The Surprise of Her Life

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” Pulling into a parking spot in front of the first building, he gave her a wary look. “Are you okay?”

No, she wasn’t okay. He was freaking her out. “This is a joke, right?”

Derek pointed to the corner apartment of the building directly in front of them. “‘E.T. go home,’” he recited, using a forlorn voice.

No. “You’re serious? You live there—since—?”

“Since I arrived in Colorado. It’ll be a year in March.” He pointed to the black SUV parked in the spot next to him. “That’s mine. Why?”

Her heart sinking, Eve reached over to shut off the ignition and pulled out her keys. She used them to point to the building diagonally across from his, specifically the bottom corner apartment. “That’s me,” she said.

Derek glanced from her to the point of her direction and back again. Then his chest started to shake on a soft laugh. “Well. Hello, neighbor … again.”

Derek meant to bring a little levity into the moment, considering that this was playing out to be a classic case of fate having the last laugh. But one look at Eve Easton’s adorable, but horrified face, and his smile waned. Damn, but the cutie was hard on his ego. The situation wasn’t as awful as all that … was it?

“Okay,” he began slowly, “you don’t think this is even the slightest bit amusing?”

“More like a bad dream.”

“Thanks a lot.”

Eve had the grace to wince. “Excuse me. I didn’t mean—”

“That you were appalled at the idea of living next door to me? And here I thought that lovely little interlude we shared in the sunroom would be—”

“This would be a good time to start forgetting that.”

“Why on earth would I want to? Tonight was the best time I’ve had since moving here. Come to think of it, it’s the best New Year’s Eve I’ve had in … long enough,” he said, realizing he was already giving away too much. She’d already managed to deflate him; there was no point in proving that not only did his love life suck, his determination to make high marks with his superiors had turned him into a workaholic. “The point is I’d hoped we’d gotten past that your-ex-dumped-you-for-my-ex hurdle.”

“I did, too … back when I assured myself that it wasn’t as if I would be seeing you every day.”

“I don’t remember the word blunt being used in reference to you.”

“I’m not being insensitive, I’m being real-time honest. Jeez, I wish I had that wine right now.”

Chuckling, Derek replied, “Evie, come on, the way we’re going I’d better wish you a happy Valentine’s, Halloween and Christmas, because it’ll be next New Year’s before we’re apt to run into each other again!”

She moaned with dismay. “Don’t call me that.”

“What? Evie?” Now he was at a loss for words. He’d meant it as an endearment. For this bizarrely intriguing conversation they were having, Eve seemed too formal, and Evie spoke to his wish that they could still be back in that sunroom with her gently murmuring lyrics that he found himself yearning in that moment to be true.

“It’s what my family calls me, especially when they’re about to patronize me for something I did or advice I wouldn’t take. Another gift that comes with being the youngest. Remember I mentioned my older brother is Nicholas? No one has called him Nick in years. He’s a cardiac surgeon. My older sister Sela is a corporate attorney. Her look will give you a freezer burn if you call her anything else.”

“I’m not patronizing you, and I understand now how pulling in here the way I did must have panicked you, but—” he gestured to their respective residences “—this is what it is.”

She shook her head as if still fighting reality with herself. After a few more seconds, though, she said, “You’re taking it awfully well.”

“Maybe because I’m honestly glad to see you again.” Leaning over a few inches he said, “This is where you could say something like, ‘You know what, Derek? I’m happy to have had a chance to see you again, too.’”

With a sheepish smile, she said, “Consider it said.”

Continuing to gauge the proximity of their buildings, Derek added, “It is odd that we haven’t crossed paths sooner.”

“The truth is that I rarely see anyone in this place except for service people and the groundskeepers. So many of the residents are professionals who tend to head to their workplaces from five-thirty to seven-thirty every morning. Rae and I usually don’t get into our office until nine because we’re often on the job later into the evening.”

“That would explain it,” Derek said, having come to the same conclusion himself. “I’m usually heading in by seven. Although that doesn’t explain weekends. What do you do on weekends, play Sleeping Beauty?” That would account for her whipped-cream complexion. His fingers itched to touch her again—in places that would probably leave her with a permanent blush.

“Hardly. That’s when I am likely to be gone before daylight, possibly not to return until dark again. We have a number of clients who, out of necessity, schedule their events for the weekend.”

“Makes sense.”

Derek hoped she would continue, to share what some of those events were like. Despite her reserve, tonight felt a little too close to kismet or destiny to see it end yet. Instead, she opened her door.

As she exited the SUV, he did, too, hurrying to help her, which proved a necessary thing when he saw that she had more ice and snow on her side than he’d previously realized—another indication that the woman had gotten to him in more ways than one. He literally lifted her by her waist as though she were a doll and placed her safety on the clear and dry walkway. “Sorry for not seeing that.”

“It’s okay,” she said a little breathless. “Derek … I hope you know that I do wish you only happiness?”

She was truly adorable with her big blue eyes refreshingly absent of guile and her mermaid-sleek body half hidden from him by a jacket, whose color perfectly matched her lip gloss. Those lips stirred hunger anew in him. Derek suspected that she didn’t have a clue as to how delectable she was because Wes the Weasel had taken her for granted, if not outright neglected her. The betrayal and divorce were the final blows to her crippled self-esteem. He hoped one day Eve would heal enough to believe that she was a delight and would be very easy to fall in love with.

“I wish you the same,” he replied with quiet earnestness. They began walking up the sidewalk that bisected their front lawns. “If things were different …”

He waited to see if she would take the bait. Women were supposed to be the curious sex and ask, “What if they were?” But she didn’t. She was proving to be an anomaly in more ways than one.

“If things were different,” he said again, determined that she hear this anyway. “I would ask you out sometime.”

At the crossroads to their respective buildings, she stopped. “That’s one of the nicest bad ideas anyone has said to me,” she said.

Unsure whether to laugh or curse, Derek had to ask the obvious. “Bad idea why?”

“Because there’s baggage, and then there’s our kind.”

“‘Our kind?’”

“Joint baggage.”

She made it sound ominous, like a five-year tax audit, or worse. “We aren’t the ones who did anything wrong.”

“Which is why if we do run into each other now and then, we can say, ‘Hello.’”

“I should hope so.” Taken aback, Derek couldn’t decide what was more astonishing, that she wanted to pretend that the too-brief, but wholly romantic interlude they’d shared earlier was easier for her to brush aside than it was for him, or that he was somehow tainted by Sam’s behavior? Hindsight being the ugly pill that it was had made him accept that Samantha had always shown the impulses of an alley cat. He supposed it was a combination of his patience and voluntary myopia that had allowed the marriage to last as long as it did. No doubt Eve had engaged in her own survival tactics, but she couldn’t still be in love with Wes—or was she so angry she was going to judge all men by her two-timing ex’s character flaws?

With a sigh, Derek gestured toward her apartment. “I’ll wait for you to get inside.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he held up his hand. “Humor me. Accept that I’m old school and want to see a lady safe and secure for the evening.”

“Okay. Thanks. Sorry.” She flapped her arms hopelessly. “I’m just no good at this.”

“No, you’re not.”

But he said it with a smile, and she laughed softly, and finally continued her way to her place.

In truth, she was a pain in places he didn’t want to think about. He ached to follow her to her door and kiss away what was left of her lipstick. Some competitive or hungry something compelled him to talk her into agreeing to see him tomorrow or the next day for coffee, lunch, or whatever. If she looked over her shoulder, he would do it.

She didn’t look back again until she had her door unlocked. Then she waved and locked up, leaving him to grimly stride to his own apartment. After bolting up behind himself, he stood in the nearly dark, too impersonal living room and felt fatigue descend upon him.

“Note to self,” he muttered, pulling at his tie. “Let it go … or move.”

“This is the winner of the Best Use of Spices float,” the female commentator for the Rose Bowl Parade said on the television.

“And I’m going nuts pretending this is what I want to be doing.”

Eve put the last of her meager Christmas ornaments into their box before reaching for the remote and turning off the TV. It was a shame considering that she’d enjoyed this ritual for years, but she just couldn’t get into watching today. What’s more, she’d already transcribed important dates onto her new calendar—birthdays, anniversaries 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 left of my counterfeiting operation,” she countered, pretending pride in her crime. “What I couldn’t sell online. Don’t bother looking for prints. I wiped everything clean before I bagged it.”

“Damn. There goes my hopes for making an arrest and getting to frisk you.”

“But we’ll always have last night.” As soon as the words were out, Eve regretted them. She hadn’t meant to send him the wrong signal, he just made it too tempting to play along. “Nice jacket,” she added quickly. “It looks vintage.”

He inclined his head in thanks. “It is. My father had his grandfather’s bomber jacket and I always admired it. Sadly, it didn’t hold up well. I found this one on craigs-list and couldn’t resist.”

“You had flyers in your family?”

“Navy, yes.”

“Do you fly?”

“No, the bug bypassed me. I try to keep both feet on the ground—or in the water if the opportunity comes up.” His expression turned quizzical. “I thought you’d be long gone back up the mountain to resume help with the cleanup?”

Eve shook her head. She wasn’t about to make herself available to Rae for another interrogation, no matter how conscientious she was to help out. “But you’re obviously off to somewhere. Don’t let me keep you.”

“Poker with some cronies,” he said, with a shrug. “I’ve reached my saturation point for reading reports and catching up on paperwork.”

Eve felt a wave of nostalgia and envy. “That’s what my family will do after dinner. Well, cards and dominoes. My grandparents insisted that even we kids learn. It guaranteed that they’d never run short of players.”

“I’ll bet you’re pretty good—except at the poker face.”

Wrinkling her nose, she admitted, “You’ll be astonished to learn that you’re not the first person to have said that.”

“I’d invite you to come along, but it’s stag. I wouldn’t subject your tender ears to that.”

“I’m sure I’m no match to you high rollers anyway.” She took a step to signal her retreat, only to remember something. “D.A. Maines—is he okay? His house?”

“Fine. Perfect. The neighbor’s place has damage, but it’s limited to two rooms.” Derek’s gaze grew concerned. “Are you catching a cold? Your voice sounds different and your nose is getting pinker by the second.”

She should never have mentioned her family; the tears she’d been fighting after calling home were threatening again. “Probably allergies from the dust while taking down Christmas stuff. But just in case, I better keep my distance and not contaminate you.” She took another backward step. “Good luck.”

“Take care of you.”

Eve waved her appreciation for his concern and cut a brisk about-face to increase her pace back to her apartment. Her mood sank with each step as she processed what he’d told her.

He had friends, a life, things to do. How silly and egotistical to hide indoors believing he’d been lying in wait for her!

Note to self—he’s out of your league! Get back to doing what you came up here to do.

Chapter Three

“Eve! Will you come in here please?”

Rae had only been in the office a few minutes before that sharp command came. It sent the other five people in the outer room trying to hide behind their laptops. Sitting at a desk that faced the others in their lobby office, Eve gave up on the call she’d been repeatedly attempting without success since arriving two hours ago. A consistent busy signal at a florist the day after New Year’s was an attention-getter. It should be their quiet time, so either someone big had died, or there had been a number of passings over the holiday.

“On my way,” she called back. Wryly noting the other ladies’ reactions, she grabbed her notebook and daily planner, and hurried into Rae’s resplendent copper-and-leopard-skin-wallpapered office and closed the door behind her. “The troops want to know if you need sweetener in your coffee?”

“I’m not being witchy, I’m legitimately upset. Where are the brochures for the historical building fundraiser that were promised first thing this morning? I was going to take some to the luncheon—a good idea, n’est-ce pas? And who decided mud brown napkins were a good color for a formal event?” She pushed the offending item across her desk with her pen as though afraid the color would come off and stain her designer winter-white suit.

Eve recognized the napkin and realized that was a possibility. “Oui, il est si,” she replied obediently, knowing Rae’s penchant for constant self-improvement. But she had the French, Is it not so? Yes, it is so down pat. What she wanted was for something to go smoothly this morning. They were starting January seriously behind. “Lisa expedited the brochures the minute she arrived. We know they’re on the freight carrier’s truck for delivery today. The time is anyone’s guess. I knew Honor had put a report on your desk, but I didn’t realize she’d put a napkin in there, too. I’m guessing that since The Garden Show does include dirt, she thought the City of Denver booth should use a color that was a thematic match. I’m sure when she found that big box of them in the storage room, she also thought she was doing you a huge favor and saving the firm money.” The city planned on serving herbal tea to visitors at the February show, as they handed out maps of the city’s parks.

“I should have known this was Honor’s doing.” Dropping her pen on her desk, Rae rested her head in her hand and used the opportunity to peek under her fingers at their newest employee sitting closest to the entryway. “The poor dear. She makes a fine receptionist, but there’s no future for her on our front line.”

While Eve ultimately agreed, she couldn’t blame the middle-aged widow entirely for what had happened. “We really should have eaten the loss and tossed the napkins the first time we realized the color bled the moment the napkin gets wet. It’s not like we were going to risk using them for another client’s event.”

Looking ready to justify her decision, Rae opened her mouth to respond, only to check herself. “Fudge,” she muttered instead. Dropping the napkin into her trash can under her desk, she said, “Have her call Carlos down in Maintenance to get him to take those things to the Dumpster. Then add white cocktail napkins to your list. You’re still handling the nonperishable shopping this afternoon for the Medical Center open house, aren’t you?”

That had been the plan when they last went over schedules before the holiday. “I have so many fires to put out, I can’t afford to lose the time here. If you don’t mind, I’ll do it on my way home this evening?”

“As busy a week as it’s going to be, I hate for you to have to do that, but thank you. What else is wrong?”

“I can’t get anyone to answer at Executive Floral Services. Did some big deal in Denver die that I don’t know about?” she asked her boss. She’d accused Rae of sleeping with a radio scanner beside the bed, since she was always on top of the news in town.

“No, but there was some cable cut at a construction site by the airport. That could have something to do with the problem.” Rae browsed through the other paperwork and mail that was covering her desk. “Why don’t you detour that way on your lunch hour?”