“FREAKING BASTARD,” Ava muttered in the ladies’ a short while later as she repaired the makeup she’d sweated off on the dance floor. Straightening from where she’d been leaning into the mirror to reapply her lipstick, Jane met her reflected gaze. “Who’s a freaking— No. Wait. Cade?” Her eyes narrowed. “What’d the bastard do now?” “Claimed Eduardo doesn’t exist.” “That assho—” Jane’s slender dark brows drew together, and her ready best-friend indignation faded. She turned to look at Ava directly. “Um, Av…Eduardo doesn’t exist.” “I know that!” She shot her brunette friend an impatient frown. “It was the way he said it. All Mr. I’m-so-sardonically-amused-at-the-lengths-you’ll-go-to-get-my-attention. As if, when I hadn’t said a word about Eduardo! Then there’s that stinking eyebrow lift thing he does. How the hell does anyone raise just one brow, anyhow?” “Maybe he Botoxed the other.” A delighted laugh burbled out of her, and the dark cloud that had been hanging over her spirits since Cade had made her suspect she’d been suckered by that dirty-pool seductive slow dance finally lifted.
