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“Sounds fair enough,” she said.
“What kind of work did you bring home?”
“Some redesigns. This week we were presenting ideas to multiple companies about advertising and websites for rebranding purposes. I had about half my projects kicked back.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be. That’s actually a good week. The rule in the advertising world is that if you get it right on the first try, then your client doesn’t really know what they want.”
“Well, then congratulations on the kickback,” I said. I lifted my glass in the air and we toasted to her weekend full of work.
“What about you?” she asked.
“What about me?”
“What kind of work do you usually take home?”
“Not the kind I can freely talk about.”
“Don’t worry. I’m clad with NDAs as well. So, just generals, no specifics,” she said.
“I’m so happy you understand that.”
“Well, I do. So, there you go.”
“In that case, the work I bring home is usually research related. Once I do all the prep work for my cases, about sixty percent of my job is completed. Until then, it chisels away at my free time.”
“Makes sense. I do research for my jobs, but the bulk of my time is spent redesigning when I need to.”
“And it fits your field as well as the job you have.”
“Do you think there will come a day when you don’t take so much work home?” she asked.
My eyes connected with hers, and a warmth dropped over me. She was fully focused on me, which was something I hadn’t experienced with any woman in a long time. Our food was set in front of us, and I expected Ava to turn her eyes downward and begin eating, but she didn’t. Her gaze and attention stayed on me.
She was such a rare treasure, and I wasn’t ready to give her up.
“Yeah. There will come a day when I won’t at all, yes. At least not on the weekends. There isn’t much I can do about the weekdays, especially when cases are deemed urgent. But the weekends? Yes. I have a plan to reclaim them within the next year or so,” I said.
“That’s good. I’m not sure if I’ll ever reclaim mine, but I’ll figure it out along the way,” Ava said.
“I’m sure you will. I have no doubt about it.”
We began to pick at the food in silence, and I could tell something was on her mind. The second her eyes pulled away from me, her vision clouded. A thunderstorm hung over her head. It was as if I had been a distraction from her mind, and the second I was out of her vision, reality bombarded her.
“Ava?”
“Hmm?” she asked.
“Are you all right?”
She chewed slowly before she swallowed and nodded her head.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”
“You don’t look okay,” I said.
“Are you telling me I’m ugly?” she asked playfully.
“Never in a million years could I ever think that about you.” I could tell my words had disarmed her, and in a flash tears rose in her eyes. “What is it?” I asked.
“Nothing. It’s silly.”
“It’s never silly if it’s bringing on such strong emotions. What’s going on?”
I reached out for her hand, and she slipped her fingers against my palm.
“Your words are really kind,” she said.
“Well, that’s not what’s bothering you.”
“It’s nothing. I swear.”
“Ava, talk to me.”
“I don’t really want to talk about it. It’s just—I look at you and I think about Camilla and a conversation I had with her.”
“So you’ve talked to her.”
“Yeah.”
“How did that go?”
Ava’s face fell, and she hooked her eyes on mine while her tears slowly dried.
“That good, huh?” I asked, grinning.
“Let’s just say she’s not the person I thought she was—at all.”
I furrowed my brow at her statement before she squeezed my hand and pulled away.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“She’s just not who I thought she was.”
“How so?”
“You know how you paint someone in one light, and then it turns out you painted them in that light because it was a light you cast? Not a light they cast?” she asked.
“What did she say to you, Ava?”
“I don’t want to talk about her right now. We’re having such a good time, and I enjoy being with you. It’s in the past. There isn’t anything we can do about it, and as time passes, it’ll pass as well,” she said.
“I want to be here for you. If there’s something bothering you, I want to help you through it.”
Her eyes welled with tears again, and it broke my heart.
“You’re such a good man,” she whispered.
“I try to be,” I said. But try as I might to get her to open up to me, she didn’t.
“Anyway, sorry. Um, what were we talking about?” Ava asked. She dabbed at her tears with her napkin, and I abandoned the tug-of-war.
“Anything and everything,” I said.
“Good. That’s a good topic. I like talking about us, about you,” she said.
