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Though I had seen her dolled up, the most beautiful Ava ever looks to me is when she leaves her curly hair down and no make-up on.
She stopped short in front of me. “What is it?” she asks.
“Nothing,” I say, caught staring. But I find I don’t care. “Let me help you with that.”
I take the garment bags in her hand and lead us down to where the SUV is parked. Last night Maxwell stopped by and exchanged this damaged vehicle with a replacement. We reach the end of the block in our newly customary silence, and I do my security checks while Ava stands next to me.
Satisfied that everything looks good with the SUV, I open the passenger door and Ava hesitates.
“Actually, I think I’d like to sit in the back.”
I am struck dumb at her statement, and the open passenger door is mocking me. Now she couldn’t even stand to sit next to me.
“Ava, you don’t have to?—”
“I prefer to sit in the back. If that’s not a problem,” she says, breaking eye contact with me.
I close the passenger door a little too forcefully.
“No, whatever you want.” I open the back door, depositing the garment bags on the backseat and then taking the bags in her arms.
Once I see her click the seatbelt into place, I make my way around to the driver’s side and we head off towards the studio where Ava will be taking photos for her book cover.
At this time of morning, traffic is already crawling at a slow pace. I start reaching for the radio because the silence is bothering me, but before I touch the screen, I hear Ava’s voice from the back.
“Hi, Wells wishers! I know it’s been a few days, and I just wanted to hop on live and let you guys know how I’m doing, and I haven’t forgotten about you?—”
I confirm the light is still red before reaching behind me and snatching the phone from Ava’s hand. I shut off the livestream and place her phone in the cupholder before driving off when the light switches to green.
“I can’t believe you just did that!”
“Really, Ava? What are you thinking going live while we’re in the middle of driving around Manhattan?”
“Part of what I do is to make sure I keep up with my followers. I can’t just go MIA because of the stalking thing.”
I shake my head, chance a glance in the rearview mirror, and see her crossing her arms again.
“I get that,” I begin to say because I do. Though I’m not one for any social media, I understand it’s part of Ava’s livelihood.
“Do you?” she asks sarcastically.
“Yes, but you can’t just start recording while you’re moving around the city. You could easily get a street sign in the background. The tint is not dark on this SUV. God only knows the people after you could figure out exactly where you’re located if they’re not already following you now. You’ve got to take extra precautions. No more pictures with any landmarks in the background or anything signifying where you’re located. And definitely no location penned on your post.”
I checked the GPS. We’re another ten minutes away from the studio.
“All right,” Ava says. “Understood. Another thing taken away from me, all because of some stalker.”
I glance into the mirror again and see Ava with her head in her hands. I want to go back and comfort her. And I’m not a guy who usually feels the need to comfort anyone. But I couldn’t stand to see Ava sad.
But if upsetting meant her saving her life, I’d do it every time.
We arrive at the Hudson Photography Studios. I return Ava’s phone once we’ve retrieved all her stuff from the back and are heading into the building.
She no longer places her hand on the crook of my arm, now requiring complete distance from me.
I try to pretend like it doesn’t bother me, but it does. But I still keep close to her and match my strides to hers.
A young man sits at the front desk and asks us to sign in. Ava begins writing down both of our names, and I see Sierra was the last person to sign in. Above her are the photographer’s and their assistant’s name.
