Every Kind of Heaven. Jillian Hart
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Then again, Ava might not have noticed. His business partner, Rafe, had handled the contracts and the scheduling, and was supervising this project.
Brice hit the speed dial on his cell and waited for it to connect. He’d see if Rafe wouldn’t mind switching jobs. Being around Ava every working day for the next two weeks sounded like a good idea. No, a brilliant idea, considering how much he wanted to get to know her.
How would she take it? He was definitely anxious to see the look on her face when he walked into her shop bright and early Monday morning. What would happen then? Only God knew.
One thing was for sure, it was going to be a whole lot of fun to find out.
“Good news!” Ava announced as she sailed through the front door of their apartment. “Mrs. Carnahan loved the cake. She said her little grandson was going to be so happy. And your idea about adding bonus party favors at no charge—it was brilliant. She loved the little rocks I made.”
Her twin, Aubrey poked her head out of the kitchen. “What did I tell you?”
“I know, you’re always right. I don’t deny it.” Ava rolled her eyes, shut the door with her foot and dropped her purse, gym bag and keys on the floor. “Instead of takeout burgers, I splurged and got Thai. Cashew chicken, stir-fried rice and that noodle dish you love.”
“Well done.” Aubrey’s smile turned full-fledged as she reached for the big takeout sack. “Hurry up, get changed. I’ll get us all set up.”
“I’m late, I know. But it was an excellent day despite it all. Who knew?” Ava took off for her bedroom, a total disaster. One day when she got enough time, it would be the epitome of orderliness. But since she wasn’t sure when that would be, she had to go with the flow.
Knowing Aubrey was waiting, she tossed her clothes on the floor, kicked her sandals toward the closet and dug around in the laundry basket of clean clothes for her favorite sweatpants and T-shirt. After she found her fuzziest socks, she flew down the little hall.
Aubrey was in the living room setting two heaping plates of food onto two TV trays facing the widescreen TV they couldn’t afford but got anyway. Not smart, and her poor credit card was bent from the weight of debt, but it was nice to watch Clark Gable in forty-two-inch glory.
“If you would have remembered to call before I hit the video store, you would have had some say in tonight’s movie,” Aubrey said as she settled down on the couch.
“Hey, the cell waves work both ways. You could have called me.”
“I’m always calling you.” Aubrey reached for her napkin and shook it open over her lap. “So, I take it the Donovan cake delivery went well this morning. You haven’t mentioned the groom. What happened with that?”
“Oh, that’s a disaster. Total doom. You know me.” While she’d told her sister about insulting Brice Donovan, she hadn’t given her the day’s full update.
“Men.” Aubrey shook her head, disapproving. “And to think Chloe’s groom, Mark Upton, is supposed to be like last year’s most eligible bachelor. Philanthropic. An upstanding Christian. I guess it just shows, you never know about some men. They show one face when they really have another.”
“Well, now, that’s not exactly the case.” Ava slipped behind the TV tray and plopped onto the couch. “Whew, I’m starved. Your turn to say the blessing.”
“What happened? Are you telling me that he showed up this morning at the country club and apologized? Or no, there was a mix up. He didn’t proposition you, did he? You jumped to conclusions like you always do and accused him of it. Right? When it wasn’t true?”
“You’re partly right. I was asked out to coffee, sure, but it wasn’t by Mr. Upland. I thought it was, but you know me, like I can remember everyone I’ve ever met.”
“We went to school with Mark Upton. Don’t you remember?”
“I was busy in high school. How was I supposed to know everyone? Besides, I don’t recognize a lot of people. I’m not good with faces.”
“Or names.”
“Or names.” How could she argue with that? She wanted to keep things light and funny, that’s the way she felt comfortable with everything. Anything serious or painful, well, that made her feel way too much. And once you started really feeling, then you had to face all the other emotions you were trying to avoid.
Avoidance was a very good policy. At least, she was doing fine avoiding the things that hurt the most. Take today. She didn’t have to think about the fact that Brice Donovan might think she was a disaster, too, but he wanted to order a cake. She’d concentrate on the cake part, and try hard not to think about anything else.
Not that she was having the greatest luck with that.
“So what really happened?” Aubrey asked, taking possession of the remote before Ava could grab it and divert her with the movie. “It’s okay. You can tell me. It isn’t as bad as you think. Really.”
Easy for Aubrey, who thought things through before she opened her mouth. Aubrey who never made a mistake of any kind, who never embarrassed herself, who never locked her keys in the car.
Remembering how Brice Donovan’s voice had sounded, kind and not belittling, made the yuck of her morning fade a few shades.
“I’ll tell you after the movie.” Ava shrugged. Some things she didn’t even want to talk about, even with her twin. That wasn’t the way it was supposed to be, and she knew it made Aubrey sad to be shut out like that, but she didn’t want to share every detail.
She wanted to do things right for a change—not just try really hard and then fail, but to really stay focused and careful and committed. One day, maybe she could be the girl who didn’t make a mess, who didn’t insult Bozeman’s most eligible bachelor or who frustrated people so much they simply left her for good.
As Aubrey bowed her head, beginning the blessing, Ava bowed her head, too. But she added a silent prayer to Aubrey’s. Show me the way, Lord. Please, I don’t want to mess up anymore. Show me how to be different. Better.
There was no answer, just the click of the remote as Aubrey hit a button. The TV flared to life, showing a classic movie with a silver-screen hero. Maybe if she met a man like that, she might make an exception to her no-man policy.
She grabbed her fork and dug into the cashew chicken, but did she pay attention to the movie? No. Who was she thinking about?
Brice Donovan and how he’d looked like a real gentleman in his tux. How he’d looked like one of her forgotten dreams when he’d been standing in the full brightness of the morning sun, looking as vibrant and as substantial as a legend come true. But it was just a trick of the light. Legends didn’t exist in real life, and real love didn’t happen to her.
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