Some Like It Hotter

“Not expecting a package, either.”

“You— Yes, Frank....Who?...Oh, I see....Is she pretty?...Young?...Uh-huh....Oh, she does?...Okay, sure, send her up.”

“What was that?”

Jean ended the call triumphantly. “I got you a date.”

“You what?”

“You heard me.” Jean disappeared from sight into the living room.

“Who is it?” he called after her.

“Someone you know, don’t worry. She’s on her way up.” Jean reappeared wearing her coat and a Yankees ball cap. “Anything you want me to do before I leave you to your wild night?”

“Yes.” He stood behind his desk, hands on his hips, exasperated and a little curious. He couldn’t think of any female friend who’d drop by during business hours without calling first. They all knew better. “Intercept whoever it is and tell her sorry, I’m busy, and to call first next time.”

“Look at you all grumpy over a woman.” Jean scowled at him. “You’re a big boy, you tell her. I’m gone.”

Ames rolled his eyes, more amused than annoyed. The visitor could be his college friend Kathy, back from a European tour. He’d lost track of her return date. Still, it would be strange of her not to call first.

The apartment doorbell rang. Jean’s footsteps thudded over to get it.

“She’s here already. The girl moves fast. I like her already.” The front door opened. “Hello. I’m Jean Kajowski, Ames’s hot live-in girlfriend. Just kidding. I keep house for him a couple days a week, though he doesn’t like me calling it that. Don’t worry, I was just leaving.”

“Hi, Jean, nice to meet you.” The voice was musical, sweet and vaguely familiar. “I’m Eva Meyer.”

Ames sat back down abruptly. Eva was here? At his condo? How had she found his address?

“Hi, Eva. Oh, my God, your boots are adorable!” Jean was clearly smitten. “Come in, come in. He’s in the office, probably shy. But he’s not busy tonight, so don’t let him tell you that he is. I’m off—bye you two.”

Ames turned his eyes to the ceiling. Give him strength. “Bye, Jean, see you Thursday.”

“Only if I live that long.” The door closed behind her standard response.

Ames blinked at his office door. He could get up. But she’d stalked him here—she could come in on her own.

“Hi, Ames.” Eva appeared at his doorway, smiling pleasantly, as if there was nothing strange about barging into his home when she’d met him for all of five minutes the day before. She wore a violently pink skirt under a bright green shirt and crazy floral sweater. Her chunky boots laced up to midcalf and were shiny fluorescent-green. She had about five earrings in each ear and an armful of jangling colored bracelets.

His eyes hurt just looking at her.

He stood. Picked up a pen. Put it down. She made him very uneasy. Staring at him with those bright blue eyes. He felt...he felt...

He didn’t know what he felt. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought you might want to take me out tonight, since I’m new in the city.” She lifted her eyebrows as if she had every right to expect an enthusiastic response.

“You—” Ames could barely take that in. “What made you think that? Don’t you have to work?”

“My shift ended at two.” She seemed totally comfortable in herself, not broadcasting any sense that her behavior was at all unusual. “I already stayed late for a couple of hours, catching up on things and getting to know more staff. Then I’d had enough. You can only take in so much new information, you know? So I came here.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know anyone else, really.”

“Eva.” Something was painfully misfiring under that bizarre hairstyle—randomly hiked up all over her head with multicolored combs that looked as if they were taking bites out of her scalp. “You don’t know me, either.”

“What better way to get started?” She smiled, looking around his office. Her mouth was generous, like her sister’s, lips full, teeth slightly crooked. “Nice place. Totally fancy.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He should tell her to get lost now, before she got any more weird ideas.

“Here.” She laid a NYEspresso bag on the table. “I brought you a cookie and a bag of espresso beans.”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How do you know I have an espresso machine?”

“Well...” She tilted her head to one side. A tattoo he hadn’t noticed before rested at the base of her neck. She stood too far off for him to tell what it was. “Don’t you?”

Ames cleared his throat. He had a reputation among his friends for being able to read women and communicate with them exceptionally well, both as friends and lovers. But with this woman he felt like a junior-high dork. “Yes. I do.”

“Then you’ll enjoy it. Very fresh, delivered this morning. Chris’s special blend—Brazil with Ethiopia for some bite.” She hoisted her hot-pink bag farther onto her shoulder and went to examine the books in his bookcase. “So where should we go? Chris and I have done the big tourist things, Empire State, Statue of Liberty, Times Square, Rockefeller Center, etc., but I would love to get to know some neighborhoods. Any favorites?”

He was out of his element here. Somehow she’d maneuvered him into feeling he’d be rude to ask her to leave. Yet he had every right to.

“You know, Eva, tonight might not be the best—”

“Jean said you weren’t busy.” She turned around holding Jamie Goode’s The Science of Wine.

“Uh...”

“Oh, I see. You just don’t want to go.” She put the book back and approached his desk, mouth bunched slightly. “That’s fine. I just thought it would be fun for both of us. Especially if you don’t get out much.”

“What makes you think I don’t get out much?”

Again that head tilt. She was close enough now he could see the tattoo was a tiny hummingbird. “Did you go out last night?”

“Not last night, but—”

“Night before?”

“No, not then, but—”

“Night before that?” She was enjoying this—her face was solemn, but her eyes were sparkling with fun.

He put his fists on his hips and glared at her.

Eva burst into laughter and shielded her face with her hands. “No, no, not the death-ray eyes. I was teasing you. Listen, I get that you’re not interested. That’s fine.”

“Okay.” He felt profound relief. And also...not. He dealt with it by picking up his pen again.