"Sorry," I mutter, clearing my throat. "I, uh… needed it."
"I noticed."
She takes my empty flute and exchanges it for a fresh one from the passing waitress.
Then she hands me the new one delicately.
"I'm Eva."
Eva.
Elegant name. Sharp. Soft.
It..... suits her.
I blink. "Eva…?"
Her smile widens. "Cross."
My stomach drops.
"Alex's cousin," she clarifies gently, reading my reaction instantly. "Not his sister. Not his mother's side. His father's."
My breath un-sticks.
"Oh. Right."
I take a sip to cover the awkward swirl of relief.
Of course Alex has other relatives. I just… never see them.
Eva studies me for a second, her eyes warm not judgmental, not critical, not fake.
Then she touches my arm.
"You handled yourself beautifully tonight, you know."
The champagne nearly goes down the wrong way.
I cough. "What are you talking about?"
She grins. "Please. I saw you knee that arrogant brat on the balcony."
My cheeks flame.
Of course someone saw.
Of course.
