Frisk Me(92)

Beth’s mouth dropped open.

Ava understood the sentiment. Half the time her mouth still dropped open when she had the thought. But it was true. She’d been chasing the dream for so long that she’d lost sight of why she wanted the dream. And now that it was in sight…

“I don’t want to be a talking head, B,” she said.

“Well okay…I can’t say I’m going to argue. But why the change? It’d better not be because of a guy. We are so not those girls.”

“It’s not because of Luc,” Ava said softly, watching the bubbles sneak up the side of her champagne flute. “He was the catalyst, perhaps, but not the reason.”

“Not now,” Beth snapped at one of her other bridesmaids before pulling Ava farther toward the corner of the room. “Candice! I said not now!”

“You’re such a delicate bride,” Ava murmured.

“I’m a hungry bride,” Beth grumbled. “I had carrot juice for breakfast. I didn’t even know that was a thing. But don’t try to distract me. What changed?”

Ava shrugged. “The anchorwoman job just sounds…awful. The early morning, the constant need to look perfect. The high heels, all the sitting.”

“Okay, I’m with you there,” Beth agreed. “I’ve always thought it sounded like a wretched gig. I mean thousands, no millions, of people actually get to watch individual wrinkles develop in high definition. But that’s not what I’m asking. Last month you were all about it. This month, you’re not?”

Ava took a sip of her drink. Wasn’t that just the question of the day?

Year.

Decade.

“I don’t know,” Ava said finally. “I think I realized that I wanted the prestige of it all.”

Beth nodded. “I get it. And you wanted to show your Grade-A * of a father that you could do it without all of his string-pulling and mighty influence.”

Ava choked out a little laugh. “Shouldn’t I be lying on a couch for this sort of analysis, doc?”

“Well, it’s true, isn’t it? I’ve always wondered if your career ambitions weren’t born out of stubbornness more than actual interest.”

“Thanks for telling me,” Ava muttered. “You could have saved me a couple years.”

“Eh. It’s a sunk cost,” Beth said with a wave. “Move on.”

“From therapist to economist just like that,” Ava said with a snap of her fingers. “What’s next?”

Beth folded her arms. “Next? Best friend. What caused the epiphany, Ava?”

Ava forced herself to meet her friend’s eyes. “He did. And no,” she said, holding up a hand when Beth’s freckled face started to go irate. “I didn’t give up my career for a man, so don’t go all woman-hear-me-roar on my ass. I’m trying to tell you that for the first time in a long time, something mattered to me more than proving my dad wrong, more than sitting behind that desk.”

“And that thing is…Luc Moretti.”

“Yeah,” Ava replied quietly. “I want Luc more than I wanted the job. Which in turn got me thinking about why I wanted the job in the first place, and I realized…I didn’t.”

Beth’s shoulders slumped. “Love. It’s a bitch, huh?”

“Totally.”

“Do you need money?”

“No,” Ava said, grabbing her friend’s hands. “No, I actually got another job. Actually, it was Luc’s sister who provided the introduction. Starting in two weeks I’ll be employed by the Times.”

“As in the New York Times?” Beth asked, face confused.

“Yup.”

“Newspaper? Print journalism? Isn’t that…a change?”

Ava shrugged. “Yep. But it’ll allow me to do what I’ve always done best. Tell stories. And if I want to tell them while wearing no bra and yoga pants, they won’t care.”

“Can you even write?”

“Ye have little faith, friend. Yes, I can write. I’ve always written all my stories out before I turn them in to be truncated for TV media. I gave them some samples, and…they hired me.”

“Does this mean your and Mihail’s weird relationship is on the skids?”

Ava felt a little wave of sadness. “Yeah. He’s happy for me, but he belongs behind the camera. And not the point-and-shoot kind. We’ll still be friends, though.”

The tailor hovered, and Beth held up a commanding bridal finger. One more minute.

“Ava.” Beth’s voice went uncharacteristically soft, quiet. “Are you going to fight for him?”

Abruptly Ava felt the now familiar lump in her throat. “I don’t know how, Beth. I told him I love him and he all but kicked me out. Is it possible to get much more vulnerable?”

“Maybe he’ll come to you. Maybe he just needs time.”

“Yeah,” Ava said, forcing a smile. “Maybe.”

But she didn’t believe it for a second.





CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN



Luc, you’re being an ass, you know.”

Yeah, I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.

Luc rolled his shoulders restlessly against the way his uniform chafed uncomfortably against his skin in the hot, crowded diner. “This coming from you?”