mouth.
“Rio?” he asks.
“No. Just Florianópolis during the last days of Carnival.”
“You’re kidding,” he says, sitting up straighter. “I was in Florianópolis on the last day of Carnival. I flew from Rio to see a friend who lives right by the beach in Praia Mole.”
“Wow. I rented a townhouse on Praia Mole, right at the bottom of the hill by this surfer shack with an amazing—”
“Food buffet? With the smoothies?”
“Yes. I had a smoothie every morning,” I say in amazement.
“I hate to think I saw you there, or on the beach, and didn’t know who you were,” says Evan.
For a brief moment, I’m lost in his eyes. To think I could have run into him across the world. I try to envision what he might have looked like at the surf shack—suntanned, hair mussed from the wind and sand, board shorts hanging from his hips…
Evan’s phone vibrates my way, and I spot a J pop up on the text before he scoops it up. Must be Jared, I think, until I see him frown. He texts something and puts the phone down, allowing me a glimpse of an image of black blonde-streaked hair and pink lips. I blink as a memory pushes into my head. Excusing myself, I go to the ladies’ room.
Flying into a stall, I pull my phone from my bag and bring up the picture of Josie and her secret lover. The faceless man is wearing a black shirt, sleeves rolled. I zoom in on what I thought was shadow on the inside of his lifted arm. The letters O-T-H-E-R are fuzzy but visible.
Holy… Fucking… Shit!
Chapter Eight
My mind is racing when I come out of the stall. Evan and Josie! I briskly wash my hands and ponder my wide-eyed reflection. This guy is a piece of work. First the Latin girl, now Josie Pink? How dare he flirt with me! I’m disappointed that he’s turned out to be such a player, but I shouldn’t be so blinded by that smile. He’s a handsome and successful guy. I bet that club is like his personal harem.
Well, he’s trying to play the wrong girl.
Randy picks up on the first ring when I call. “Yes, ma’am? Did you see my hot pics?”
“Did you see that I already posted them? No, because you probably just woke up.”
“I did. I’m on my way to brunch and then heading back to LA.”
“Can you stay? I need you to do some research on Josie Pink and Evan Cain. I think they know each other…intimately.”
“Are we digging for dirt?” he asks on a hushed breath.
“The dirtiest.”
“Oooh, child, you’ve come to the right place. Okay, I’m on it.”
“Call me when you have something good,” I say and toss my phone in my bag.
Evan watches my every movement as I walk back, throw my bag on the seat, and drop into the booth with an aggressive slide. His quizzical expression is priceless. “Are you okay?”
“I’m great. It’s my turn for questions.”
He leans in, his gaze caressing my face. “Fire away.”
“How long have you and Josie Pink been sleeping together behind Big Skinny’s back?”
With a hard expression, Evan sits up straight and pushes away from the table. All semblance of playful Evan is now gone.
“So you snapped a picture of Josie and me together, and you think you have the whole story figured out?”
I blanch. Apparently I wasn’t as stealthy as I thought.
He continues, his expression dark. “First it was Jared and Josie, right? Now it’s me and Josie. What are you after?”
“What am I after? What are you after? You don’t need to be talking about my killer lips if you and Ms. Pink are an item.” A lightbulb goes off in my brain. “You brought me here to find out what I know, didn’t you?”
“I never pegged you for one of those bloodsucking gossipmongers.”
“Gossip isn’t necessarily false. And you sure haven’t denied it.”
“Fine. I’m not sleeping with Josie. Neither is Jared.”
We stare hard at each other. There is something behind his eyes that tells me there is more to this story. Whatever news he’s been getting from her hasn’t been good, but
“Rio?” he asks.
“No. Just Florianópolis during the last days of Carnival.”
“You’re kidding,” he says, sitting up straighter. “I was in Florianópolis on the last day of Carnival. I flew from Rio to see a friend who lives right by the beach in Praia Mole.”
“Wow. I rented a townhouse on Praia Mole, right at the bottom of the hill by this surfer shack with an amazing—”
“Food buffet? With the smoothies?”
“Yes. I had a smoothie every morning,” I say in amazement.
“I hate to think I saw you there, or on the beach, and didn’t know who you were,” says Evan.
For a brief moment, I’m lost in his eyes. To think I could have run into him across the world. I try to envision what he might have looked like at the surf shack—suntanned, hair mussed from the wind and sand, board shorts hanging from his hips…
Evan’s phone vibrates my way, and I spot a J pop up on the text before he scoops it up. Must be Jared, I think, until I see him frown. He texts something and puts the phone down, allowing me a glimpse of an image of black blonde-streaked hair and pink lips. I blink as a memory pushes into my head. Excusing myself, I go to the ladies’ room.
Flying into a stall, I pull my phone from my bag and bring up the picture of Josie and her secret lover. The faceless man is wearing a black shirt, sleeves rolled. I zoom in on what I thought was shadow on the inside of his lifted arm. The letters O-T-H-E-R are fuzzy but visible.
Holy… Fucking… Shit!
Chapter Eight
My mind is racing when I come out of the stall. Evan and Josie! I briskly wash my hands and ponder my wide-eyed reflection. This guy is a piece of work. First the Latin girl, now Josie Pink? How dare he flirt with me! I’m disappointed that he’s turned out to be such a player, but I shouldn’t be so blinded by that smile. He’s a handsome and successful guy. I bet that club is like his personal harem.
Well, he’s trying to play the wrong girl.
Randy picks up on the first ring when I call. “Yes, ma’am? Did you see my hot pics?”
“Did you see that I already posted them? No, because you probably just woke up.”
“I did. I’m on my way to brunch and then heading back to LA.”
“Can you stay? I need you to do some research on Josie Pink and Evan Cain. I think they know each other…intimately.”
“Are we digging for dirt?” he asks on a hushed breath.
“The dirtiest.”
“Oooh, child, you’ve come to the right place. Okay, I’m on it.”
“Call me when you have something good,” I say and toss my phone in my bag.
Evan watches my every movement as I walk back, throw my bag on the seat, and drop into the booth with an aggressive slide. His quizzical expression is priceless. “Are you okay?”
“I’m great. It’s my turn for questions.”
He leans in, his gaze caressing my face. “Fire away.”
“How long have you and Josie Pink been sleeping together behind Big Skinny’s back?”
With a hard expression, Evan sits up straight and pushes away from the table. All semblance of playful Evan is now gone.
“So you snapped a picture of Josie and me together, and you think you have the whole story figured out?”
I blanch. Apparently I wasn’t as stealthy as I thought.
He continues, his expression dark. “First it was Jared and Josie, right? Now it’s me and Josie. What are you after?”
“What am I after? What are you after? You don’t need to be talking about my killer lips if you and Ms. Pink are an item.” A lightbulb goes off in my brain. “You brought me here to find out what I know, didn’t you?”
“I never pegged you for one of those bloodsucking gossipmongers.”
“Gossip isn’t necessarily false. And you sure haven’t denied it.”
“Fine. I’m not sleeping with Josie. Neither is Jared.”
We stare hard at each other. There is something behind his eyes that tells me there is more to this story. Whatever news he’s been getting from her hasn’t been good, but
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