It looked like plenty of take twos, and threes, and more to Eve. But everybody appeared to have a good time doing it—again and again.
The gag reel ended with the camera once again on Marlo, this time in the long black coat, weapon drawn, a breeze ruffling the short cap of hair. “I’m a cop,” she said, eyes fixed and fierce. And when she flipped back the coat to holster her weapon, she missed, with the stunner bouncing on the ground at her feet.
“Aw, fuck. Not again.”
Roundtree ordered the lights on and stood grinning and stroking his goatee as the applause rolled.
“It wasn’t an easy edit, with the amount of screwups I had to wade through.” He dropped down beside Eve, commanded her attention. “You have to have some fun with it.”
“I’d say you did.”
“I’ll add and edit more. This’ll go on the home disc extras. People love seeing actors screw up, blow lines, fall on their asses.”
“I have to admit, I did.”
“We’re going to have individua
l interviews with the main cast. I’m not going to push you—that’s Joel’s territory—but I want to add my bit here. It would enhance the home package considerably if you’d do an interview. Both of you, even better.
“I’m willing to stay in New York after we wrap if that’s what it takes, or to come back whenever you can work it in. Think about it. You lived this. I’m going to promise you we’re doing it justice, and I don’t break a promise. But you lived it. Everybody who sees this vid is going to want to hear what you have to say.”
“It’s closed for me.”
“No, it’s not.” He shook his head, and those bright blue eyes were razor-sharp. “I’ve got that much about you. The Icoves were the villains of the piece; the Avrils and the others the victims. And still, victim murdered villain, and you had to pursue that. The victims who survived are out there. There won’t be any more because of what you did, and that’s important. Immensely. But while you ended it, you couldn’t close it. So.” He gave her hand a rough pat. “Think about it.”
“He’s good,” Eve muttered when he pushed up and walked away to sit with Andi.
“And he’s right about it not being closed.”
“When I agreed to cooperate—to a degree—with Nadine on the book I knew it would widen that crack. Part of me wanted to seal it shut, but you can’t. The rest of me thinks it’s good that people know who the real victims were—are—in this. How do I talk about that? It’s not my job to decide guilt and innocence.”
“Not legally, no. But it’s your job to know. And you do.”
Eve huffed out a breath, turned her head to meet Roarke’s eyes. “You’re saying I should do it?”
“I’m saying if you decide to, and have control over what you say, how you say it, it may help you close that internal crack on this for you. It’s not just the publicity from the book that’s kept it in your mind, Eve. You think of it—of them. So do I.”
“Hell. I’ll think about it. Can we get out of here yet?”
“I’d say we could start easing that way.”
Easing was right. Saying good night meant more conversations. She watched, with envy, Mavis and Leonardo escape—the baby as the excuse—even as she and Roarke got snagged again.
Eve calculated another solid twenty minutes before they finally made it to the main floor where Julian sprawled on one of the sofas in the living area.
“I was afraid of that.” Connie sighed. “He was well on his way to a good drunk by the end of dinner.”
“He hit the wine pretty hard,” Eve confirmed.
“He was embarrassed by K.T. at dinner. Julian tends to drown embarrassment and upset. I’d apologize for her behavior again, but, well, she is what she is.”
“No problem,” Eve assured her.
“We can see that he gets home safely,” Roarke told her.
“Thanks.” Connie gave the sleeping Julian a look of motherly indulgence. “But I think we’ll just leave him there to sleep it off. No point dragging him out to his hotel. Just let me get your fabulous coat.”
“And the resemblance continues to diverge,” Eve said quietly. “You can hold your liquor better, and I’ve yet to see you curl up hugging a pillow like it’s a teddy bear.”