Dawn of Eve - MJ Howson (read full novel .txt) 📗

into the lobby and paused to give himself one final look in the mirror. He leaned forward and ran a finger across his scar, twisting his head to see how the edges reflected the lighting. Jacob closed his eyes and allowed himself to momentarily recall the ebony-handled straight razor blade that sliced his face and ended his modeling career. The sound of the door to Dawn’s apartment opening caused him to open his eyes. He turned to see Dawn smiling, standing in the doorway.

“Wow,” Jacob said. “You look . . . colorful.”

Dawn, decked out in a full-length floral-patterned evening gown, stepped into the foyer. Her vibrant dress flowed as she walked to Jacob. She said, “Thanks.”

Jacob took Dawn by her hands and looked her up and down. The flowery dress popped in shades of red, blue, and green leaves and petals. He said, “I can’t think of the last time I saw you in a dress that wasn’t black or white.”

“It’s from my mother’s 2006 collection. She was inspired by Van Gogh’s floral paintings.” Dawn stepped back and spun around, causing her gown to twirl and float. “Doesn’t the material flow beautifully?”

“And is that makeup?”

“It’s just a bit of lipstick and eyeliner.”

“You used to save that for special occasions.” Jacob smiled and scratched the stubble on his chin. Dawn seemed like a different person. He pulled her close and kissed her gently on her lips. Dawn buried her face against his chest and held him softly. Jacob ran his nose across the top of her head and chuckled. He said, “You still haven’t dyed your hair.”

Dawn laughed and pried herself away from Jacob. Her hair cascaded past her shoulders, her black roots now three inches long. She said, “I plan to color it. Eventually.”

Jacob slid his arm around Dawn, and the two went into her apartment. The fireplace in the living room sparkled, and 24K Magic by Bruno Mars descended from the overhead speakers. He glanced up at one of the speakers and asked, “No jazz music? Wow, you have changed.”

“Something different,” Dawn said.

Jacob stopped near the spiral staircase and allowed Dawn to continue to the kitchen. He looked around for the stroller or Eve, relieved to find neither. Jacob wondered if, perhaps, Dawn had finally started to let go of her fixation with the doll.

“Can I get you a glass of wine?” Dawn asked.

“That would be great.”

Jacob unzipped his jacket and tossed it across the back of a loveseat before joining Dawn in her kitchen. Dawn opened a bottle of merlot and poured a glass, and handed it to Jacob. She then filled a second one for herself.

“Red?” Jacob asked. “Since when did you start drinking red wine?”

Dawn shrugged and said, “Recently. I can’t remember.”

Jacob raised his glass, and they clinked them together.

“I feel like it’s been forever since we’ve seen one another,” Dawn said. “So many texts and calls.”

“My schedule’s been crazy.”

Dawn led Jacob over to the living room and sat on the loveseat near the fireplace. She patted the empty seat beside her. Jacob stopped and looked around, inspecting the room.

“New pillows?” Jacob asked, pointing to the burgundy chenille throw pillows on the living room furniture. He sat beside Dawn. “Black leather. Red pillows. How devilish of you.”

“Like I said, I’ve been having fun with colors lately.”

“Have you been painting?”

“Yes.”

“Can I see?”

“No. Not yet. It’s not ready.” Dawn took another sip of wine. “I’m still not happy with it.” She glanced over at the darkened dining room and frowned. “So, tell me about this crazy schedule of yours.”

“My clients. And the bar, of course.”

“Of course.” Dawn bit her upper lip as she let her eyes settle on Jacob’s. “Have you taken on more clients?”

“A few. They seem to be scattered all over the city.” Jacob took a moment to study Dawn. Something felt different about her, and it wasn’t just the clothes and makeup. “So how about you? How’s therapy?”

“It’s okay. We talked about you a bit in my last session.”

“Well, I hope it was all good.” Jacob smiled a crooked grin. The smile faded as Dawn looked off toward the dining room. “Or not, I guess.”

“I told my therapist that you don’t like Eve.”

“It’s just a doll.”

“She’s more than that, Jacob.” Dawn slid closer and took Jacob by his hands. “You know she’s part of my therapy.”

“I know, Dawn. It’s just that, well, it’s been going on for two months now.” Jacob brushed his fingers through Dawn’s hair. He could see her eyes welling with tears. “Did the doctor say I should be more involved with the doll?”

“Um, now that you mention it, he didn’t. I told him I was worried that your rejection of Eve meant that you’d make a bad father.”

“A father?” Jacob felt the hairs on his arms tingle as memories of the birthday night argument flooded his mind. He stopped brushing Dawn’s hair and leaned back against the loveseat. “What did he say?”

“He sort of reminded me that a doll and a baby aren’t the same thing.”

“He’s got a point.” Jacob sighed, somewhat relieved to hear he and the doctor were on the same page. “You need to listen to him, Dawn. He’s the expert.”

“But Eve–”

“Is temporary. You know that, right?”

“I . . . I suppose.” Dawn lowered her head and looked away. “But when I’m with Eve, I know I’d make a good mother.” She looked at Jacob and added, “I am a good mother.”

Jacob shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he tried to process Dawn’s assertion. He wondered what her doctor thought of this behavior and if it was a normal part of her therapy.

“Did the doctor give you an end date?” Jacob asked.

“For therapy?”

“No. For the doll.”

“An end date for Eve?” Dawn looked up, her focus back on the darkened dining room in the far corner of the apartment. “No. No, I can’t even think of stopping. Not yet. She’s prepping me for when we can finally have an Evelyn of our own.”

Jacob was about to speak when the