chapter ten
Mavis Freestone and her lover Leonardo cohabited in Eve’s old apartment.
What a difference a year made.
Eve had lived in the single-bedroom unit contentedly enough with a few basic pieces of furniture, no decor to speak of, and an AutoChef that was empty more often than stocked. She’d preferred to think of her lifestyle as simple rather than bland.
Then again, compared to Mavis, a surf on Saturn’s outer rings in a comet buster was bland.
The minute Mavis opened the door, Eve was struck with color. Blasts of it. Every hue and tone on the palette was turned up to scream level, in patterns and textures that boggled the eye.
And that was just Mavis.
The living area of the apartment was draped with miles of fabrics. Some, she supposed, were art of some kind; others, Leonardo’s designs in progress. The rather lumpy sofa Eve had left behind when she’d moved in with Roarke was covered now with a bright and nervy pink material that shimmered like polished glass. If that wasn’t enough, it was heaped with pillows and throws of clashing colors that seemed to drip onto the floor where more cloths were cleverly tossed in lieu of rugs.
Beads and spangles and ribbons, and God knew what, rained down the walls, tinkled gaily from the ceiling, which had been painted a high-sheen silver studded with crimson stars.
Even the tables were fabric, arty lumps of shape that could be called in for seating in a pinch. Eve didn’t think there was a hard surface or a right angle left in the place.
And while she was vaguely concerned that staying there for
any length of time might bring on a stroke, it was a frame that suited the picture of her oldest friend perfectly.
The effect was something like a storm-edged sunrise. On Venus.
“I’m so glad you came by.” Mavis dragged Eve into the psychodelia, then turned a stylish circle. “What do you think?”
“Of what, exactly?”
“Of the new gear?”
Tiny, slim, and bright as a fairy wand, Mavis turned again, showing off a short-skirted . . . you couldn’t call it a dress, Eve decided. A costume, she supposed, of crossed diagonal stripes that ran from deep purple to neon pink and back again. The bodice scooped low, just tucking the nipples under and left Mavis’s shoulders—adorned now with twin pansy tattoos—bare.
Sleeves—they had to be sleeves because as far as Eve knew, gloves had hands—skimmed down her arms. Needle-heeled boots, in the same dizzy stripes, rode up her legs to just under crotch level.
“It’s—” She had no idea. “Amazing.”
“Yeah, isn’t it? TTT. Too totally terrific. Trina’s going to do my hair to match. Leonardo’s a complete genius. Leonardo, Dallas is here. He’s making a batch of screamers,” she told Eve. “You came by at the exact moment. I hate drinking alone, and you know how Leonardo can’t.”
She kept up the chatter, pulling Eve toward the pink couch. She wasn’t giving her friend a chance to escape until she knew what was going on.
“Here he is.” Her voice went to coo, her eyes went gooey. “Thanks, honey love.”
Leonardo, a giant of a man with long, glossy braids, gold eyes, and the smooth copper skin of a mixed-race heritage, swirled into the room. He moved with uncanny grace for a man topping six-five and wearing a hooded ankle duster of Atlantic blue. He beamed at Mavis, and the ruby studs beside his mouth and just under his left eyebrow winked flirtatiously.
He cooed right back at her. “You’re welcome, turtledove. Hello, Dallas. I put together a little snack, in case you haven’t had dinner.”
“Isn’t he TTT?”
“You bet,” Eve said as Mavis cuddled up against him. Even in the boots, she didn’t make it to his breastbone. “You didn’t have to go to any trouble, Leonardo.”
“None at all.” He set down a tray loaded with food and drink. “It’s nice you came by so Mavis won’t spend the evening alone. I have some appointments.”
Mavis sent him an adoring look. Their plans had been to have a rare quiet evening together. When she’d told him Eve was coming by and something was wrong, he’d agreed without a murmur to her request that he make himself scarce.
He was, Mavis thought with a sigh, perfect.
“I can’t stay long,” Eve began, but Leonardo was already scooping Mavis up in his long arms, kissing her in a deep and intimate way that had Eve wincing and looking away.