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“Sure. What’s the number?” I grab my phone out of the center console. “The bluetooth will pick it up.”
“Oh . . . okay. It’s 646-543-2198.” The call connects, ringing echoes through the cab, and is answered on the third ring.
“Hello?” The voice is anxious.
“Hey, Emma, it’s me.” Ava’s voice is nervous, but upbeat. She’s faking this call.
“Oh my God, Av, where are you? Cora and I have been worried sick. All your note said was ‘Heading out . . . see you later.’ Do you know what time it is? We’re supposed to leave for the airport in twenty minutes. Why don’t you have your phone on you? And where are you calling me from. I don’t recognize this number.”
I understand why she’s worried—Ava’s been gone for hours—but the way she’s firing these questions, I grit my teeth together. She’s had a bad enough day already and being badgered by her friend suddenly rubs me the wrong way.
“Listen, I’m not gonna head back with you guys tonight. I’ll catch up with you later in the week.” Ava lets out a sigh.
I sneak a peek at her; Ava’s fingers are moving a mile a minute on her leg. It’s obvious I’m listening to their conversation, but I’m trying to show indifference. Maybe I should have disconnected the bluetooth and let her take this privately.
“What are you talking about? I don’t understand. Where are you?” The pitch in Emma’s voice rises.
“At the moment, heading back to the house.” Ava glances over at me before she looks back out the window. She looks tired.
“Well, hurry up! We’ll wait for you.” Irritation and impatience leak through in her words and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“No, don’t, I need to stay here for a few days,” she says firmly.
“Av! You aren’t making any sense. Why do you need to stay here? We have stuff to take care of . . .” I look over at Ava as she leans forward and rests her forehead on her good hand. Her eyes are closed and that’s when I see the first tear roll down her face. My heart instantly cracks down the middle at her distress.
Shit. I wasn’t expecting her to cry during this call. It’s stressing her out and I hate this. I want to hang up on Emma. I want to pull over and hug her. I want to make this entire situation go away.
“Hello! Are you still there?” Emma asks. My hands tighten on the steering wheel.
“Yeah, I’m here, sorry. Listen, don’t flip out, okay?” Ava sits back and runs her good hand over her face to wipe away the tears. Her eyes are swollen and her nose is red, and I can’t help but think she’s still so freaking beautiful.
“You’re scaring me.” In the background, I hear Cora ask what’s going on.
“I’m on my way back to the house from the urgent care . . . I fell and broke my wrist.” She rushes the words and then dead silence fills the truck as more tears leak down her lovely face. These tears aren’t tears of physical pain—this is something else, and my stomach clenches.
“Please tell me you’re kidding . . . you’re not kidding, are you?” Ava doesn’t say anything, she just shakes her head no.
“Av, I’m about to have an all-out panic attack! What happened?” Cora says something again from the background and Emma shushes her.
“I tripped and fell while running.”
She just lied to her friends and I don’t understand why. I mean, Whiskey chases—it’s his thing—I guess I just don’t understand why she can’t tell them that. Maybe it has more to do with explaining the panic attack, not that it’s any of their business. I don’t know.
“Holy crap, Av! I’m staying here with you.” Speaking of panic, Emma is all but screaming and Ava winces from the volume.
“No, please don’t. Please take that meeting for us. I have to follow up with the orthopedic tomorrow and then I’ll head back to the city.”
This is keeping her from her job. Guilt floods me, and I hope she doesn’t get into trouble.
“Oh my God, no! You need to see a specialist in the city, not some country quack!” Ava looks down at her wrapped arm and runs her fingers back and forth across the bandage.
“Maybe you’re right,” she mumbles.
“Of course I’m right. If it doesn’t heal properly . . . oh, I think I’m going to be sick.”
I’m confused and my vision tints a little red with anger. I understand worrying about your friend when they get hurt, but why is she acting like this affects her too? Emma didn’t break something, Ava did, and she needs to calm down.
“Hey, it’s going to be fine. It’s just a crack. Look, I know you’re upset and I’m really sorry, but I can’t deal with this right now, I’m just—”
