Holy shit! Eve has a gun?

My immediate instinct is to hide and pretend we aren’t here while hers is to take out a weapon. Do I know this woman? She moves toward the door.

I flail my arms, mouthing, No!

Eve ignores me and quickly opens the door, as though she needs to act before changing her mind. It’s Slade.

He sees the gun and immediately raises his arms. “Whoa.”

We both stare, open-mouthed and shocked. Speak of the devil …

Eve lowers her gun, hand shaking.

“What’s wrong?” He looks between us in confusion, and we burst into laughter.

“We thought—you were—a killer ex-husband—but instead—it’s you,” I speak between fits of laughter.

A few seconds later, I get ahold of myself. But Eve cannot stop laughing. I know she has this issue; when she starts with the nervous laughter, she cannot stop.

“Here we go again.” Slade chuckles. “Lauren, get this woman some water. For God’s sake, Eve.” He laughs himself.

She wipes tears from the corners of her eyes, but her body is still going at it.

“Care to tell me what’s so fucking funny? I’m not the psycho husband. Maybe we should do a special code word, so you know it’s me.”

“How about just a text letting us know you’re coming?”

He smiles at me. “Smart girl.”

“It’s you!” Eve laughs. “We thought—”

She’s cackling as Slade and I roll our eyes. The girl is losing it.

“Well, I’m here to check up on you all. Not kill either one of you. But, Eve, I might have to take matters into my own hands if you don’t stop laughing. Christ!” His body shakes from his own laughter. “This shit is contagious.”

Eve turns to face the window, taking large, heaving breaths.

“So, all is well?” Slade asks me.

In unison, Eve and I say, “We’re great!”

She looks at me, ready to crack up again.

I point a finger at her. “Don’t laugh, Eve. Take another breath,” I speak slowly, wanting to keep her from another giggle attack.

“Oh, you! Get to work,” she stutters out.

“Yes, boss.” I leave her office, and Slade follows behind.

“Come to my place for dinner tonight?”

“You want me to come over? To your home?” I try keeping the shock from my voice, but it’s there.

“Yep.” He stands straight and tall, full of confidence.

“Oh, um, Eve told me there was some restaurant opening.”

“That’s tomorrow night.” He leans against the wall, legs crossed casually.

I nod. “Okay, I’ll come. Do you want to pick up any food from the supermarket? I can cook.”

“No. I’m cooking. I’ll pick you up from here. Seven thirty?”

“That sounds good.” He kisses the top of my head before leaving, strutting out like the self-assured man he is.

I’m shell-shocked. Slade just asked me to dinner. At his house!

After seven, Eve asks my plans for tonight. The work here is never-ending, but it is more fulfilling than anything I’ve ever done.