It's All About Eve

“I’m not sure we ever resolved the last question?”

Carter tilted his head at an angle. “You and I both know the answer.”

Eve hesitated.

“You’re not the kind of person who lies, Eve.”

She shook her head.

“So?” He leaned one forearm across the steering wheel and waited.

“What about the dog, Simone’s dog? And the pizza? And even more important, what about the camisole?”

“I’m sure the dog will like the pizza very much. I’m not so sure he has any opinion about the camisole.”

“But what about you?”

“You need my opinion on a camisole?” He looked puzzled, and then the light dawned. “I get it….” His voice trailed off and then he laughed. “Listen, I can assure you, Simone and I are just friends. Anything more would be seriously bad for my health, trust me. Okay?” He solemnly held up his left hand. “Scout’s honor.”

Eve coughed. “It’s the right hand.” She pointed to his raised salute.

He exchanged hands. “It’s the thought that counts.”

She looked out the side window. What was she getting herself into here? She looked back at him. A lock of hair had tumbled forward across his brow. The contours of his strong shoulders strained against the fragile seams of his shirt. She wet her lips. His seams weren’t the only fragile things in the truck cab. “No hands.”

He nodded slowly. “A deal’s a deal. If it makes you feel any better, there’s probably a set of handcuffs in the glove box that you could use.”