“No, he was,” Josie said. “He was totally supportive.”
Eve’s eyebrows lifted. “Then I don’t understand the problem.”
“His parents—my grandparents—opened Swanson’s forty years ago. This is their legacy. Swanson’s is named after them, Eve. To change that, and to make it a gay bar? It just…it feels like you’re undoing everything they worked so hard for.”
“To be frank, you need to make drastic changes if you want to stay in business,” Eve said, tone edged in steel.
Josie looked down at her desk, eyes blurring. “I guess I just wanted you to give me a pretty makeover and some business tips, and everything would go back to normal.”
“That wouldn’t be enough,” Eve said softly. “You’re captaining a sinking ship here, and you know it as well as I do.”
Josie squeezed her eyes shut, tears rolling over her cheeks. “You made me cry, just like you do on every episode, but the cameras aren’t even here to film it.”
“A fact my producer will be most upset about.”
“And you?” She opened her eyes, meeting Eve’s gaze.
She stared back, unflinching as ever. “I told you I never intend to make anyone cry.”
“Can I ask you to give me time to think it over?”
Eve’s jaw clenched. “We’re on an extremely tight schedule to fit you into season two. I can’t postpone renovations, which will begin on Monday, but I could reschedule our interview to take place that morning and give you the weekend to make your decision.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “Thank you.”
Eve turned, opening the door briskly. “I’ll see you on Monday, then.”
10
Eve needed a drink. Or, more likely, she needed anythingbuta drink, because the last thing she wanted to think about as she walked into her apartment that night was Josie. Or Swanson’s. Or bars. Or anything to do with any of it.
She’d pissed off her entire team by rescheduling Josie’s interview. If this segment fell through, she could kiss season three goodbye. And she’d worked hard for this, dammit. She lovedDo Over, and she was good at her job. It kept her busy, fulfilled the restlessness inside her, and allowed her to afford this apartment.
The day she moved in, she felt like she’d made it. She’d arrived. Now, sometimes, especially on nights like these, it felt empty. Maybe that was the problem. She was craving human companionship tonight, the touch of another person. Usually, she preferred to be alone at the end of the day, but she had needs just like any other woman.
Unfortunately, her needs would have to wait, because there was a box of hungry kittens waiting for her. Heaving a sigh, she went into her bedroom to change, because wiping kitten butts in white pants seemed like a recipe for disaster. She resisted the urge to go straight for her pajamas, though, because she wasn’t entirely sure she was in for the night. That empty, restless feeling lurking inside her would keep her up all night if she didn’t attempt to tame it. Maybe dinner alone at one of her favorite restaurants would do the trick. She put on a pair of jeans and headed for the kitchen.
She mixed formula and sat on the couch, lifting the gray-and-white kitten into her lap. “Hamilton,” she murmured as she positioned him for his bottle. She would never admit it to Josie, but it was nice to have names for them. Even she had grown weary of calling them by the color of their fur. And she liked their theater-inspired names.
Hamilton stared up at her through baby-blue eyes after he’d finished his bottle. His gray-striped head reminded her of the silly wigs men had worn back in his namesake’s day, and it made her smile. She took care of his bathroom needs and then rubbed him for a minute, enjoying the feel of his soft fur beneath her fingers. She held him up in front of her face. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but you’re pretty cute.”
He meowed loudly, wriggling in her hands, so she put him back in the box. Hamilton crawled awkwardly across the blanket toward the stuffed animal that served as their substitute mother. Josie was right, they were going to need a bigger box soon. What would Eve do with them then? She couldn’t keep a fucking playpen in her office.
She reached for the next kitten, Pippin, since he happened to be awake. She fed and cleaned him and then did the same for Phantom. Blanche, as usual, was last, snoozing away as Eve cared for her brothers.
“Time to wake up,” Eve said as she reached for the white kitten. Blanche’s meow was shrill as Eve lifted her, paws flailing. She settled the kitten in her lap and offered her the bottle. Blanche was still the smallest, but she was holding her own these days, guzzling hungrily from the bottle, paws kneading Eve’s fingers as she drank.
She didn’t look so fragile anymore, blinking up at Eve after she’d finished her meal. Now that her ears had lifted and her eyes opened, she looked much more like a tiny cat than the scrawny furball Eve had pulled out of a trash can nine days ago.
“Hi, Blanche,” she said, giving her belly a rub as the kitten rolled across Eve’s knees. As Blanche crawled over her legs, Eve leaned against the couch, surprised to realize she felt calmer now. Maybe it was good that the kittens kept her so busy. Or, at the very least, it wasn’t all bad.
Still, she was hungry, and her options here at home were slim. She could run out and get something to eat and be back home before they needed their next feeding. They could go three hours without her now, thank God. Decision made, she placed Blanche in the box with her brothers.
Standing, Eve grabbed her purse and headed for the door. How was Josie feeling about things tonight? Had she decided to give Eve’s ideas a chance? She had an uncomfortable feeling that, left to her own devices, Josie would talk herself out of it. She would convince herself to take the easy way out and just give the bar a makeover without fully embracing the vision Eve had created for her.
Surely, that was the reason Eve found herself boarding the F train toward Brooklyn. Maybe now that Josie had had a chance to calm down, she’d listen to reason, because Eve truly did have her best interests at heart.
Thirty minutes later, she pulled open the bar’s front door and stepped inside. The noise hit her first, raucous voices that set her nerves on edge. Swanson’s was busier than she remembered it being last Friday night, probably because of the buzz around the filming of the show. She’d seen it happen before.
