Chapter 12 Ava #2
I heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief, and he laughed.
There’s so much of the boy he once was still in him today.
“Before our waitress comes by, I need you to know that I hired a private investigator to look into Kyle. He’s currently in Austin,” Desmond said, and I felt a momentary frisson of relief that he was far away.
“Kyle left for Austin immediately after he stole from you. According to my PI, one of the waitresses who works here, Misty, once worked with Kyle at a McDonald’s in Austin,” he said.
“Oh,” I said, feeling taken aback at the extent of knowledge Desmond had about Kyle.
Had he made it his personal mission to find out everything he could about him in the past few days?
He gestured to the kitchen. “So, if you feel up to speaking with her, I could ask and have the manager put her on a break.”
I almost choked on my drink. “Do you own this restaurant too?”
Desmond laughed. “Are you going to ask me that every time we eat out?” He shook his head. “And, no, I don’t make a habit of buying all the restaurants I eat at.”
“Just the ones that are failing then?” I ask.
He grinned. “The only restaurant I was interested in turned out to have you.”
I blushed, but before I could respond, our waitress walked up. My eyes went to the badge on her shirt, and my mouth fell open when I saw that this was Misty. Desmond and I exchanged a quick glance of surprise while Misty filled our glasses with water.
Misty was an olive-skinned beauty. I looked at the smile on her lips, which went all the way to her eyes, and I felt more at ease.
A lot of people I’d met over the past few months were people hoping to land something in Broadway.
She was probably another woman who was hoping to make it big here in New York. I could relate to having big dreams.
“Hi, Misty,” I said, smiling at her. “How would you rate the French fries at this fine establishment on the scale of yikes, I should’ve gone to McDonald’s instead to ooh, I’d kill my date just to be able to eat his share?”
She laughed a nice, throaty laugh, and her long, straight hair shook behind her. “Kill my date worthy,” she said sneakily, but with a glance at Desmond, she leaned in to me and conspiratorially said, “I wouldn’t kill this date though.”
The corners of Desmond’s lips curved in a knowing smile while I attempted to give Misty a serious look.
“All right, Misty, I’ll take the fries, and I’ll keep him alive,” I conceded, grinning at her. “Just for you though.”
She chuckled and shook her head. “Ah, I appreciate that,” she said, pocketing her notebook. “But going by the way he’s gazing at you, I suspect I’ve lost out to you by a mile,” she said with a wink at me.
It didn’t matter that she was wrong about her assumption about Desmond and me. She was getting a hefty tip from me.
She took the rest of our order—an asparagus and arugula salad for me and a cheeseburger for Desmond—and left.
“It looks like most of the women in New York are smitten by you,” I observed as he looked at me with an expression that was part-embarrassed and part-smug.
“Barring one,” he said, with a pointed look at me and I laughed.
“Thank goodness for that,” I said, and noticed a subtle change in his expression at my flippant remark, before it was quickly gone. Was he offended by that?
Realizing the conversation was getting a little too cozy, I searched around for another topic, but Desmond beat me to it.
“Flattered as I am by the direction your conversation with Misty took,” he began, “did I miss the part where you grilled her about Kyle?”
“I was just warming myself up,” I protested. “I can’t ask strangers incessant questions about my ex-boyfriend like a maniac.”
He raised his eyebrows. “So, now?” he asked.
“Now, Misty isn’t a stranger anymore,” I said simply. “She’s a witness. Who’ll ensure you walk out of this building with all body parts intact.”
He groaned and looked away. “Ava, you still have a terrible sense of humor.”
“You are still always in a hurry.” I grinned just as Misty came back with our fries.
She set it on the table and flipped her hair over her shoulder as she turned to go and then leaned down to give me a small nudge. “See? I flung my hair over and everything, and he didn’t even bat an eyelid,” she teased.
Desmond groaned. “Somebody, help me.”
Misty laughed and looked at me. “The rest of your food should be out soon. If you need anything …” She paused at the look on my face. “Yes?”
I hesitated. “This is going to sound really crazy, so please don’t mistake me for a nutcase—”
“Oh, I’m sorry, but I don’t do threesomes,” Misty said immediately, looking concerned.
Desmond burst into laughter while my jaw fell to the floor.
“This is why we get to the point instead of warming yourself up,” Desmond said when the laughter died off his lips.
He turned to Misty, taking charge of the conversation. “Do you know a man named Kyle Whitby?” He gestured to me. “She’s his ex. Ava Hale.”
“He dumped me,” I offered, taking a sip of my water. “Apparently I’m psychotic.”
Misty pocketed a pen and frowned. “If you’re the psychotic one, then your ex is the devil incarnate.”
Interesting.
I took another sip of my water and turned to Desmond. “It sounds like she does know Kyle, doesn’t it?”
Fifteen minutes later, we’d gotten Kyle’s last known phone number, the number of his manager at the McDonald’s on South Congress Avenue in Austin, and information that Kyle had made off with three of Misty’s most expensive pieces of jewelry.
“The manager at McD’s is a fantastic woman. She ought to help you find out more,” Misty said before heading back to her job.
She got a thirty percent tip and a job offer to work at The Galley when it eventually reopened, which she politely declined.
“I’ll be heading to LA in six months for an acting workshop,” she said with a smile before we parted ways.
Desmond and I sat silently in the car on our way back to work. The box of coats was still here, and it would be going back home with me later that evening.
“You know,” I began, my voice more vulnerable than it had been this past hour, “when I found out it was you who invested in The Galley, I was surprised, to be honest. And worried. Given—”
“How I broke up with you,” Desmond finished for me.
I nodded.
We’d been each other’s firsts. First person we called in the mornings when we woke up, first lovers in bed, first long-term relationship.
I knew the tone of his voice so well that I could tell if he was having a good day or if he’d just had an argument back home over his test scores and needed to get away from home for a little bit.
When he had good days, he’d take me out to ice cream and tell me that he loved me over melting chocolate and kisses.
When he had his bad days, which were usually days when our grades came out, well, those were the days I’d go over to his place with his favorite pizza and we’d eat it together on the front steps of his apartment.
His mom didn’t truly like me, so, even though we had to keep our voices low and pretend I wasn’t there, it was worth it because Desmond always seemed happier after I visited.
When he’d shut me out of his life, my heart had shut down too.
I was incapable of loving as freely as I had done before.
I held his gaze, his liquid brown eyes on mine. I could feel the rise and fall of my chest, and the moment stretched out, neither of us taking our eyes away from the other.
“And yet, here you are, helping me fix things with my mom’s restaurant,” I whispered. “Why, Desmond?”
He reached for his cuff links, fiddling with them as he looked away. He thought for a minute before he looked up at me. “You know, Ava, I’m terribly sorry for the way I treated you in the past.”
I watched his face carefully. I had gotten him to address that painful event at last, but I realized the pain of that breakup had been dulled by a more recent loss.
“I broke up with you after Mom died.” His hands tightened into fists.
“I don’t think I’ve ever forgiven myself for not being with her when that happened,” Desmond said, his voice shaking.
“In the weeks after mom’s death, I was emotionally unavailable as a boyfriend, and I could see that I was hurting you.
The only thing I could think of to make things better was to give up on us.
That way, you couldn’t have expectations that were dashed.
But I realize that I hurt you way more by breaking up with you than anything else, and I’m so sorry for that. ”
I cast him a quick glance. I was glad for an apology, but I wasn’t sure if I held it against him anymore.
“When I saw you at the office on your first day, I didn’t think I’d end up spending more time with you.
Especially because, after we broke up, I hoped—I always hoped—you’d at least be happy even if it was not with me.
But finding out about the troubles you went through after your mom’s passing …
well, that part got to me.” He hesitated. “What happened?” he asked.
I stared at my shoes, feeling hollow. “It was a hear—you know what? I don’t want to talk about it.”
He nodded. “She touched so many people’s lives. Remember her book club friends? They loved her. They used to come over every Thursday and bring those wonderful cookies.”
“Hmm.” I looked away, avoiding his gaze. I felt uncomfortable with this.
“Ava”—he paused, a quizzical look in his eye—“are you okay? I’m sorry I never asked you this, but how have you been since her loss? I don’t like the idea of you being unhappy.”
“I’ve been fine. I’m not unhappy. Just bitter—that’s all.”
He looked at me and reached for my hand.
Taking it, he gave it a squeeze. “Ava, I promise you, we’ll find Kyle and make him pay.
You’ll get your mom’s restaurant back up and running, and you’ll do an amazing job in helping to ensure her legacy endures.
” Desmond let his gaze rest on me gently for a few seconds before he shook his head.
“Besides, my Ava, bitter? Not a chance.”
I felt a pang in my chest. I hadn’t been his Ava in ten years. And I didn’t want to deal with the ache and longing I felt when I heard those words.
“I’m busy all of tomorrow,” Desmond continued. “Unfortunately, there’s a party I’m required to attend in the evening. But the day after, I could check in with you to hear about how your call with Kyle’s McDonald’s manager went.”
I nodded. “I’ll keep you posted.” I turned to him with a grin. “Though that must be a terrible social event if you have to be forced into going,” I said.
My evenings comprised dodging shady people on my walk home from the subway station and finding creative ways to stay warm in an apartment where the heater broke down ever so often.
“I’m not exactly being forced into it,” he said, bending his head back. “But you know me. I find social events to be quite a bore.”
“The trick is to make sure you have good company,” I said without thinking.
He stared at me for a minute, and I had an instant understanding of what he was contemplating.
I gaped at him.
“Oh my God, no, that’s not what I was suggesting,” I said immediately. He was my boss, for God’s sake. I did not want my boss to think I was inviting myself out on a date with him. “I meant with someone else, of course. Anyone else.”
“Of course,” he said, nodding. “Though it’s a pity I can’t take you, you know,” he said, sounding regretful. He gave me a meaningful look. “From what I remember, you made a great guest at parties.”
I felt my cheeks go warm. “Well, as your employee, it would be inappropriate,” I said. “So, let’s not talk about it.”
Desmond stared at me with a chuckle, and I could read his body language very well. He bowed his head for a moment before he looked up, head held high.
He shook his head as he looked at me, his voice earnest. “I agree. By the way, you’re prettier than I remember, you know? I didn’t think that was possible.”
I blushed just as the car slowed to a stop. “You’re handsomer than I remember, too, but I always knew you would be.”
Our eyes met. Desmond’s lips parted, and his eyes showed he was pleasantly surprised. I’d always believed in the best of him and the man he would grow to be in the future.
“I really was a lucky bastard when you agreed to go out with me ten years ago,” he said while I pulled my gaze away.
I didn’t know about that, but he had certainly been a fool for giving up on us.