Her hand moved from her chest to her mouth. She snorted and shook her head. “Only you, Roe … only you would give the owner of a bath and body shop a soap dish.” She tossed the dish over her shoulder, clearly not impressed with Walter Greenfield’s hand-carved creation, and then she grabbed my tie again and pulled me in for a long kiss. “Let’s go.” She nuzzled her nose against mine.
“Be right out. Let me grab my jacket.”
After slipping it on, I filled the cup by the bathroom sink with water.
“Forgot my lipstick—” Evelyn’s gaze locked onto the pill bottle in my hand as I swallowed the water and the pills.
I didn’t try to hide them because I knew she saw them. Hiding them would have felt like an admission of guilt. She reached over and plucked the bottle from my hand. I blew a breath out my nose, clenching my teeth.
“Ronin …” Her blue eyes met mine, a sea of disbelief. “What are you doing with these? You …” She shook her head. “You told me one week … just one week after I found the bottle in your pocket. You said you were tapering off. It’s been months. Months! Ronin … what are you doing? Th-these are addictive drugs. Are you—”
“Addicted?” I snatched the bottle from her hand and slipped it into the inside pocket of my suit jacket. “No. I’m not addicted.”
She mirrored my posture with a clenched jaw, eyes unblinking as she stared at me with an unrelenting anger. “Did someone else not die? Did you save another life? Bring back the dead?”
“No. But in case you hadn’t noticed, Lila is still in a cast.” I angled my body to slide past her to make my escape. “We need to go. We’re going to be late, birthday girl.”
“Lila’s leg doesn’t hurt.” Evelyn followed me out to the living room.
I held up her cream wool coat like a gentleman to help her put it on. She stood there with her arms crossed over her chest, no intention of sliding those arms into the coat.
I sighed, draping the coat over her shoulders. “Did I ever mention I went through a lot of schooling to become an EMT? I have to take additional training to keep up my license. I know a thing or two about pharmaceuticals. Now, please, baby … can we talk about this later if you feel the need for more talking? Your friends are waiting. We don’t want to be late.” I grabbed our overnight bag. Since we had Sue watching the kids all night, we were staying in Denver—at Porter Suites.
Champagne.
A huge room with a city view.
And my naked birthday girl.
The longer I stood there engaging in her stare off, the guiltier I looked. So I opened the door and waved my hand, shooing her out to the car. She narrowed her eyes but obliged. I hadn’t heard the end of that lecture, but I hoped it was dropped for the night.
As expected, she gave me the silent treatment on the way to the airport. We were greeted on the Porter jet with an open bar and privacy. Graham told me I should use that opportunity to join the Mile High Club if I hadn’t already.
I took Evelyn’s coat from her and handed it, along with mine, to the flight attendant.
“Anything else I can get you, sir?” he asked.
“We’re good. Thank you.”
“I’ll give you some privacy. Push this button here if you need anything.”
“Great. Thanks.” Even he knew I was supposed to be doing the Mile High Club activities on the way to Denver. As we took off, Evelyn gripped the arms of the seat, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes. Once we were in the air, I unfastened my seatbelt and reached forward for her foot, pulling it onto my lap, removing her shoe, and massaging her sexy foot, admiring her newly painted toenails.
She ignored me, tipping her chin to her chest, focusing on her phone.
After massaging both of her feet and getting the cold shoulder the whole time, I poured two glasses of champagne. “You look like you could use a drink.” I tried to hand her the champagne flute, but she ignored it.
“Dizziness, mental confusion, nausea, vomiting, apathy, and difficulty breathing …” She read from her phone screen. “Those are just a few short-term effects of mixing opioids with alcohol. Long-term effects include impaired vision, mood swings, liver disease, and increased risk of overdose and death.” Evelyn glanced up from her phone, pinning me with a hard look. “But surely you know this since you’ve had extensive medical training and know a thing or two about pharmaceuticals. Right?” She canted her head.
Leaning back in my seat, I set the two glasses of champagne aside and folded my hands in my lap. “Fine. I won’t drink. What will it take for you to let this go for one day?”