Eversea A Love Story

door, happily clutching the autograph he’d promised not to show for at least three weeks.
    Jack watched me through hooded eyes as he ate the last few French fries on his plate. He hadn’t said anything yet about the fact I was a lousy secret keeper.
    I tried to put a positive spin on it. “Thank you for doing that for Hector. His granddaughter, Maria, is a fan of yours. But you can trust him.”
    “He had a good night, huh? A hefty tip and an autograph.” Jack’s tone was teasing. Thank God. “What about you?” His eyes searched mine.
    “What about me? Why didn’t I take the tip?”
    “No, not that. But why didn’t you?”
    “We both do the work around here.”
    Jack nodded, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the side of his plate. “So, do you need an autograph?”
    “No!” I blurted, my face flushing warm. “I mean, no, that’s okay. But thank you for asking.” I swallowed. Could I sound any more petulant?
    Jack laughed.
    It was a mesmerizing sound. Coupled with the way his gray green eyes twinkled when he did so, and the dimple in his left cheek ... it was no surprise half the world was in love with him. This was bad. I did not want to be a Jack Eversea groupie. But I was beginning to realize what charisma really meant. He certainly knew how to use it.
    “Why?” he asked.
    “ Why? I don’t know why! Maybe because you sound full of yourself for just asking.” I huffed at him. “God, I’m sorry, I act bitchy when I’m nervous.”
    He pursed his lips and nodded sagely. “I wouldn’t call it bitchy. God knows, I’d know the difference.” He thought for a moment. “Let’s call it ... well, bitchy works.”
    “Hey!” Great .
    “Yeah, bitchy ... and disapproving ... like unimpressed.”
    “I am unimpressed,” I snapped.
    “I can tell.”
    My face flamed again. “Sorry. I mean ... obviously, I’m impressed.”
    That sounded wrong. Groupie-ish, not bitchy. Oh man, which was better? “With your work, I mean.” I went on awkwardly, “You are very ... talented.”
    He rolled his eyes. “Stop. Stop. Kill me now.” He held his hand dramatically to his heart.
    I stared at him.
    “I’m teasing you, Keri Ann.”
    “Oh.” I took a deep breath.
    He looked at me, unblinking for a few moments.
    “What?”
    “What do you drive?”
    “A red truck, why?”
    “Figures.” He smirked, but didn’t elaborate. “And given your ... bitchiness, I’m obviously making you nervous, so it’s my fault I guess. I’m sorry.”
    Jack laughed again, a slow, easy sound that ran over my skin like too many soft caresses. It must be the humidity. That, or I had managed to avoid having an unrealistic crush on this heart-throb through all of his many movies designed to make girls swoon, including playing my favorite fictional hero, only to have him walk into my place of employment, in the flesh, and deploy the swoon-bomb that was rapidly detonating over all my good senses. Had I been singled out? Did the Devil look up and see one sensible girl left and decide on tactical warfare to bring me into line?
    Jack was asking me a question.
    “What? Sorry.”
    “I said, can I stay a bit longer? I’m still on California time, and well ... as you heard,” he winced, “I have a lot going on in my personal life right now, and I don’t want to think about it tonight.”
    No, no, no. This was a bad idea. I found myself shaking my head. I needed this bizarre incident to be over. On the other hand, I was developing a crush on someone I didn’t know, not really. All I needed was some more time in his self-absorbed sphere to come to my senses. If he really was self-absorbed. Maybe he was just used to getting his own way. Why was I making excuses for him? I mentally kicked myself.
    “I’ll just stay til you finish up and walk you to your truck or whatever. It’s late ... and dark.”
    He noticed my almost imperceptible negative head shake. “Please?”
    Damn. The same ‘please’ that had gotten to me earlier. The one asking for me to keep his secret.
    I sighed and nodded. “Okay.”
    He looked relieved. “Oh and also, may I have another drink?”
    “Bar’s closed,” I tried, predicting his cheeky smirk.
    “I know.”
    I rolled my eyes, and smiling, grabbed his glass to fill with ice. This was going to be the longest closedown ever.
     

 
    T H R E E
    “How old are you?” Jack was sweeping. Sweeping! Sometime during the last ten minutes of conversation while he asked me questions about Butler