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“What I’m saying is that sometimes you don’t get a choice in where life takes you. Take, for example, Adriana. She never expected to lose her husband and at such a young age. Then add to that grief, trying to raise a baby.”
Mom gives me a lot to think about. Always the realist, whereas Dad is the opposite. He creates the life he wants and doesn’t feed into the whole ‘life is where it takes you.’
“I know what you think because you and your father are so alike.” Mom breaks my thoughts, bringing the attention back onto her words. “Ava, you’ve been fortunate so far, and that’s not to say it won’t continue that way. But right now, you’re hitting some unfortunate bumps. You will get through this even if it feels like you can’t.”
“I know, Mom.” I take a deep breath, hop out of bed, straight to my closet, and pick an outfit for today. The spring weather is warm, warranting a sleeveless dress with a mini-jacket for when the cooler air sets in later in the day. “Listen, I should go. My publicist is driving me crazy, and I’m already late to his meeting.”
“How is your new publicist going?” Mom teases.
“Eric is a blessing and a curse. Professionally, he’s excellent. But, personally, he is driving me insane. If I could show you the photo dump of women with bangs he disapproves of in my phone, you’d be shocked.”
“Hmm, not really. You’d be surprised at what he continues to send me, given I am married. You would think I don’t need pictures of sweaty men at the gym. Half these men are young enough to be my son.”
I burst out laughing. “That’s our Eric.”
“Eric, no,” I argue while sitting in the white leather chair across from him. “I don’t need some guy on my arm if you think I must attend this event tonight.”
“Honey cakes, your beaver is looking sad and depressed. Everyone knows the best way to attract a man is by having another man on your arm.”
“Firstly, my beaver is fine. And who even uses that term anymore? That’s something an old person would say.”
“Excuse me. I don’t look a day over thirty-five.”
“Botox has been kind to you,” I drag, then fake a smile. “And to my second point, I will attend alone if I must go.”
Eric lets out an annoyed huff, pursing his lips while eyeing me dubiously.
“Will you do all of us a favor and call off the I-don’t-need-a man act? You’re screaming for a good bang-bang up your coochie. Maybe even the back door. That’s if you’re even adventurous enough to taste a bit of chocolate over vanilla.”
Wrinkling my nose, I keep my lips firmly shut, disgusted he used the words back door and chocolate in the same sentence. But as always, Eric has got me thinking. Okay, so I haven’t gotten laid recently and only because it hasn’t even crossed my mind. The last time I was intimate with a man was New Year’s Eve, a secret I still carry to this day. On occasion, to clear my conscience, I think about telling Eric but know I must take that one to the grave. I can’t afford a leak to Amelia.
“Both doors are just fine,” I rush, steering the conversation back to what we were initially discussing. “Now, about tonight, dress code?”
Just before Eric speaks, my phone vibrates in my hand as my father’s caller ID appears. I excuse myself to take the call, moving toward the window.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Ava,” he simply greets, his tone void of any emotion. “Returning your numerous calls.”
“Look, I know you’re angry at me. I’m angry at myself for trusting Olivier. And I just want to say I appreciate you stepping in. I know you threw a lot of money to have those photos removed…” I trail off, aware of the silence coming from his end.
“I have a meeting I need to get to.”
“Uh… sure,” I mumble, unable to shake the guilt riddling me. “Dad, I love you.”
A long, low sigh filters through the speaker. “I love you too, Ava. I’ll call you tonight.”
We hang up the phone, but even after his sentiment, it doesn’t erase the pain and suffering I’ve put him through. I try my best to suppress the thoughts, yet the more I try, the more my stomach churns from the stress of it all. Dad never asks for much from me, but I know this is something he won’t quickly move on from.
“No luck with Lex?”
I turn to face Eric, shrugging my shoulders. “I guess he needs to cool down.”
“Of course he needs time to cool down.” Eric throws his hands up in the air, all dramatic as usual. “We are talking about THE great Lex Edwards. Once, when you were like three and in some playground, a boy pushed you over, and Lex got into a fight with the mother. The poor woman left in tears.”
“Oh… how horrible.”
“Look, in Lex’s defense, the woman was too busy trying to flirt with another dad who clearly had a wedding ring on. But listen, don’t get hung up on him. We have a fabulous event to attend tonight, and you’re hot property.”
