Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Ava had survived the cooking class the week before; now she had to survive this walk. Beside her, Emily Knox added a little bounce to every step she took, her brunette curls bouncing in sync with her skort.
Sure, Ava’s ego had been stung when she realized that Zach still held a grudge against her for her review of his restaurant. But she figured she should give him a second chance. It had been a pretty bad situation. And yeah, she could see how he would blame her for the loss of his restaurant.
A week’s perspective had helped her attitude. That and the good news she’d found in her email inbox the day before.
“My Realtor emailed me photos of a house on Jonathon Island in my price range.” Ava pumped her arms in time with her legs as she power walked through her neighborhood.
Tall apartment buildings rose up around them, making the street feel cramped and dark.
Right now, in mid-May, she could still smell fresh air, but in the heat of the coming summer, the car exhaust would make walks like this less bearable.
“I have them on my phone if you want to see them.”
“Don’t think that I will allow that as an excuse to cut this walk short.” Emily shook her head. “You always want to quit early. I’m not falling for it this time. Besides, we’re almost to Singing the Brews. You can show me over a nonfat latte.”
“Nonfat? Why do you think I’m working so hard at seven in the morning? Give me full fat anytime.” Ava had been lucky to find Emily at work the first week in her new job. The two even lived in the same neighborhood. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into doing these power walks every morning.”
“It’s because you know you aren’t getting any younger and you refuse to drink nonfat lattes.” Emily tossed a smile over her shoulder as she sped forward a few paces.
“Fair.” Ava increased her speed to match her friend’s. A few minutes later, they entered the neighborhood coffee shop.
The morning sun had crested the tall buildings across the street in the time it took for them to step back out with their lattes.
“Should we sit at our regular table?” Ava gestured to the wrought iron bistro-style table at the end of the row.
Early flowers bobbed in the planter box, marking the edge of Singing the Brews’s property.
The chair cooled Ava’s heated muscles as she sat.
She cupped her hands around her iced coffee, cooling her further.
She set her drink aside and pulled out her phone.
After swiping it open, she navigated to the email app.
The email full of photos from Mia Franklin rested at the top.
“Look at this beauty. It even has a picket fence.” She made the pictures full-size and held her phone out to Emily. “Swipe left to see them all.”
Emily took the phone. “Oh, I see what you mean. Adorable.”
“It’s so much better than the drab apartment I live in now.
I’ve been adding to the money Grandma set aside for me after Grandpa died.
There’s finally enough for a down payment.
Especially if I get a small house like this one.
” Ava scooted her chair around until she sat shoulder to shoulder with Emily.
Ava had memorized the twelve photos Mia had attached to the email.
Four photos of the exterior of the small bungalow nestled in the older part of Jonathon Island, on Zinnia Boulevard.
Six photos of the interior of the home, including the two bedrooms, avocado-green kitchen, and a Pepto-Bismol-pink bathroom.
The final two photos were of downtown Jonathon Island. The cobblestone streets, lined with clapboard buildings sporting cheery awnings and other bunting, invited her to come explore.
“Yeesh. That bathroom is a little scary.” Emily grimaced.
“Yeah, it’ll take some updating, that’s for sure.
Mia said the family who lived there have been there for many years, but all the kids moved away.
The woman who owned it just passed away, and her kids don’t want it anymore.
” Ava cupped her chin in her hand and rested her elbow on the table.
“I can’t wait to see it in person. I’ll be putting in my offer when I’m there later this week. ”
“Remind me why you want to move to a remote island in the middle of nowhere?” Emily handed the phone back.
Ava gave her friend a light swat on the upper arm.
“It’s not that remote. It’s a busy tourist area.
Just because you have to take a ferry to get there doesn’t make it the middle of nowhere.
I went there once with my parents.” A light breeze brought the scent of lilacs from a bush at the corner of the block.
“It was a rare family trip. I don’t know.
I just kind of fell in love with the place.
The charm, the sense of community…Nowhere else seems to measure up.
And now that my grandma keeps threatening to move to Arizona, there’s not much tying me to Chicago. ”
“Fine. I’m sure it’s amazing. I don’t see why you have to move away from me.” Emily stuck out her bottom lip and made puppy dog eyes at her.
“Ha. May I remind you that you are moving away from me? You started it.”
“Might be moving away. I might be.” Emily held up her right hand, second and third fingers crossed. “My last interview with the Los Angeles Journal is next week.”
“It’s going to be a slam dunk. You already know they want you. They wouldn’t have contacted you if they didn’t. Plus, it helps to have your old editor on staff.” Ava stuffed her phone back into her pocket. “I’m going to miss seeing you when I walk past the sports desk.”
“You’ll just have to come visit me. Maybe on one of your trips jet-setting around the world, tasting food for money.”
Ava laughed. “If I make it freelancing, I’ll definitely add Los Angeles to the list at least once a year.” She took a long pull of her coffee. The sweet creaminess canceled out the bitterness of the thoughts racing through her mind. What if I can’t hack it? Her future hung in the balance.
It was a lot to hang on one week’s worth of articles.
“Maybe while you’re at Jonathon Island, you’ll meet the perfect man.” Emily saluted her with her cup. “It certainly sounds like a place straight out of Hallmark.”
“Eh. You know I’ve given up on men.” She rolled her shoulders.
“Please. One rotten dude should not put you off all of them. Elias is not someone you should base your opinion of men on.” A car passed by on the street, its muffler loudly throwing out exhaust. “Elias Kemp is a terrible person. His name even sounds like a villain from an 1880s penny dreadful.”
“I thought Elias was the one. Who dates someone for years only to dump them for no reason?” She crumpled up a napkin, the fibers rough under her fingers.
“A rotten person.” Emily speared her with a look.
She sighed. “I can see now that he was just stringing me along. Using me. I shouldn’t have been surprised when he left.” After all, wasn’t that what her parents did too? She should stop relying on people to stay. “No more men for me.”
“Fine. I get it.” Emily held both hands in the air, palms out. “New topic. How was the cooking class?” She sat back in her chair. “Learn anything good?”
Ava’s face grew hot. “I know you think it’s silly that it bothers me so much, but there’s something so dishonest to me about criticizing other people’s work for something I never learned to do myself.”
“I don’t think it’s silly. You have integrity. I admire that.” Emily uncapped her cup and shook a few pieces of ice into her mouth.
“It went okay. I learned how to use a knife.” Zach’s arrogance flashed through her mind.
“Isn’t that pretty standard for becoming an adult?”
“I guess I missed that lesson because I had a hard time mastering the skill.” Her face felt as though it would light a forest on fire. “You’ll never guess who was there.”
“Judging by how red you are, I’m going with Brad Pitt.” Emily grinned.
“I think you’re the one who will be running into Brad Pitt.” Ava raised her cup to her cheek, the icy dregs of her coffee cooling her face. “Zachary Sullivan was leading the class.”
“Am I supposed to know who that is?”
Ava let out a long breath. “No. I guess not. I try not to talk about it.”
Emily rolled her hand in the air. “Come on. Tell me now.”
“Okay, but I might need another latte first.”
“Cut it out. Give me the tea. Spill the beans. Need more foodie humor?”
Ava held up her hands. “No. Please. My first time writing my Ava Harper Chows Down column was in Seattle.”
“That was when you were at the Courier?”
Ava nodded. “Yep. I was assigned to a new restaurant, Peach. Turns out it was Chef Sullivan’s baby. It was his first solo place.”
Emily leaned forward. “And it was this chef that was at your class last week?”
“He was leading it.”
Emily held up a hand. “Wait. Let me guess.” She closed her eyes.
“You wrote him a glowing review, causing him to fall madly in love with you and beg you to meet him at the top of the Space Needle on New Year’s Eve, but you couldn’t go because you’d broken your leg in a car accident? ” Her eyes popped open.
“Good guess, points for the movie reference, but you’re way off.” A strain of music filtered out from the coffee shop. The music group Miss Dahlia and Ariel sang about God bringing them to their destiny the long way. “The newspaper printed a bad review of his place.”
“What didn’t you like about the food?” Emily leaned in.
“That’s kind of the problem. I actually did like the food. It was delicious.” She could still taste the beef ragu in her dreams. “I briefly saw Chef Sullivan talking to another customer and thought he was arrogant, still do, by the way, much too pretty for his own good, but the food was amazing.”
“So why the bad review?”