
He's resting his head against the elevator wall. His eyes are closed, and he's seemingly dead on his feet—until he mumbles, "You don't party much. Do you, Eva?"
I decide to cut him some slack and not take it as an insult. "I don't have time," I reply, choosing to be as direct as possible with him.
"Then let me give you some advice." He tilts his head until I'm falling under his heavy-lidded gaze. "All work and no play isn't the key to happiness, either."
I stare at our side-by-side reflection in the elevator door, his posture all dejected, mine stiff as a board.
I watch his eyes watching me. "You're right," I readily admit, refusing to let him get a rise out of me. But my response only seems to infuriate him more.
"Good, because I don't need your help," he huffs, getting off ahead of me as soon as the door opens.
I shake my head. I have to hand it to him. He timed his rebuff perfectly.
Coming July 10, 2015