“Hello?” she muttered, trying to disguise her voice.
“Finally.” Bridget’s sigh sounded like a windstorm against the receiver. “I was worried you weren’t going to pick up at all. This you-not-having-your-phone thing is a huge pain in my ass.”
“It’s probably for the best. At least now the cops can’t use it to track me. Have you heard anything from them since yesterday?”
“Not a word, thank God. I guess this means I’m in the clear.”
“That’s great! Finally some good news.”
“Right?! See, I told you there’s no reason to worry about me.”
“I wouldn’t go that far, but—”
“Get off my ass!” Eva pulled the phone away from her ear as Bridget shouted and honked. “Sorry, I left work not too long ago, and this guy behind me has been, like, two feet away from my bumper ever since. Crazy bastard!” She cleared her throat before continuing. “What were you saying?”
“So I’m guessing you didn’t get fired for going into work late yesterday?”
“They wouldn’t dream of firing me. But can you believe I had to go in and open the store this morning? And when I say morning, I mean early morning. I had to be there before nine. My boss is totally punishing me for coming in late last night. Oh, speaking of late nights, how did yours go?”
“Fine. Alek’s gone. He went to Tartarus to see if his mothers will let me stay down there for a little bit.” She pinched the phone between her ear and shoulder while she dug through the pantry. “It feels so weird saying that.”
“But more importantly, did anything happen?”
She balanced a box of crackers, a can of spray cheese, and a jar of olives as she carefully made her way to the counter. “What do you mean?”
“Do you really need me to spell it out for you?” Bridget asked.
“No.” Eva turned on the sink and rinsed her hands. “Where are your knives?”
“Oh my God. You’re killing me,” Bridget whined.
Eva dried her hands off with a paper towel and rummaged around the silverware drawer.
“Stop fondling the cutlery and answer my question. Did you have sex with the man, Eva?”
“What? No, I didn’t even think about it. There’s way too much going on. Besides, it’s not like that between us.”
“Too much going on? We both know if you tell a guy to hurry it can be over in, like, two minutes. Sometimes, you don’t even have to say anything, and he’s finished before you realize what’s happened,” she snickered. “And you’re hot. So it doesn’t really matter whether or not you think there’s anything between you, because I’m sure he could make something pop up real quick.”
“Sometimes I wonder how we became friends.”
“If it wasn’t for my expertise, you’d still be a virgin. You totally need me. And I need you to tell me when I’m losing touch with reality.”
“Then I think you’ve lost it on this one,” Eva said.
“You don’t think he’s delicious? You weren’t just itching to tear off his shirt and slide your hand down those sweaty abs?”
“Why would he be sweaty?”
“I don’t know. Passion and stuff. You’re totally missing the point. The idea didn’t cross your mind one time?”
Eva sprayed a tube of cheese onto a Ritz.
“That’s what I thought,” Bridget sang.
“Fine. He’s gorgeous, super sweet, has an amazing body, and has that whole I-want-to-protect-you thing going on. I don’t know.” She sighed.
“If someone that sexy came up to me and said that their whole mission in life was to keep me safe, I’d lose my pants so fast. Guy or girl, doesn’t matter. I’m equal opportunity. So just think about it next time the two of you are alone. He’s too focused on protecting you to not develop some type of feelings,” Bridget said.
“It’s all business between us. I’m the oracle, he’s the warrior, and there’s some serious, possibly life-ending shit going on.”
“Okay. I see things just got real. Let me make a suggestion. You need to get out of the house.”
“You saw that breaking news story last night. I can’t go anywhere. Someone will recognize me, and I’ll end up spending the rest of my life in jail.”
“I also know that the news jumps to new stories every day, and you’re not a celebrity. No one in that bumpkin ass little town is going to recognize you.”
“Bridget, we’re technically still in Tulsa.”
“Yeah, but in the rednecky bumpkiny part. Who knows if they even watch the news?” Bridget said.
“I can’t. Alek told me to stay here until he got back. Plus, I’m eating,” she said, straining to open the jar of olives.
“Two things. First, since when do you let a man tell you what to do? And second, since when do you let a man tell you what to do?”
“I’m not letting him tell me what to do. It’s just because he wants to make sure I stay safe.”
“I’ll have you back before he even knows you were gone. I promise. It’ll be my treat. Pleeeeease?”