“It’s what Dallas does for the dress. I hope you like it.”
“It’s terrific. Thanks for the pockets.”
He smiled at her, kissed her cheek. “I thought you’d like having them. Let me get you all a drink.”
“I’ll help you with that,” Roarke said, and after another Peabody elbow poke, McNab went with them.
“Hey, there’s Trina. Be right back,” Peabody said. “I need to ask her a hair question.”
“You sicced Trina on me, didn’t you?”
Mavis rounded midnight blue eyes in innocence. “Don’t you have to read me my rights before you question me?”
“Another smartass. Speaking of reading you your rights, we go back.”
“Yeah, to when you first arrested me on the grift. Now look at me. I’m a married woman and a mommy, and I’ve got a career. I didn’t have to steal any of it. Life’s twisty keen.”
“At least. I’ve been friends with you longer than I’ve been friends with anyone.”
“Double back at you.”
“So, we’re tight, and we know each other about as well as people ever do. You could say we love each other, in a nonlesbian lifestyle way.”
“We might’ve done the les, if we’d gone a really long time without men. If we, like, washed up on a deserted island for months, or—”
“Yeah, yeah, you’d be the first I’d jump,” Eve said and made Mavis snicker. “But what I’m wondering is, what would it take, what would I have to do to make you want to kill me. Literally kill, not think ‘I could kill Dallas for that.’”
“Oh, easy. If you did the steamy pretzel with my honey bear, I’d stick the first sharp implement I could find in your heart, and in his balls. I’d probably be sorry after, but too late.”
“That’s it? Sex with Leonardo is the only reason you’d want me dead? Think about it,” Eve insisted. “What if I stole from you, or insulted you, made fun of you on a regular basis.”
“Okay.” Mavis tipped her head side-to-side in thinking mode. “If you stole from me you’d need whatever you took really bad. If you insulted me you’d piss me off and I’d insult you back. If you made fun of me you’d hurt my feelings and I’d tell you to knock it off.”
“So the only reason you’d stick a knife in me—”
“Or a really sharp nail file. Maybe a kebab skewer. That would be, like, inventive. See, you were doing the steamy with my cuddle-up in the kitchen, so I just grabbed what was there. Murder by kebab skewer, and I’d get off on the temporary whacked.”
Fixing rage on her face, Mavis demonstrated by pumping a fist toward Eve’s heart.
“It’s a good one. Anyway, the only reason you’d plunge that kebab skewer in me is the blind passion of the moment?”
“Yeah, so remember that if you ever get ideas about my baby doll, ’cause I’d kebab your ass.”
“So warned.”
Mavis grinned her sparkling grin. “Speaking of babies. You’ve got to see this mini vid of Bellamia.” Mavis opened a tiny bag the same pink as her hair and the shape of a tulip.
Eve laid a hand on hers. “You wouldn’t do it even then. You might want to, even think it, and you’d hate me, but you wouldn’t kill me.”
“I’d really want to, but no. But you’d never go after my man because you’d never hurt me that way, ever, much less cheat on Roarke. Real friends, real lovers don’t do that shit to each other. Not the reals.”
“Exactly. You’re exactly right. Okay. Let’s see the vid.”
17
Eve didn’t know if Bella was the baby girl of all baby girls as she didn’t have much experience with babies of either variety. But the kid was ridiculously pretty, especially if you overlooked the drool.
Still, she was happy to be spared watching Bella clap her hands, blow kisses, and babble a second time as the men came back with drinks. She cornered McNab while Roarke was treated to Bella’s goos and giggles and baby-spit kisses.