Everybody Loves Evie Read Online Free PDF Page B

competitive witch. I’d responded to her e-vite three days after receiving it. For me—someone who’s not glued to the Internet—that was timely. Unable to attend due to work, I’d written. A big, fat lie, but I had my reasons. I’d listed them at length in my diary.
    â€œAs you know, Mrs. Grable is moving to Florida to enjoy her golden years. Several of her past students are reuniting for a special benefit performance and going-away party. As one of her pet pupils, I thought you’d want to contribute—”
    I cut Monica off midsentence, something I’d never do in person. Nice girls don’t interrupt. Except I wasn’t so nice anymore. I’d tarnished my conservative, respectable crown when I’d taken up with Arch. I was learning to speak my mind, stand my ground. I was…evolving. Even though I had fond memories of my high-school drama teacher, I wasn’t eager to be reminded of who Mrs. Grable thought I’d been destined to become. A big-time star. I wasn’t thrilled about attending a party and having to meet my thespian classmates’ spouses. I could hear it now.
    Where are you performing, Evie?
    I’m between bookings.
    When’s your next engagement?
    I’m considering my options.
    Where’s your husband?
    Boinking a lingerie model.
    Kids?
    Me? No. But there’s a bun in the model’s oven.
    You can understand my reluctance to commit. I made a mental note to send Monica an e-mail—no way did I want to actually speak to the petty woman—explaining the improbability of obtaining a donation from an Atlantic City casino for a civic theater in Greenville, Indiana. Instead I’d offer a personal monetary donation for the cause. For now, I wiped Monica from my mind, punched auto-dial and focused on a true friend.
    Nicole answered on the second ring. “Please tell me you’re home.”
    Her husky smoker’s voice was music to my ears. I’d been so consumed with Arch these past days I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed my best buds. Nicole Sparks, a tall, lithe beauty with mocha skin, green eyes and a no-nonsense demeanor, and Jayne Robinson, a not-so-tall kewpie doll with big brown eyes, vibrant red curls and a fascination with the supernatural. Both closing in on forty. Both seasoned performers. Both hurting for work.
    â€œI’m home.” Such as it was.
    â€œFor how long?”
    Nic was nothing if not blunt. I steeled myself before asking, “What do you mean?”
    â€œFirst you split for the Caribbean for several days—”
    â€œA last-minute booking.”
    â€œSo you said, although you never filled us in on the particulars. You returned home ahead of schedule with a bandaged head and flew out again the next day. Said you were meeting a friend in London. Only after significant badgering did you admit said friend was the hunk you lusted after on the elusive cruise-ship gig.” She paused, and I knew without seeing her that she’d just lit a cigarette. Nic had a few vices, but smoking, as far as I was concerned, was the worst. “We’re thrilled that you’re getting some nooky, Evie. God knows Jayne and I have been trying to hook you up for months. But why all the secrecy?”
    â€œHe’s not married, if that’s what you’re worried about.” I wasn’t sure about a lot where Arch was concerned, but I was one hundred—okay, ninety-nine percent—sure that he was single.
    â€œWe’re worried about you,” she said. “When I called with the news that Michael had gotten Sasha pregnant, you said you didn’t care.”
    I palmed my upset stomach. Motion, not morning, sickness mixed with suppressed bitterness. “I don’t care.”
    â€œBullshit. The only reason you never had a baby was because Michael said he didn’t want children. And now—”
    â€œNow he’s with someone else and I’ve moved