Chapter 12 Ava
AVA
“Could I get Ms. Hale to make me my mocha, please?” asked a southeast Asian man in a shiny black jacket, walking up to the head of the line.
I took a quick look over my shoulder as I herded the coffee machine technician to the café, recognizing the man in the shiny jacket as a regular.
He looked like he was in his mid-twenties, had an olive skin tone, and expressive brown eyes.
He had a lean build, carrying himself with confidence, and wore a jacket with gold stripes down the sides.
In the past, he’d always had a friendly smile for me whenever we interacted.
“She’s busy at the moment, my dear,” Carolyn said, putting her glasses back on and squinting at the man while I waved my apology and turned to the technician. “You’ll have to put up with my mocha, though I did get Ava to show me how she made them, so perhaps it’ll be more to your liking this time.”
The man looked like he wanted to reconsider having a mocha at all but nodded politely at Carolyn.
“It’s this machine,” I said as the lanky technician looked at the machine doubtfully. I seriously hoped this wasn’t his first gig at fixing things. I was this close to losing my meeting with Desmond if we were going to be here late.
“I could give it a try,” he began hesitantly. “Let me grab my toolbox. I’ll be right back.”
He disappeared back out the doors of the lobby just as I checked the time and tapped my foot.
Carolyn called out, “Mocha’s here,” and slid the coffee cup on the counter.
The man in the shiny jacket waved to us as he grabbed his cup and walked away.
Carolyn turned to me and tapped her watch. “You take your break,” she said, shepherding me away from the counter and to the wall where my coat and purse hung.
“Are you sure?” I asked, picking up my purse and looking unsure.
The technician would have a ton of questions, I’d bet.
“I’ll take care of the technician now, and the customers will just have to wait a little longer for their coffee—that’s all.” She nodded, shooing me out. “Besides, two of our departments are out, attending conferences, so we don’t have a crowd like we usually do.”
So, a little before noon, I slipped out of the building lobby, my cardboard box in hand. Returning the clothes was going to be uncomfortable, but it needed to be done.
I walked out onto the footpath, looking around before I walked down the block, waiting for a call from Desmond.
Cars drove by with the nonstop urgency that only New York drivers could claim, other folks walked past on their way to the subway station or the parking lot, and lines of people grew outside popular delis down the street.
Still no sign of Desmond.
My phone beeped.
Desmond: I see you. Stop by the magnolia at the end of the curb, and we’ll pick you up.
I saw the tree in the distance, but before I could briskly walk up to it, a sleek black Bentley slid to a stop next to me. I blinked twice before the window rolled down in the back seat, and I saw Desmond grinning at me. That expression changed when he saw the box in my hands.
“No way. You are not returning that, Ava.”
“Des—” I bit my tongue. “Mr. McKinley,” I began again, still standing on the curb while he stared back at me from the car, his jaw set.
“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.
I do have winter coats of my own.” I gestured to the one I was wearing.
A coral-colored thermal jacket that I’d owned for almost five years now.
It was still in good shape, and I hadn’t had the heart to throw it away.
He got out of the car and reached for my fingers. Clasping them for a second, he let go and said, “Your fingers tell a different story, Ava. The one you’re wearing isn’t doing you any good. Please, keep this.”
I wanted to argue some more, but Desmond added, “I’m not giving up this time, Ava.
I’m going to argue with you for hours, if needed.
But I do know that the longer we stand out here, arguing, the later we’re going to be when we get to the lawyer’s offices.
And I know how much you dislike being late. ”
I stared at him, fighting a battle between wanting to return his gifts and also wanting to get to the lawyer’s on time. This was my only chance at getting some closure on the man who had swindled from Mom’s restaurant.
My shoulders sank. “Okay,” I said finally. “I’d like to get to the lawyer’s office on time, please.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Thank heavens for that,” he said.
I got into the car, box and all. He walked around and got in next to me.
“So, you’re still the punctual woman I remember you being,” he said when he shut his door and the car moved along. “And I’m still terrible at arriving on time.”
I remembered that little detail about him. “Among other things,” I said before I could help myself.
He raised an eyebrow. “What other things am I terrible at?” he asked just as I bit my lip.
I shook my head as I reached for my seat belt, clicking it into place. “Please forget I said that.”
“You can be honest,” he insisted.
“Hey, I’m not the one with the power to kill a hundred dreams with the snap of my fingers.”
He groaned. “Yes, that’s what I do on the nineteenth floor at work. Snap fingers.”
I grinned. Being here with Desmond, jesting like we used to back when we were younger, almost made me forget he had left me.
I’d bet he had forgotten too. I ought to be frosty with him, considering how abruptly he’d disappeared from my life.
Considering how that breakup had ruined me for months.
But now that he was helping me set Mom’s restaurant right and trying to make sure I stayed warm outdoors, I was conflicted.
I couldn’t be angry, not with all these reminders of what had made him a great friend in the first place.
“Thanks for the coats. They’re beautiful.”
He accepted that with a small nod.
“And thanks for the ride too,” I said, gesturing to the car.
It would have been a one-hour ride in the subway, which would have meant skipping lunch. And I didn’t want to spend whatever I made on tips on a taxi ride across town. I was saving that stash for Gabriela’s birthday gift.
I looked around the car. The interior was sleek and leather-padded. The car had a fresh, new smell about it, and the polished metal details gleamed.
Desmond grinned. “You’re welcome.” He angled his body toward mine, his seat belt straining as he did so. “But I’m serious about getting you to spill the beans on what other things I’m terrible at.”
“Or else you’ll break my fingers?” I joked.
He nodded gravely. “Yes, my two skills, Ava. Snapping fingers and breaking them. It’s what helped me graduate to the nineteenth floor.”
I grinned. “Let’s see. I would add attending social events to that list,” I added, and he raised his eyebrows.
He shook his head decidedly. “Was,” he corrected. “I was terrible at it. Not anymore.”
I laughed. “You once toppled the entire bowl of punch at Raylee’s birthday party, remember?”
He chuckled and turned to look out the window just as the car slowed to a stop. “And then I hid in her bathroom for the rest of the party with that kid who was throwing up nonstop.”
I unbuckled my seat belt, but before I could get out, Desmond put a hand on my arm.
“It’s going to be a quick meeting with legal, and I’ll be with you the entire time,” he said just as a warmth spread over my chest.
He was staying back.
“I wanted to check if you’d like to have lunch with me after. You know, just for …”
“Old times’ sake?” I finished, my heart beating so loudly in my chest that I was sure he was going to call me out on it.
He nodded.
“I think lunch sounds wonderful,” I breathed out, and he did that thing where he tried to hide his smile so that he didn’t show how pleased he was.
So, that hasn’t changed.
We got out of the car, and Desmond led me to the legal department.
An older man with an eggshell-shaped head and stern features sat across from us at the heavy oak table and listened to me quietly.
When I was done, he simply said, “I’ll take care of it, but we’ll need to get all the evidence you have. And we need to make sure that Mr. Whitby doesn’t get wind of this before Luxe Hotels’ investigation is complete.”
I nodded. “I can keep this quiet until it’s confirmed.”
I’d have to tell Gabi and the others to keep a lid on it, which shouldn’t be a problem.
When we were done, Desmond walked back to the car with me, holding the door open for me and sitting down a moment later on my left. “I have a reservation at Steel, which isn’t too far from here. When we arrive, I’ll have you go in first, and I’ll follow a few minutes later, just to be cautious.”
I nodded, and ten minutes later, I walked into a busy but upscale restaurant with a high ceiling and artistic steel work on the walls. I spoke to the host, who immediately showed me to a table at the back.
Desmond walked in a few moments later, and I saw some heads shift in his direction as he took his seat across from me.
“This place is fantastic,” I said just as a waitress came by to hand us our menus, her smile brightening up when she saw Desmond.
We ordered our drinks, and the waitress disappeared after stealing a second look at Desmond.
“You have a fan,” I said when she was out of earshot.
Desmond laughed. “Thank you, but for now, I’m more interested in ordering our lunch. I seem to remember an Ava who would get very hangry if lunch was late. Or has that changed?”
That sentence hung in the air between us for a second, and I felt my chest expand with warmth at the idea that Desmond was trying to learn more about me.
How is this the guy who planned to break up with me the moment school was over?
“Ah. It hasn’t changed. I need some French fries, stat.” I smiled at him. “Though I did hear through the grapevine that you ditched carbs, and I’m afraid I cannot condone someone who dismisses fries.”
He grinned. “Ellie tried to convince me, but I successfully rallied on behalf of all fries.”