disconnected, Eve grimaced for having deceived her mother, but she simply didn’t want to worry her family. What was the point of putting hundreds of miles between herself and them if she wasn’t going to finally be independent and be responsible for her own decisions and actions?
She put down the phone and went to peer through the mini blinds. As usual, she saw no one out there, and Derek’s black SUV was still parked in the lot, but his mini blinds were shut tight. Lucky him if he was still asleep, she thought with envy. Lucky him if he had any sleep.
“And you actually thought you might be preoccupying his mind the way he is yours,” she muttered to herself in disgust.
The quiet surroundings did give her the perfect opportunity to get her trash to the Dumpster. She quickly slipped her parka over her oversize, black, V-necked sweater and jeans, grabbed her stuffed trash bag and made her way to the far corner of the property. Although the parking lot was two-thirds full, she didn’t see anyone or hear anything, except for the minimal traffic on the two streets that bordered their complex. With the sun shining at full force, the snow sparkled and stung her eyes, making her wish she’d thought to don sunglasses before venturing outside.
After flinging her offering up into the steel bin, she began to retrace her steps. Then she heard a sound that had her glancing up from her diligent navigation of slush piles and puddles. Derek was emerging from his apartment and locking his door.
“Really?” she asked, with a look toward the heavens.
There was no doubt that he would spot her—unless she ducked behind one of the bigger SUVs or pickup trucks. She was feeling very much the coward this morning, but she wasn’t that far gone. Besides, with her luck, someone in another apartment was likely to emerge and ask her what she thought she was doing?
Hoping that Derek was preoccupied and wouldn’t look her way, she pulled her hood over her head, tucked her hands into her pockets and kept her head down, once again focusing on where she stepped. She was halfway home when she came to the conclusion that he wouldn’t remember her jacket from last night. Men didn’t pay attention to women’s clothing, unless it was skin tight or fastened by string.
“Good morning!”
What part of FBI agent don’t you get, Easton? He’s not Wes who, if he wasn’t wearing his contacts, could pass you in your own house and not see you.
Eve stopped and pushed back her hood to find that he’d circled the side way and was almost upon her. He’d remembered his sunglasses and they gave him an air of mystery.
“Hi,” Derek said, coming to a halt not two feet away. He slid his glasses up onto his head.
“Hey.” She immediately cleared her throat because she sounded like she’d been sucking helium out of a balloon.
“Getting rid of some evidence I should know about?”
He posed the question with mock sternness, but as he nodded toward the Dumpster, she saw the smile in his eyes, even though he was squinting. He was dressed in jeans, a russet suede shirt and a black leather bomber jacket that made him every bit as appealing as he’d been in his business suit last night. Despite having wanted to avoid further contact with him, Eve couldn’t deny that he triggered inner turmoil within her, and she was glad that he was in a playful mood.
“What’s
