4

Eva strolled along Fifth Avenue during her lunch break, perusing the high-end fashion stores, hoping to spot something in their pricey windows that would be perfect for Rita’s birthday. Rita could be a real picky bitch when she wanted to, but Eva loved her to death anyway. It was always a challenge finding just the right gift for a woman who could spot an imitation a mile away.

She was fixing a big birthday dinner tonight and wanted every detail to be perfect, even if Jake’s brother Jinx would be in attendance. For reasons that escaped her, Rita and Jinx got on famously. Go figure. He’d tried to hit on her once right before she and Jake got married. She told him if he even dreamed about her, she’d turn him into a eunuch. He’d been a good boy ever since, but she still didn’t trust him. She’d never said a word to another soul—definitely not to Jake and not even to Rita.

They’d been to hell and back together, Eva mused as she stopped in front of Saks’s window. Coming up as young girls with no parental supervision left them to fend for themselves. Neither of them knew their respective fathers. But they looked so much alike, the rumor was that they weren’t cousins at all but half sisters, with both of their mamas having laid up with the same no-good man. Neither woman ever admitted as much, though. Rita’s mother died of a drug overdose when Rita was six. Eva’s mom went to the store one day and just never came back.

Their grandmother, Mary, grudgingly took them in and made it known that they were a burden and she was doing them a favor by putting a roof over their heads and food in their bellies. They did the best they could to stay out of sight and out of her way.

The fact that they’d made it this far was a testament to their resilience. They were survivors. When they turned fifteen, only two months apart, they made a pact that they’d never be poor, hungry, unloved, or caught dead in a bargain outfit again. And to this day, the pact was unbroken.

Eva smiled at her reflection in the Saks store window. She could give Tyra Banks a run for her money. Her shoulder-length hair was intentionally tousled to fall dramatically around her face and across her shoulders. The fitted black turtleneck and black pants gave her a look of sleek sophistication. Her accessories were silver: earrings, chain, wide belt, and matching cuff bracelet.

Hmmm, jewelry. You couldn’t go wrong with jewelry. Rita did love white gold. Eva’s cell phone chimed. She flipped it open. “Hey, baby.” She stepped away from the entrance and pressed a finger to her free ear.

“Just wanted to remind you pick up a bottle of wine on your way home.”

“Can’t you get it I’m going to have to race home as it is to get everything done.”

“We could have done this at a restaurant, babe. You’re making yourself crazy.”

“Rita is family, Jake. Didn’t I sit through Jinx’s arraignment even though I had a deadline at work”

“You had to bring that up.” He gave a good-natured chuckle.

Eva grinned. “I’ll pick up the wine if you get your handsome ass home early and put the chicken in the oven. It’s already seasoned.”

“I can think of much more enjoyable things to do if both of us get home early.”

Her nipples stood on end. “Jake…”

His voice lowered to that sexy timbre that made her crazy. “I was sitting here in my office, with my door closed and a picture of you on my desk, and as much as I tried to fight it, I got a hard-on that could cut glass.”

“Jake…”

“I’ll be home by four.… Dinner is at eight. Imagine what we can do in four hours.”

A slow smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“That’s as good as a promise. Love ya.”

She giggled. “Back at ya. And don’t forget to put the damned chicken in the oven.”

Fortunately she kept an extra pair of panties in her desk drawer, she thought, pushing through the glass doors of Saks. She’d definitely have to change out of the wet ones when she got back to the office.

*   *   *

Eva sniffed the air the instant she walked through the door of their home. She breathed a sigh of relief. The aroma of baking chicken seasoned to perfection filled the air.

“Babe! I’m home and I brought wine,” she called out.

Jake emerged from the kitchen wearing nothing but a very short apron.

Eva covered her mouth and giggled. “You look … ridiculous.”

Jake pressed his hands to his chest. “You wound me, woman. I thought this was kind of a modern-day Olympian look.” He glanced down at the apron. “Sorta like a loincloth.”

Eva shook her head and laughed some more. “Whatever you say, baby. You’ll always be a god in my book.”

Jake came up to her, took the package from her hand, and set it down on the coffee table. “Clock is ticking. If we hurry, we can actually take our time.” He kissed her behind her ear, caressed her waist.

Eva’s eyes drifted closed. “Ooooh, you know that’s my weak spot,” she whispered.

“Yeah, I know. And this is mine.” He took her hand and cupped it over his throbbing erection. “What are you going to do about it” He unfastened her silver belt.

It dropped to the floor in concert with the ringing phone.

“Damn,” he spat. “Probably Rita.” He pushed up Eva’s sweater.

The phone rang again.

“We better answer,” she said, gasping as Jake massaged her breasts, his thumbs running across her nipples. “She’ll … only keep … calling. Ooooh, Jake…”

“Let her.” He pushed Eva back against the wall, unzipped her pants, and pushed them down her legs. She kicked out of them.

The phone rang.

Eva untied the apron.

“It’ll go to voice mail any minute,” he said, air rushing out of his lungs.

Eva spread her legs.

Jake lifted her by her hips. Her legs draped around his back.

The phone rang.

He pushed up inside her, and they both cried out.

“You’re on fire,” he groaned.

“You’re so hard.…”

The answering machine kicked in. Jake pumped faster. Eva moaned.

“This is Lenora Ingram.” They froze. “Yes, Stan In-gram’s wife. If you bastards think you can blackmail me and my husband, you have another thing coming. How did I get your private home number I’m the FB-fucking-I, that’s how. And if you two sorry bastards don’t want to spend the rest of your thieving lives in the pit of some jail, you’ll start playing by my rules. Expect the next call from me. And don’t run. I can find you.”

Click.

Jake’s dick went completely limp and slipped out with a tiny pop.

*   *   *

A perfect dinner sat in the center of the long dining room table. The mouthwatering aromas floated gently around the room. The four diners sat in silence. Jinx twirled his fork. Rita stared at her French green beans. Jake shifted in his chair. Eva looked at Jake and rolled her eyes.

“I told you I had a bad feeling about this!” She threw her cloth napkin at him. It fell in his plate, right on top of his mashed potatoes and gravy.

He cut her a look from the corner of his eye.

“How do you know this isn’t some kinda joke” Jinx asked.

“Yeah, maybe it’s just some friend of his pulling your chain,” Rita added. She looked from one to the other.

“They have our private phone number, Rita.” Eva took a swallow of her wine.

“So what are we going to do” Jinx asked.

“We don’t know what they want,” Jake said.

“I know one thing: I’m not spending a minute behind bars,” Eva snapped. “Not even for you, Jake Kelly!” She searched for something else to throw at him, reached for her fork, and tossed it across the table.

“Throwing things at me isn’t helping, Eva!” He jumped up from the table and stomped off into the living room. Everyone else followed.

Rita sat down next to Eva and took her hand. “Don’t get yourself all twisted,” she said softly. “There’s nothing we can do until we hear their demands.”

“Exactly,” Jinx said.

Eva lowered her head. “I don’t want to even think about what they may want.” She looked at her husband.

Jake paced, getting that bad feeling that Eva had been talking about. “Neither do I.”

“The FB-fuckin’-I,” they all said in dejected unison.