Genuine Lies

of smoke as Julia offered a glass. Her laugh was quick and rich, as if at a private joke. “The longer I know you, the easier you are to read, Julia. Right now you’re struggling not to be judgmental, wondering how I justify an affair with a man young enough to be my son.”
    “It’s not my job to be judgmental.”
    “No, it’s not, and you’re bound and determined to do your job. Just for the record, I wouldn’t attempt to justify it, but merely to enjoy it. As it happens, I’m not having an affair with that fabulous slice of beefcake, because he’s quite obstinately gay.” She laughed and sipped again. “Now you’re shocked and telling yourself not to be.”
    Uncomfortable, Julia shifted and sipped her own drink.
    “The purpose of this is for me to explore your feelings, not for you to explore mine.”
    “It works both ways.” Eve slipped off the table to curl like a cat into a deeply cushioned rattan chair. Every movement was sinuously feminine, seductive. It occurred to Julia that young Betty Berenski had chosen her name well. She was all woman—as ageless and mysterious as the first. “Before this book is finished, you and I will know each other as well as two people are able to. More intimately than lovers, more completely than parent and child. As we come to trust each other, you’ll understand the purpose.”
    To put things back on the level she preferred, Julia took out her recorder and pad. “What reason would I have not to trust you?”
    Eve smiled through a veil of smoke. Secrets, ripe as plums for picking, glistened in her eyes. “What reason indeed? Go ahead, Julia, ask the questions that are buzzing around in that head of yours. I’m in the mood to answer them.”
    “Anthony Kincade. Why don’t you tell me how you came to marry him, and how his second wife went from making B movies to working as your housekeeper?”
    Rather than answering, Eve smoked and considered. “You’ve been questioning CeeCee.”
    There was a trace of annoyance in the statement, enough to give Julia a tug of satisfaction. Maybe they would reach a level of trust and intimacy, but it would be on equal terms. “Talking to her, certainly. If there was something you didn’t want her to tell me, you neglected to mention it to her.” When Eve remained silent, Julia tapped her pencil on her pad. “She commented this morning that she’d often spent time here as a child, visiting her Aunt Dottie. Naturally, it came out who Aunt Dottie was.”
    “And you took it from there.”
    “It’s my job to follow up information,” Julia said mildly, not only registering the growing irritation, but relishing it. Petty perhaps, she reflected, but satisfying to know that she’d finally chipped under that glossy guard.
    “You had only to ask me.”
    “That’s precisely what I’m doing now.” Julia tilted her head, and the angle was as much a challenge as a pair of raised fists. “If you wanted to keep secrets, Eve, you chose the wrong biographer. I don’t work with blinders on.”
    “It’s my story.” Eve’s eyes sliced like twin green scythes. Julia felt the keen edge and refused to dodge.
    “Yes, it is. And by your own choice, it’s mine too.” She had her teeth into it now, her jaws snapped tight, like a wolf’s over a fleshy bone. Her will rose up to tangle with Eve’s, muscles flexed. Nerves smoldered like bright embers in her stomach. “If you want someone who’ll bow when you pull the strings, we’ll stop this now. I’ll go back to Connecticut and we’ll let our lawyers hash it out.” She started to rise.
    “Sit down.” Eve’s voice quivered with temper. “Sit down, dammit. You made your point.”
    With an acknowledging nod, Julia settled again. Surreptitiously she slipped a hand into her pocket and thumbed free a Tums from its roll. “I’d prefer to make yours, but that won’t be possible if you block me whenever I touch on something that discomfits you.”
    Eve was silent a moment, silent while temper faded into grudging respect. “I’ve lived a long time,” she said at length. “I’m used to doing things my own way. We’ll see, Julia, we’ll see if we can find a way to merge your way with mine.”
    “Fair enough.” She slipped the tablet onto her tongue, hoping that it and the small victory would soothe her jittery stomach.
    Eve lifted the glass to her lips, sipped, and prepared to open a long-locked and rusted door. “Tell me what you know.”
    “It was simple enough