"Who?" Eva feigned ignorance, but it was such a poor performance.
Brian just chuckled, shaking his head. "Curious sequence of events," he mused aloud. "I come back to our seat. You're gone. Hm. I look around—poof! Mr. Gorgeous also gone. Minutes later, he exits the hallway buttoning up his jacket with the expression of a man who just broke a sweat... and then, right after, you follow. Hair tousled. Lip gloss gone. Face flushed. You just had a restroom fuck, didn't you?"
Eva nearly choked on the second sip of champagne. "Oh my God. You have no filter. We are in public, for God's sake."
Brian leaned back. "You didn't say no, though."
Eva huffed, adjusting her dress. "I didn't say yes either."
"You didn't have to. Honey, the walk of shame is practically a fashion statement on you right now."
"Do you want to get kicked under this table?" she threatened.
"You were totally fucked…again." Brian laughed in a sing-song voice, dragging out the syllables
"I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm like a bitch in heat around him. I can't say no."
She looked genuinely distressed, covering her face with both hands as the champagne buzz fizzled into reality. "I mean, I barely know him. I don't do this. This isn't who I am."
Brian, still grinning, leaned back. "Who would say no to Alexander Baldwin? Man's hot! Rich, mysterious, and clearly very… thorough."
Eva peeked out from between her fingers. "Brian…"
"What? I'm just stating facts. You walked back here looking like someone who just got spiritually realigned. Your aura changed, babe."
Eva grew quiet then. The teasing bounced off her, but didn't stick this time. Her mind shifted to something Alex had said. Something that had been simmering in the back of her brain ever since—the comment about Brian being gay.
Brian had been her rock. Her emergency contact. Her best friend. The one who picked her up when the world spat on her, wiped her tears, and made her laugh through heartbreak. If he was gay—why hadn't he told her? Why would he keep something that significant from her? And why had it stung, just a little?
Before she could overthink further, she felt a cool draft between her legs. Right. No panties.
"Brian," she said suddenly, urgent. "I have to go. I am not wearing any underwear and I am sure if you shine a light on the back of my dress, you'll find a wet patch."
Brian's mouth dropped open before he let out a full-bodied laugh. He clapped once. "Oh-ho-ho, girl! Okay. Let's get your slutty ass home before the UV lights start snitching."
"Brian!" Eva cried, swatting his arm with a laugh she didn't expect to come so easily. It felt good. Cathartic.
He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. I'll behave."
But the glint in his eyes said otherwise.
"Until we get to the car," he added, winking.
Eva groaned. Her body still tingled from what happened in the bathroom. Her heart still fluttered from seeing Alex again. And her mind still spun with questions she wasn't ready to answer. But for now, she had Brian.
On their way out of the underground level of the hotel, Eva was practically dragging Brian by the wrist when yet another of his colleagues called out to him.
"Briiiian! Darling, I haven't seen you since that disastrous table read!"
Brian gave Eva a look that said I swear I'll be fast, but she already knew what was coming. She waved him off with a small smile. "Go. It's fine. I'll wait by the entrance."
As he got sucked into a vortex of showbiz gossip and half-finished promises, Eva made her way through the hallway and climbed the narrow steps up to the hotel's side entrance.
And then it happened.
Flash.
Flash.
FLASH.
Screams. Shouts.
"Miss Eva Winslow, are you back in New York permanently?"
"Did you come to this party looking for a girlfriend?"
"We hear your ex-husband married your best friend—any comment on that?"
"Are you ready to accept who you are?"
The words hit her like stones. And the flashes burned her eyes. It was a wall of press, feral and hungry, cameras and microphones shoved in her face.
Eva raised a hand against the onslaught, her other arm clutched her bag like a shield. She tried to speak but the chaos swallowed her voice. She stumbled back a step, nearly twisting her ankle in the process.
"Back off!" she shouted, but it came out weaker than she intended. It was a plea, not a command.
The crowd pressed in closer, emboldened by her visible panic. Someone stepped on the hem of her dress, another shoved a mic into her chest. Eva tried to escape through the growing wall of bodies, but the harder she pushed, the more they shoved her back.
The flashes were relentless. Her head spun. She wasn't ready for this.
Tires screeched loudly against pavement, loud enough to silence even the most determined paparazzo. The roar of an engine echoed through as a black Mercedes came barreling toward the scene.
Reporters screamed and scattered, jumping out of the way while cussing out the driver with a choir of creative profanities.
"Jesus! This isn't Fast & Furious!"
"Get that maniac off the road!"
The car came to a sharp stop, barely missing the toe of a particularly aggressive cameraman.
The passenger door flew open, and Alex stepped out.
In all his unruly-haired, dangerously-calm, rich-boy arrogance.
"Get in the car!" he shouted, eyes locking on hers.
Eva didn't hesitate. Not even for a second. Because suddenly, the cameras weren't the scariest thing in the parking lot.
She ducked into the car as Alex slammed the door shut behind her.
"Drive! Now!" Alex barked at the driver.
The tires screeched again, a harsh protest against the concrete as the car tore out of the parking lot. Flashes from the paparazzi cameras burst behind them. Within seconds, the chaos faded into the distance, swallowed by the silence that now fell inside the car.