Josie stepped forward, desperation morphing into defiance. “You’re twisting my words. I just had the rug pulled out from under me, and I deserve a few minutes to feel sorry for myself.”
Eve turned away, not trusting herself to speak.
“We’re so sorry to inform you that your wife didn’t make it. She and the baby died en route to the hospital.”
“It wasn’t a mistake,” Josie repeated. “I’ll keep working because I promised my dad at his funeral that I wouldn’t let us lose this place. I’ll save this bar, even if it’s not what I want.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” Eve was hot and cold at the same time, lost between the past and the present.
“Family doesn’t always make sense,” Josie told her. “Sometimes you just have to do things because they’re the right thing to do. This building is my home, and someday I’ll be able to make it all work the way I want it to.”
They faced each other, tempers sparking, and Eve’s shoulders slumped as she realized with sudden, sinking clarity that the only person she was angry at was herself. She had an overwhelming, irrational urge to cry because she couldn’t believe she’d let this happen, that she’d let them get to the point where Josie introduced her as her girlfriend, where just the thought of something happening to her could send Eve into an emotional tailspin.
“I never took it lightly that it was difficult for you to be here,” Josie said quietly. “I still don’t.”
“I know.” Eve swallowed roughly. “I’m sorry.”
Adam walked in with a sleeve of cash, staring between them as he tried to read the tension in the room. Eve stayed out of the way as Josie stocked the cash register and Adam chopped lemons. By the time they were ready to open, it was past seven, and dusk had fallen across Manhattan.
“I should probably just go home,” Eve said, feeling suddenly exhausted. She’d briefly entertained the idea of hanging out here at Dragonfly and keeping Josie company during her shift, but the thought of sitting on one of those barstools for another nine hours was too much. Tears pressed behind her eyes, and that sick feeling in her stomach just wouldn’t go away.
Josie crooked a finger, indicating for Eve to follow her. She led the way into her office and closed the door, turning to face Eve. “Are we okay?”
Eve took a step back, feeling trapped in the confined space. “For tonight.”
“Tell me what that means,” Josie pressed.
Eve rubbed a hand over her brow. “It means, you’ve had a tough night, and we should regroup tomorrow.”
Josie nodded. “Okay.”
Eve blew out a slow breath. “Okay.”
Josie stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Eve. They held on to each other for a long minute, and then they were kissing, and every cell in Eve’s body was lit with the energy that seemed to charge them every time they touched. It was so intense that she felt herself splintering, because she knew this feeling. She’d felt it before, and she couldn’t let herself feel it again. Her heart couldn’t take it. She pulled back, breathing hard, tears stinging her eyes.
“Tomorrow,” she whispered, already dreading the horrible inevitability of what she was going to have to do. She walked out of Josie’s office without looking back.
27
Josie blinked over gritty eyes, tightening her grip on the bag of carry-out in her lap. As usual, it had been almost five by the time she made it upstairs last night—this morning—and then she hadn’t been able to fall asleep. She’d been too wired, a swirling mass of emotions all warring for dominance inside her.
She was furious with Lauren for screwing her over, hurt by the betrayal, discouraged by the setback to her business, and utterly confused by whatever had happened between her and Eve afterward. While she felt a little guilty for dumping her deepest, darkest fears on Eve like that, she also didn’t, because she’d had a profoundly shitty night, and she should have been able to vent about it for a few minutes before she moved on.
So now she was on the subway, holding a bag of Chinese food and hoping to set things right between them. She exited at Eve’s stop and climbed the steps to the street, headed toward her building. Josie gave her name to Eve’s doorman, who ushered her inside. She rode the elevator to the eighth floor and knocked on Eve’s door.
She opened it wearing jeans and a sleeveless blue top, her hair in a messy ponytail. How did she manage to look even more beautiful every time Josie saw her? Maybe that was part of Eve’s magic, this invisible force around her that drew Josie in deeper and deeper. At this point, there was no way back out, at least, not with her heart intact.
“Hi,” she said, giving Eve a gentle kiss before following her into the living room.
“Any new developments in the case?” Eve asked.
Josie shook her head. “Lauren is long gone. The police don’t seem super hopeful that they’ll be able to track her down.”
“People are profoundly shitty sometimes, aren’t they?” Eve said with a frown.
Josie laughed, sitting next to her on the couch as they began opening cartons of food. “Yeah, they are.” This felt right, like the balance between them had been restored. They’d both been upset yesterday, but now they’d had a chance to calm down and cool off.
Eve went into the kitchen, returning with plates and napkins, and they began to eat, not talking much. Eve looked as tired as Josie felt, and she figured she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t slept well last night. Once they’d finished their lunch and put the leftovers in the fridge, they went back into the living room.
