POV: EVE
Eve had been watching the elevator for the past twenty minutes.
Mike sat on the couch, scrolling through his phone, pretending not to notice her pacing.
"He texted thirty minutes ago that he landed," Mike said without looking up. "Traffic from the airport is at least forty-five minutes. You're going to wear a hole in the floor."
"I don't care." Eve moved back to the window, looked out at the city. "He's been gone four days. That's longer than we planned."
"Giovanni needed more convincing. Dimitri handled it." Mike finally looked up. "He's fine, Eve. He texted you this morning."
"I know." She turned back. "But texting isn't the same as seeing him. Touching him. Making sure he's actually okay."
Mike smiled. "You've got it bad."
"I love him." Eve said it simply, without embarrassment. "So yes. I've got it bad."
