Beth Ciotta

Evie Ever After


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squeezed my hairy thigh. “Let’s get through the gig for Jayne, yeah?”

      “Then you’ll tell me?”

      “Aye.”

      “Okay.” I forced a smile and lassoed my imagination. One problem at a time.

      By the time Arch rounded the car and opened the door I had the head on, tickets and rose in paw—full gorilla regalia. Just like that I was on. Suddenly, it was just like any one of the hundreds of goofy gigs I’d done in the past. I was even on home turf. A casino I knew inside and out. All I had to do was stroll in and act as if I belonged. It helped that I was incognito. No one, not even the man I’d been married to for fifteen years, was going to recognize me in this monkey suit.

      I gave Arch a cocky salute and waltzed toward the doors, enjoying the chuckles I heard as a doorman ushered me inside. I liked making people laugh. Bringing joy had always been a thrill and the top perk of being an entertainer.

      I crossed the main concourse and headed for a bank of elevators, waving to customers as I passed by. Good thing I knew where I was going. My vision was compromised. The ape eyes were a creation of fabric and grill work. I could see, but not clearly, and only the things directly in front of me. Luckily, it didn’t smell too bad in here. In fact, it smelled as if it had just been sprayed with some sort of cleaner. Pine scent. Not a personal favorite, but anything was better than stinky sweat.

      I bolstered my nerve as I neared the gourmet Italian restaurant. It’s not like I loved Michael anymore, but I had to admit, it was going to be rough seeing him with Sasha for the first time as man and wife. And worse, seeing her pregnant. Sadly, he hadn’t been interested in having children with me. So, yeah, I was a little bitter about the kid thing. But they lived in this town and I lived in this town so it’s not as if I could avoid them forever. In a weird way, getting my first look at them without them seeing me was a bonus. I could scowl or cry or roll my eyes and all they’d see is the stony pug-faced expression of a stuffed gorilla.

      The hostess didn’t stop me so obviously she was in on the joke. I saw Michael and Sasha right off—the handsome, sharp-suited agent and the much-too-young for him lingerie model. They were seated directly in front of me, at a table with an ocean view. Only they weren’t alone. I recognized the casino’s entertainment coordinator and the VP of marketing. Two of the execs who’d been present during my disastrous audition.

      Pile it on, cosmos.

      I wasn’t anxious or intimidated. I was hopped up on indignation. I was going to be the best damned singing gorilla they’d ever seen. Put that in your banana and smoke it!

      I marched up to the table and launched into song. The lyrics of the first verse actually matched my mind-set a few bitter months back. I sang them with a Southern accent and a gritty quality so Michael wouldn’t recognize my voice. Although I suppose it was muffled anyway. I sang with gusto, gyrated my hips, and wiggled my big monkey butt. By the time I made it to the chorus, the surrounding customers were clapping in time.

      “Born in the U.S. APE. I was born in the U.S. APE…”

      After a double chorus, I ended with a bow and extended the long-stemmed rose and concert tickets to Michael. He looked half bewildered, half amused. Then he focused on those front row and center tickets and broke out in a face-splitting smile. The comments from the surrounding tables blurred into white noise. I only had eyes and ears for Michael and his new wife, whose belly was concealed by the table. I watched them kiss and hug, listened to their sappy endearments of love…and survived.

      I felt nothing aside from the rush of a job well done. The surrounding patrons were still applauding and the fact that the casino execs looked impressed was a bonus. Ah, the sweet smell of rubbing their noses in my multi-talents—talents they’d rejected based on my age. Yes! I pumped my ape fist in the air and performed a victory dance before spinning off and making a hasty exit.

      Only as I neared the elevator did I realize my mistake. That victory dance was my signature happy dance, one that used to amuse Michael before he grew bored with me.

      Crap!

      Was he looking my way when I did it? Or gazing moony-eyed at Sasha?

      Sweat trickled down my face as I pressed the down button. Come on. Come on. The door opened but it was packed and no one got off. The laughing occupants waved and shouted corny monkey comments as the doors shut. I punched the button again, peeked around the corner and saw Michael coming.

      Oh, damn. Oh…bloody hell.

      I zipped around the other way, slip-sliding down the marble hall in my fuzzy feet. King Kong fleeing the slot-machine jungle. I heard my name, a shushed, muffled “Evie” as I stepped onto the escalator. It was one of those really tall ones and I almost lost my balance. My heart leapt to my throat as I grabbed the railing and someone grabbed me.

      “Fuck’s sake, Sunshine. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

      “Arch?”

      “Dinnae turn around. Just hold on and…try to look inconspicuous.”

      I laughed.

      “You were fucking brilliant by the way.”

      “You saw my performance?”

      “From a distance.”

      “Michael didn’t see you, did he?”

      “No.”

      “Is he following us now?”

      “No.”

      “Why did you follow me?”

      “Backup.”

      Oh. “That was sweet.”

      “Standard procedure for team members, yeah?”

      “Uh-huh.” Wearing a big smile that he couldn’t see, I bastardized a movie quote in a singsongy voice. “You were worried. Because you love me. You want to smooch me. You want to hug me.”

      “Sandra Bullock. Miss Congeniality. Sort of.”

      I craned my head around, but I still couldn’t see him because of the ape’s limited vision. “You’re amazing.”

      “You’re a pain in the arse.”

      “But an adorable pain.”

      “Aye,” he said with a smile in his voice. “There is that.”

      “Oh!” I cried, experiencing a bout of déjà vu. “Let me know when we near the bottom. I don’t want my fur to get eaten in the teeth of the last step. Once I was working with a group of Hollywood characters and the hem of Jean Harlow’s gown got eaten and seized up the gears. She had to be cut out of the dress and—”

      Suddenly I was whisked up and into Arch’s arms. “Problem solved,” he said as he carried me across the concourse and out the front door.

      I giggled. “You probably look pretty silly right now.”

      “Not as silly as you, lass.”

      “True.”

      Ten seconds later I was seated in his car and yanking off that suffocating head. I swiped my arm across my drenched forehead. “I did it, Arch. I saw them together and I didn’t feel anything. What a huge flipping relief!”

      “Good to know.”

      Something in his tone. Something…fragile. I hadn’t thought about it from his point of view. Had he worried I still harbored affection for my ex? Wow. More proof of the bad boy’s vulnerability.

      “You look flushed,” he said as he pulled onto Pacific Avenue. “Are you okay?”

      “Sure,” I said, my mind zinging with a hundred thoughts. All of them having to do with Arch and the future. “Just hot. And itchy. I can’t wait to get out of this suit. Speaking of…You’re going the wrong way. Fannie’s Flowers is south.”

      “The