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"You suggested the Verma Heights?" Ava frowns. "That is the slowest developing part of the city."
"That's what I told him,” she says.
"If Paulino had built there instead, he would have gentrified the entire neighborhood and made a few more people homeless," I suggest. "So sue me for having a heart."
Ava shares an incredulous look with Clara who shakes her head.
"And they call us the emotional ones. Lord save us all from egotistical idiot men."
Ava gags a little at that and for a second I think she's going to jump to my defense. But instead, she bursts into laughter.
"Scratch what I said earlier," she says. "I think I love you."
Clara smiles. The Fortress actually cracks a smile. The rest of the conversation flows easily and I watch semi-quietly as Ava turns on her charm. It's a sight to behold. It's like I don't know her, like she becomes someone else. At some point, a man standing behind them joins in the conversation and she perfectly divides attention equally between everyone so they all feel included.
She asks the right questions at the right time and has Clara laughing within an hour. And for the first time, I see why she was the top-selling agent at Clarkson. She's very easy to like and people inherently trust her. Maybe because she doesn't listen like someone who wants to sell you something. She listens as if she cares.
After a few minutes of watching in admiration, I leave them alone for a little bit to flag down one of the waiters for champagne. I grab a few glasses by the stem and that’s when I sense someone behind me.
“Hey baby,” comes the annoying trilling voice and slender arms wrap around my waist. I sigh deeply and take her arm off.
“Hello, Nina. How are you?”
“I’m good. But you look even better.”
Damn. I should have known she would be here, but then again, this is a good opportunity to get rid of her once and for all.
“I didn’t know you would come,” she says fluttering her eyelashes as she did. She’s wearing a short pink dress that barely covers anything important but it doesn’t even raise my interest a little.
“Well, I didn't want to, but my girlfriend insisted."
"Girlfriend?" Her face falls, and something dark tightens her expression.
"Yes. I'd love to talk but I have to get back to her. I'll see you around." I don't wait for an answer before heading back to Ava. She's standing alone once I get there.
“Hey,” she says smiling. The chandeliers glitter on her skin making her look like she’s shimmering. “Ready to go?”
I shake my head and put down the glasses on a stray table before holding out my hand. Without question she takes it. I lead her onto the dance floor and pull her close, swaying with the soft music. She clutches my shirt and says nothing as I let my nose caress the top of her hair inhaling the scent and letting the curls tickle my chin. She breathes and rests her cheek against my chest. And we both just stay in that moment.
I’d like to say I did it for the cameras or the publicity, but in truth, I forgot all about them. I forget about Arnaut Gautier and Nina and my mother. It's just me and Ava dancing like the world doesn't exist around us.
Chapter Eleven
Ava
Iwishthatonce,just once, I could catch a fucking break.
I think I’ve earned it at this point, by the motherlode. Just once, I would like things to go my way, exactly how I planned without life trying to test me with a curveball. Because I’m trying my hardest to roll with the punches and take the bull by the horns or whatever adage people say to get them through the day. I’ve accepted and moved on from the fact that my boss fired me unjustly, and now I have to play the role of Maddox Reign's play-toy to survive. I don’t have a problem with that anymore. I’ll accompany him to whatever galas he wants, take the scorn of my coworkers. Let them gossip about me and call me the whore of Babylon for all I care.
All good.
I can take it.
But no. That doesn’t seem to be enough for the universe. It's not satisfied until I’m completely broken down in pain. Until I have nothing left.
The gala was a week ago and I'm having a relatively good day. I’ve managed to close a few deals so far, and there're a lot of prospective ones on the horizon. I'm working hard on selling a family beach house just outside Santa Monica, when Maddox calls in.
"Do you know who the Nixons are?” he asks immediately after I pick up.
