2011-03-11: Home Invasion



Date: March 11, 2011


The missus and the mistress clingy employee. Protests of innocence fall on unsympathetic ears.

"Home Invasion"

George's apartment, Washington, DC

Even with the pleasant surprise around lunch time - especially because of it - it's been another long day of work. Productive, to be sure, but wearing. It's like George was saying earlier in the day, you get to the apartment and you don't care how comfy it is, only that there's room to crash. He leans heavily against the door frame as he struggles with the key… it's been looking a little bent lately, probably time to get a new one remastered. And maybe he should have picked up a bottle of something stronger than tap water on his way in.

You know it's one of those days when everything seems to go wrong. Evette handled the morning in flawless fashion, like always. There is just something odd to watching her do her job. She's fantastic at it, even without her powers. In fact, she probably could get a presidental job. She also secretly loves it, a lot. However, like most good days in politics, it starts to get off the rails.

First, George took a long lunch. Now there were not meetings for him, but it threw off her meetings for her. Then the day just sped up after lunch and she forgot that one pesky issue of eating. In fact, Evette still hasn't ate. She didn't eat when she stopped by the store. She didn't eat when she passed all the places in the cab. She didn't eat when she walked into the building and up to a familiarish apartment. Why didn't she eat? Because our awesome girl friday bought booze. It's oddly, and maybe a little roll of fate, the exact favorite of a certain George Dawson.

About ten minutes after he arrives, maybe fifteen, there is a knock that comes to his door. Knock, Knock George. Evette stands outside looking at her phone for a long moment. It is never out of her hand and she rarely does social visits when sober. This is just a strange, challenging day all around.

George has ditched the jacket - draped over the edge of the closet door, as it's due to be dry-cleaned anyway - and is settled on the couch, flipping through a notepad. There's a jazz station playing in the background, volume turned down to avoid being a distraction. At the sound of the knock, he blinks, setting the pad down and wandering over to open the door. "Oh, you. You do realize the overtime rate doesn't double after four hours, right?"

Evette moves to walk past him. "Where is your phone?" That seems like an odd question and yet at the same time, totally not from her. Did he miss a call for something important? Evette is still in the short skirt, long jacket, high heels and killer take on the world visage from work. Her eyes of that startling blue look at him. Alson in her hand. Mmm that's right, his favorite drink of choice. It's good to be George.

Well, it would be, if he felt like partaking with Evette around. Not that he'd do something stupid, but it would be tempting fate for something to go wrong. Maybe he should've snuck out tonight and joined Alexandra after all… "Over on top of the partition," he replies, pointing out the landline as he closes the door behind her. "Batteries run out on yours?" Or his own? They looked fine the last time he thought to check.

Evette moves to walk to the phone and frowns. The bottle is set on the counter next to it as she kicks off her shoes. "No, I mean your cell phone where is it?" Yep, she must have tried calling him and he didn't hear it. Her eyes move back to the radio with a slight curve of her lips. Oh my God, she almost smiled at the jazz playing. "I like Jazz. There is something calming about it. I like Blues too, but .. I haven't found anywhere really good with Blues around here. I was thinking while we are here, maybe before we go back to New York we can sound out a place?" Evette sounds tired, but not angry.

"Oh, over by the briefcase, I think." Another vague motion of his hand; the items in question are sitting in the corner near the jacket. "The only way to find good blues is to find a guy that life's kicked in the teeth a few times. What were you calling about?" So he can get it over with and show her out already.

"I wasn't." Evette offers as she picks up his phone and clicks it off. She then sets it next to the landline and unplugs that one. It's finally it. She's going to kill him. Instead she does the most inconceivable thing EVER. She…. she… turns off her own phone. Evette walks back over towards him. "Why don't we just have a night without phones? I could really use just a friend and some downtime. Today was a madhouse." She isn't flirting with him, but she is looking at him with those big, big, baby blues of hers. He did get to get away and did leave her to deal with that. As well as she's not normally one to crash at his place or turn off her phone. Evette holds up the bottle. "I got your favorite." It is given in a soft, almost uncertain tone. It's as if the very secure and sure of herself woman is waiting for him to kick her out. So she pulls the biggest thing from her bag of sincerity. "Please?"

Oh. Oh dear. This is absolutely, positively, unquestionably bad. Is she actually trying to seduce him with the innocent act, or is she just in one of those odd moods? Either way, this has potential disaster written all over it. "I— really don't think that's a good idea," replies George, not-so-subtly taking a step back toward the door. "What you need is a good night's sleep."

"And maybe some dinner first?" he adds, after a moment's thought. He's seen hunger fatigue a few times before, and she's exhibiting some of the same symptoms. "There's peanut butter and bread in the kitchen." Sometimes he doesn't want to bother thinking about that aspect of his day, either, nor take the time to find a place to go out to.

Evette looks a bit forlorn. No wait. She looks worse. It really looks as if he crushed her for that moment when he says no. Evette looks around for a moment and then seems uncertain what to do with herself. "I.." Nothing more comes from her after that one word, or letter. It is that moment that reality may dawn on George. Can't he just picture in his head the trip in Texas when she said why she didn't date? Because she never trusts anyone not to hurt her when her walls are down. That memory won't flash with help, it may just be something he remembers. Why? Because the sorrow and need for someone was sincere and her wall was down for a moment. One small moment.

Evette walks over and sets the bottle next to the phone. "I'll.. I'm not hungry." Her back is to him as she does that unmistakable breath a woman does when getting back under control. The woman is trying hard to not sound and look as disappointed as she feels. Eve bends to pick up her shoes and then walk towards his door. "Have a good night, George." She's taken both phones, but not by malice.

Man, that was close, George thinks to himself, finger closing around the door handle and easing it shut again behind her. She needs a friend, but Jesus, it can't be me. Returning to his spot on the couch, he turns the notepad to a fresh page and begins writing. « Find another Ted for— »

In mid-scrawl, the notepad is dropped once again, as there's a bang noise from somewhere out in the parking lot. What the hell was that? It sounded like someone getting shot. In this neighborhood? He looks around for his cell phone - which is distinctly absent, now - finally settling for plugging the landline back in. What would he actually tell 911, though? Letting go of the receiver, he walks toward the door instead, looking out to see if he can spot what the noise was all about.

Stupid effing night! Stupid effing car! Stupid effing tire! Evette is pondering actually crying like a mortal person. That noise? It was her tire. Was is the main word out of that sentence. For now it is just shreds and she doesn't have a spare. Who does this happen to? A breath is pulled into her lungs as she turns to walk back towards his door. Only… he's already got it open.

Knowing your 'friend' makes things happen causes a moment of suspicion on Evette's part. She looks up at him and offers. "My new tire blew on the car." Maybe he secretly wants her here. I mean afterall, she did say Alexandra was a bad idea. Her being here keeps Alexandra away. She reaches out to touch his arm, as if to calm him. There is nothing said when she does, she just waits to see if he recoils in horror or not.

Normally, he probably would have, but just at that moment George is too busy steeling himself against the realization that it's going to be one of those days. Nights. Whatever. "You didn't get it at Ludlow down the street, did you? That place'll rip you off without breaking a sweat."

Well, so much for getting rid of Evette for the night— and this late in the day, so much for calling in a tow truck. He'll just have to put up with her till morning, after all.

Evette keeps her hand upon his arm for a moment. "I'm sorry." She shakes her head to that. "No, I already knew about him. I had him looked into when he wanted to invest in your campaign." Evette's blue eyes lift to his. Wouldn't it be better if someone like her was beside him? Someone who understands and is in politics. It is a strange thought to have, but it is probably occurring in his head right now. The hand is lifted as she moves further into the room. "I hope I'm not wrecking your evening." Evette sets her shoes back down near the door as she looks up at him. "So.. what now? No work stuff, remember?" The assistant lowers her brows, but not before the suspicion is seen. It is kind of strange for her new tire to burst.

"Good call. Bad reputations are infectious." Not that it matters that much - nobody much in New York will care about a local business in DC - but it's a good habit to be in. Why she works for you, George thinks to himself. Still. Maybe he should offer to renew her contract when it comes up, after all. She's still kind of a pain in the ass, but he's gotten used to it by now.

"I was actually gonna hit the hay pretty soon," he answers, "just reviewing some notes for tomorrow. So no, no plans being wrecked. Make yourself at home on the couch, I guess." No, he doesn't offer to take it himself for the night.

Evette nods her head. "Can I borrow a shirt of something?" She indicates the amazing lack of comfortable dress. "Also, a shower would be nice." The woman just sort of looks at him for a long moment before leaning against a wall. "Why are you so quick to avoid me? I haven't cancelled your 'get away' appointments. I've been relatively good since election." Relatively.

He opts for the 'something', returning shortly with a generic terrycloth bathrobe and a couple of bath towels. "It's down the hallw—" George cuts off, setting the things down on the back of the couch as he listens, keeping it more or less between himself and her.

"I'm tired, Evette, it's been a long day. And I had to offer some personal support on short notice, earlier." Speaking of those getaways… His tone remains casual, but not what anyone would call comfortable. "I thought you might have been able to find a peer group here of all places. Isn't there a bar somewhere where everyone goes and complains about how their bosses are a bunch of unreasonable jerks?"

Evette moves over to pick up the items. "Probably, but I don't think you are an unreasonable jerk." Aww, look it's her fleshy underbelly and it's exposed for his pointy teeth. Evette shrugs and perchs on the end of the couch, but does not touch him. "I guess I could go meet people and make friends, but my schedule is more taxing than yours in the non-election time." She has a point. "Then what am I going to talk about? My job that I have to watch what I say or you are misquoted. It's just easier with you since you are sort of in the same area as me. You are worried about you as much as I worry about you." She lifts her brows to that. "Personal support." The words are echoed and then she nods as she pushes off the couch. "Down the hall?"

George shakes his head. "Five years ago, I had your job… well, lower down the food chain, but still. Do what you're doing now— leave work behind, once in a while. If you've painted yourself in a corner, well, there are lots of other corners." Maybe less so in DC. It's the boss's prerogative to throw out random guesses with false confidence.

"Yeah, on the left, you can't miss it. Only other door on that side's got a water heater behind it." Leaving her to get cleaned up, he wanders into the kitchen for a glass of water, then disappears again into the bedroom.


The click of the door has her sliding out of her clothing and she moves to put them in the wash. She's going to have to wear them for work tomorrow. The bottle of alcohol is lifted as she pours two glasses. "Hey do you w.." The rest is not given as she realizes that he's worked too much and is tired. A breath leaves her lips as she dumps the two glasses and commits alcohol abuse. It is only then that she moves to take a shower, wrapped in nothing but his robe.

The reason that calls Alexandra to visit is known only to her at this point. It could be that she's in town. It could be that George's cellphone is actually off for once. Or that his landline isn't being answered and off the hook as well. Whatever those reasons, it leads her to his apartment and leads to a…

Knock on the door

Only when the door opens a few minutes later, it isn't George that answers. Soft jazz music is playing in the background and Evette opens the door. She's wrapped in George's robe and is currently toweling off her hair. "Can I help yo.." That is when who Alexandra is comes into realization. Evette casts a look over her shoulder and to the bedroom, as if to check to make sure the door is closed. Then the blues of her eyes flit back to Alexandra. "Hi."

The assistant lounges in the door for the moment, as if waiting to hear if something is wrong.

"I got to thinking, more news has come out over the da…" Alex begins to say, assuming that it'd be George who'd open the door at the address he'd given her. But then, that's not who's standing there. That leaves Alexandra there, blinking.

Well, blinking until her eyes start to narrow. "What the hell?! Where's George?" The initials GD sure as hell aren't Evette's, but the robe sure as hell says GD! "What's going on in here?" No matter if Evette stands in the door or not, Alex doesn't wait to be invited in; she starts to push her way across the threshold. "Get out of the way."

Evette puts her hand on Alexandra for a few moments. "Whoooa. You need to calm down." She doesn't actually 'influence' the girl though. "He's in bed.. it was a late night." Evette shrugs and moves in that direction. "GEORGE!" That will work for his attention. "You might want to come out here." Evette tightens the robe as there is nothing else under it. "You want a drink?" She moves towards the kitchen a bit to this and then changes her mind and leans against the couch.

"Muh?" Articulate George is articulate. Before Alexandra has time to actually lay hands on anything breakable, though - with the possible likely exception of Evette's arm - he opens the door and peeks out, indeed bleary-eyed. Which changes in a hurry as soon as he realizes who else's voice he just heard. "Tire. Blown out. Go show— I didn't invite her here, I tried to get rid of her."

He already knows exactly what it looks like, but even as he talks, little details start clicking into place. The deactivated phones. The bare couch— she saw where the linen closet was, no need to actually haul the stuff out for her, right? Goddammit, this could be the end of it all right here.

"A late night? A late night? A late night? What the hell? A tire? How many cabs are in this town?" Oh, irrational rage, you're so…irrational! "No…no I don't want a drink!" Hair is all flying about as Alex gestures between Evette and George, working up a right proper rage. She keeps herself well away from Evette, though, lest she do something she might later regret.

Evette is silent for a moment as she looks from one to the other. "I would prefer not to go out on the streets of DC at night, naked except for a robe. Thanks for the thought though." Then she looks back towards Alexandra. "Really my brand new tire blew out. It was really annoying. He asked me to leave before that though." Wait, is she telling the truth currently? Then she smiles a bit. "Sooo.. yeah. It's so totally not what it looks like."

Thump. Thump. Thump. That would be George leaning heavily against the wall and hitting his head against it. Just barely visible from Alexandra's vantage point is the hem of a dark green pajama set, which also doesn't help matters any. "How many cabs are in town? Plenty. How many cabs are here? They're all crowded around downtown— by the time any of them got out here, it'd practically be morning. I tried once, last year, I know." He may have perennial good luck - though it sure as hell seems to have deserted him today - but he can't exactly work miracles.

Alexandra furrows her brows. "You were naked…before the tire blew out? WHY were you naked here in the first place?!" Aaaaaand right back to crazy after that brief moment of clarity. "Aren't there car services in the phone book? I'm sure you're not the first politician to have to get a girl out at all odd hours! You could charge it to the taxpayers." Cutting to the quick, this one is. Then back to Evette. "Then just what is it? I'm soooo curious to hear!"

Evette was watching until that. Her eyes darken a moment and fury comes off of her. This is the Eve that George is familiar with. It's the one about to react in ways that wreck people. Dennis almost had to deal with it when he slandered. Evette pushes herself off the couch. "Shut the fuck up before you say something you can't take back." The woman offers to Alexandra. "First, I never really shower with my clothing on. Second, what is going on? Some irrational bitch is throwing her relationship away for no good reason." Evette takes a step forwards, but there is no touching. "Third, don't ever ever imply me the kind of girl that needs to take a ride back from a politican's office. You don't know me, don't try to insult me. More important people have tried and failed, much like what you are doing." It is here that her voice drops to a snarl. One doesn't even need to know her to know there is more threat in what is not being said. "Finally, don't EVER…" Yep, she yelled. ".. imply that a man that works his ass off to try to make time for you is doing something stupid like a teenager. There was a point I got wasted and crashed at his place in New York. You know what, sweetcheeks, he just made sure I was okay and didn't touch me." Evette has it right before her. She could help nudge this to destruction. However, her George was insulted trigger just got touched. "Do you really think he would do that to you? Because if you are so insecure, then I have been right. Not only can you not hack to be with a politician, but you don't deserve him." Evette glares a bit more before she backs out of Alexandra's space to lounge. Her clothing must not be currently accessible.

Really, because pushing it the rest of the way over the cliff is sort of what George was expecting Evette to do— and then he'd throw her out, pay her golden-parachute fee, and stew a lot over being single again. Once it becomes clear that that isn't what's happening, he walks out to the kitchen, getting himself another drink (orange juice straight up, this time) as he waits for her to finish. "She— kind of has a point there. Not the 'don't deserve' part, but seriously, if I didn't want to see you any more? I'd have the balls to tell you to your face." Still working his way through the fatigue, he leans an elbow against the countertop separating kitchen from living room. "And yeah, I could have dragged somebody else out of bed to come give her a ride back to her place, or something, I just— didn't push the issue hard enough."

Earthquake edginess aside, he hopes that that's explanation enough for Alex. He really doesn't want Evette to turn out to be completely right.

"I…I can't handle this. She's crazy…you know that? Good lord!" Alexandra just throws her hands up in the air, not really knowing what to make of Evette's sudden turn into psychosis. "She could be a serial murderer for all I know!" To say Alex is out of her element is a vast understatement. Not quite used to dealing with the machinations of DC wheelers-and-dealers - the problems of being an academic from the south, and sheltered at that - and definitely out of the comfort zone as her ability is practically useless here, the best course of action is to GTFO. "I need fresh air. I'll…I'll be outside."

Evette blinks a bit. She's crazy? Well maybe but in this one? She looks at George and walks over to him to mutter. However, she's also a bit stuck here as her clothing is in the wash cycle of cleaning. The woman then looks at Alexandra. It takes everything for her not to say or do everything but she manages.

Evette whispers: I suppose this is where the drama queen runs out and you give chase.

Leaving the drink untouched, George leaves as well, heading back into the bedroom. There's a pause as he sorts through a drawer: League of Evil Exes, no. Scotty Doesn't Know, no. A couple minutes later, he emerges once again - blue jeans and an inoffensively plain gray t-shirt, barefoot - and, offering Evette merely a passing shrug, heads outside to catch up with Alexandra. He doesn't say anything right away, waiting until he can see how she's doing on her own so far.

"That woman's crazy. I'm pretty sure of it. Her eyes are…I don't know what her deal is. I don't care for her much." Alexandra hasn't wandered far, just down the walk a bit from the entrance to the building. On the concrete, as she explained earlier, she can figure George is coming without turning around. She's standing there in the dusk, just looking out into the street.

Evette is left in the apartment. There is just a sigh when the couple walks out as she moves and picks up George's untouched juice. "Early morning, Evie. Don't drink." The woman moves to sit down on the couch; waiting for them to return.

"I know," offers George, "but— well, mostly she just stays on top of the schedule. Or we turn her loose on someone we don't like and watch the fur fly." He leaves off the she doesn't care for you either part— that much, they already covered pretty thoroughly. His hands are in his pockets, but he reaches one out for Alex's shoulder as he draws closer. "I'll make it up to you tomorrow, all right? We'll figure something out, when I'm not still crashing."

"And on top of oth…no. No, that's not fair." When he touches her shoulder, she shrugs away. "I don't want to have it made up. I just want to know what the hell's going on. I don't believe her. I still don't understand why she would ever have to get naked there in the first place. It's all too…circumstantial. Too convenient. Your word and hers against my gut feeling!"

George draws his hand back again, fingers momentarily balling up in frustration. He could understand her making a crack like that now— but it's not the first time, and really, how much reason did she have before? "I don't know, Alex. She asked to use the shower, I said go ahead— not that I can prove anything. But why would she lie to you? Wouldn't she let you run off so she could have me all to herself?" Any number of reasons - pride, first and foremost, not wanting to admit to things - but nothing he'd think of on his own. He'd have to be more clear-headed to come up with anything like that on his own.

"I don't know. I don't know. I'm not thinking about this. She just got up in my face like that and ARGH!" Alex gives a little stomp on the ground - thankfully without any trembling - and wraps her arms around herself. "I'm not going back in there. I…just don't want to. I think I should just go back to the hotel."

George sighs and nods. There doesn't seem to be anything else he can say to ease the tension; tugging her back inside is absolutely a non-starter. "I guess. We'll try again tomorrow, all right?" One day at a time, and several other cliches like that.

"Yeah…tomorrow. Maybe after I sleep, and after you sleep, and after she leaves…" The sentence really doesn't get finished. Alex just pulls the collar of her coat up and pulls it shut tighter.

Evette is going through all his stuff. She's wrecked the apartment! Okay, really Eve is just sitting on the couch. She's looking at the juice for a long moment. Although Evie stole it, she hasn't taken a sip of it. In fact, the woman looks lost in her own thoughts even as the couple returns.

Or half returns, rather; George is by himself, Alexandra presumably heading back out to her car. "It's not poisoned, if that's what you're wondering," he quips, walking over to the still-bare couch and flopping down. "And thank you for not being drunk, I suppose. That would have been a disaster." Belatedly, he gets up again and shuts off the dissonantly serene music.

Evette turns her eyes towards him. "I didn't think it was." Evette's voice is soft as she seems to be considering something. "You going to fire me now? I figure she probably asked you and now it might get down to an ultimatium." Eve turns her eyes away as if not really wanting to see the answer.

George shakes his head. "No, no ultimatum. It's not even really about her not liking you… The thing is, her thoughts keep going to 'maybe he's cheating on you', and she catches herself, but it still ends up happening again. I don't know if it's you, or me, or something from her past—" It might be easier if Evette knew about Alexandra's ability, then he could explain what was in her past. Then again, Alexandra knowing about Evette's ability… "I want to help her, but I have no idea how. —And what am I asking you for, anyway? Like you're going to know?"

This is where she jumps in and says the woman isn't perfect for him. Comeon, we are all waiting for it. Evette is the bitch of capital hill. She eats annoying people and uses their bones as toothpicks. She's the stronghold of lack of emotions. She's the excutioner's huckleberry.

So the fact that she's so silent now is an indication that something is wrong. She likes him. The thought reverberates in her mind now and there is a pallor cast to her features as she stares at the juice again. Fuck. Then Eve clears her throat and looks up at him. "You want to help her because you love her." The voice is weak and distinctly lacking lioness.

"I don't know if I would help her if I could." Evette is sincere as she watches him. "I don't think she's right for a man in politics. What happens if she pulled the jealousy card in the middle of an important meeting? What happens when you are on the road and gone for months on end?" She shakes her head to that and then looks towards the floor a bit. "Now when you have to work late, she's going to wonder if you are sleeping with me. Everything you do is going to be under the microscope while I'm around." There is a soft laugh. "I'm sorry. You are witnessing my pity party and it's not about me. Sorry."

George doesn't answer right away, leaning back into the couch and staring up at the ceiling. It's such a peaceful ceiling. "There is no Miss Right, I think. I've been through some breakups before… this doesn't feel like one of those, but then it never does. Besides" Just as quickly, he stands up again, walking past Evette as he reclaims the drink. "what kind of low standard is that, 'someone who can put up with me'? When did 'someone who's interesting' fall off the list?"

"Of course there is, George. The problem is that we don't tend to see them because they are standing in front of us. Or they are standing beside us and with us when we are focused on the wrong ones." Evette offers as she pulls her feet up a bit on the couch. "My parents are very much in love. My brother and his partner are in love. I just.." She shakes her head to that. "I tend to fall for the wrong ones." There is a curve of her lips as she leans her head back against the couch. "I'm sure you aren't broken up. No one in their right mind is going to let you slip through their fingers, G." One can almost here G Dawg in how she said that.

Oh, sure, Evette, that was nice and subtle. And as the implication hits him, George's stomach twists, almost rejecting the drink as he finally gets around to taking a sip. Forget Evette's ability; Alex finding out about this would really screw everything up in a hurry. "Assuming that she is in her right mind, which you seem to doubt. Either way… there've been a couple of perfectly right-minded women where things still didn't work out. There aren't any rules to it."

Evette didn't actually mean that implication. She's musing that's all. Really. Sincerely. There is a lowering of her brows at that reaction as she looks over to him. "George, can I ask you something? It is something stupid that I will deny asking you if ever brought up again."

George shrugs, taking a seat again and leaning heavily against the side. "You can ask. I reserve the right to plead the fifth." The drink is finished off, the glass set aside to be hauled over to the sink later. He suspects he'd be better off sitting down for whatever this turns out to be.

Evette nods her head. "I don't want an answer actually. I want you to think about it. When something goes wrong in life, who do you go to help fix it or tell you that it will be okay?" Eve obviously knows she's out of the running. "Who do you know is always in your corner, or who do you find yourself thinking about more and more?" There is no pull of power from her. She is talking like one mortal to another. "When you have to make a decision, who's voice is in your head leading that?" Evette looks over at him. She does look good in his robe though. "That's the right one. No matter what I think or anyone else does. I'm never going to think she's right for you. However, it is your life not mine. I'm just…" Eve pauses. Her blue eyes assess him and his body language. Then that open wall starts to close up a bit in protection of her fleshy little heart. "Do you want to be with her? I mean.. really want to be with her or are you just with her because now it is familiar?" Evette's voice is soft as she curls into the other corner to give him the space from her he seems to be seeking.

Indeed, he doesn't answer right away, just sitting there quietly, keeping his thoughts to himself. Then, finally, he gets up and takes a step closer. And another. And another, reaching down—

—and picking up a remote control that got knocked onto the carpet earlier. "Good night, Evette." And off he goes once again, closing the door behind him. And, judging from the sound, locking it again on general principle.

The questions will nag at him, and not just that night, either. But he's not about to give her the satisfaction of watching it happen.

Evette watches him go and sighs a bit more to the sound of the click of the door. It is only then that she retrieves her own cellphone and retreats to the non-pillowed and non-blanketed corner of the couch. The familiar number is dialed as she drops her voice to an almost whisper. "Pierre, it's Evie… no everything's okay. Well.. actually it's not. I might .. I might have to come back to California…. …. No. He hasn't fired me, yet. I think I messed up in another way…" Her voice carries off to talk to the male on the other end; while George locks the bedroom door and sleeps. Surprise visits are always fun.

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