Read Online Everybody Loves Evie by Beth Ciotta - Free Book Online Page A

and tell her you had an affair with Gina?”
    â€œWhy bring up a dead issue?”
    â€œBecause if you’re looking to cool Evie’s jets, that would do it.” Someone pounded on the door. “Hold on.” Milo opened up expecting Woody with an armful of dry clothes. Instead Evie stood on the threshold, a dry towel wrapped around her upper body. Which would have been sexy had she taken off her clothes first.
    â€œHere’s the thing,” she said, “I can’t get naked in your apartment.”
    â€œBloody hell,” Arch said in Milo’s ear. “What the—”
    â€œI’ll call you back.” He disconnected, shoved the phone in his back pocket. “If you’re worried about someone walking in on you, lock the door.”
    â€œIt’s not that.”
    â€œThen what?”
    â€œI don’t know you well enough.”
    â€œYou didn’t know Arch at all and you used his shower. Hell, you slept in his suite.”
    â€œThat was different. I was working for him.”
    â€œYou’re working for me now.”
    â€œWe were posing as a married couple.” She sneezed into a wad of toilet paper and leaned into the doorjamb for support.
    â€œYou’ll be posing as a hospital patient if you don’t get into dry clothes.”
    Just then, Woody blew in, two hangers dangling from his fingertips. A nurse’s uniform and a nun’s habit.
    Milo’s ass vibrated. He ignored the incoming call, frowned at Woody. “You’re joking.”
    â€œAll of the women’s clothes are in Hot Legs’s size,” he said.
    â€œWho’s Hot Legs?” asked Evie.
    â€œGina,” Milo said. His primary female operator. Arch’s previous conquest. The woman who’d put Evie through the wringer on that cruise. Those two had clashed like a pit bull and a poodle. Hell would freeze over before Twinkie would wear anything worn by Gina “Hot Legs” Valente.
    â€œShe’s taller and thinner than you,” Woody said, “so I figured anything with pants was out. These are sort of shapeless, so—”
    â€œI’ll risk pneumonia,” Evie said with a tight smile. “Thanks all the same.”
    Woody looked clueless and Milo had to bite his tongue. No wonder your girlfriend left you. He may as well have called Evie short and dumpy. From her pinched expression, that’s exactly what she’d heard. Women had an uncanny way of twisting a man’s words when it came to their appearance. He’d learned long ago that when a lady friend asks, Does this make my ass look big? the safest answer is a simple no.
    â€œYou don’t look so good, ma’am,” Woody said, digging a deeper hole. But he was right. She was flushed, perspiring and shaky on her feet.
    â€œYeah, well, you don’t smell so good.”
    Woody, who’d been trying to win back his girlfriend by changing everything from his wardrobe to his brand of toothpaste, looked crushed. “You don’t like my cologne?”
    â€œHow to put this kindly?” she said with a notable slur. “No.”
    Milo studied her hard. “How many shots did Pops give you?”
    â€œOne,” she said, holding up two fingers.
    Woody whistled. “Oh, man. She’s—”
    Milo cut him off before he could say crocked. Knowing his caretaker/bartender he wouldn’t have knowingly poured more than this half-pint could handle. Obviously she had no tolerance. “Nix the clothes,” he said to Woody. “Tell Tabasco rehearsal’s canceled. Our star’s under the weather.”
    â€œDon’t tell him that!” she cried. “It makes me sound like a diva. As long as I have a voice, I can sing.”
    â€œBut you’re hoarse,” said Milo. And looped.
    â€œSo I’ll sound like Janis Joplin.”
    â€œDid Joplin sing jazz?” Woody asked.
    â€œNo, and neither do