by Lara Swann
I squeeze my eyes shut tight, trying to massage the pounding pain that’s started throbbing through my head.
“Maybe—” She starts, but I don’t let her finish.
“Maybe I don’t have to tell them.” I answer for her, opening my eyes again. “If I deal with the—the nausea myself, then this contract will finish before—before it’s too obvious—and maybe, maybe I won’t be offered a job until a little later and I’ll be able to—I don’t know—”
“That wasn’t the maybe I was going to say.” Vicki mutters, then sighs. “Maybe they won’t have such a problem with it, Ava. You keep saying how your manager is actually not an asshole.”
I shake my head emphatically. “I don’t know that being pregnant won’t change that. This industry is too competitive and if they think I can’t work for a little while…no, Vicki, I can’t tell them.”
I can see the worry in her eyes as she looks at me, and I know she doesn’t agree - but she just doesn’t get it. I can’t let this derail the one good thing I might have in my life. I don’t know quite how I’m going to work that out yet, but I’ve got to try at least.
“And Damien?” She asks quietly.
I close my eyes again. I don’t want to think about that. I really, really don’t.
I groan softly. “Oh, god…I can’t…”
“You have to tell him.” She repeats, in that same quiet voice.
I know that. I do. But…
“You don’t understand.” I whisper. “This is the last thing he wants, Vicki. He was just telling me how he’s had to deal with responsibility all his life - he’s finally free of it, finally getting to live his own life and—and—he’s going to hate me. And what if he wants me to—to get rid of it?”
The horror that strikes me at the thought removes the last of any doubt I had about that. Whatever I do, I know I’d never be able to go through with that - and I’d never be able to live with myself afterward. I know I can’t keep the little thing growing inside me, I’m just not capable, but I can’t do that to it either.
Something else hits me and I bite my lip.
“Oh god, what if he thinks I did this deliberately or something? He’s rich, Vicki, with his own business…what if he thinks I’m some crazy gold digger and—”
“It doesn’t matter.” She says, and I’m surprised at how firm her voice is. “It doesn’t matter what he thinks or what he says or what he does - it’s not up to him. But he needs to know, you know that, Ava. It’s not right to keep it from him.”
I lean into her further and her arms come back around me as we lower ourselves until we’re lying on the couch.
“I know.” I whisper again. “I just…don’t know how. And I’m scared, Vicki. I’m so scared.”
“Shhh, it’s okay…I know. You have a little bit of time. You don’t need to go announcing it tomorrow - you can think about it, at least. It’ll take time to work out what you’re going to do, but…we can talk about it, okay? And we can keep talking about it, until it’s sorted.”
I take a deep breath, trying to believe her.
And trying not to see the way Damien looked at me last week…and how that might change the moment he hears about this.
Vicki eventually talks some of the panic out of me, but I’m still tense, even as I reluctantly agree that it’s been enough of a shock that talking about it anymore tonight won’t help. Instead, we agree to get takeout and watch trash TV until our eyes bleed, and I try to count my blessings.
I have Vicki. Thank god for Vicki.
I have parents who love and support me.
I might have a job, maybe, that I might be able to keep. Maybe.
Somehow, just somehow, maybe that will be enough to get through this - one way or another - and work out what the hell I’m going to do.
But I’m still scared.
And as I snuggle with Vicki on the couch, I can’t help wanting Damien to be there more than anything.
Wanting him to tell me it’s all going to be okay.
Even though that’s impossible.
Even though he’s the one that got me into this situation in the first place.
Even though I just know how bad it’s going to be the moment he actually finds out.
Chapter Sixteen
Damien
The day I get back from New York, Ava isn’t there.
She doesn’t appear the next day either - and even though I know it’s probably largely my own impatience, I start to get concerned. I wish I could simply ask after her, but after everything that happened between us - and what I’m hoping might continue to happen between us - I know what she’d think of me drawing attention to my interest in that way.
And yeah, I know it would be a bad idea too.
I don’t even have her number to call and check she’s alright - despite our two intense nights together and seeing each other almost every day for a few weeks, we’ve never actually exchanged numbers. Probably deliberately.
I’m guessing she’s just sick and will be back soon, but I wish I could see her anyway. I hope someone is looking after her.
I hope she’s not just trying to avoid me again.
It’s an unfair thought, but it’s still there at the edge of my mind. All her comments about not getting involved seem to come back to me on repeat and I can’t help wondering whether Friday night freaked her out more than I’d thought. I’d left that night with the hope that all those objections might have given way to something else…with the feeling there was something there between us. I still don’t know what - but I thought we both wanted to find out.
Now…now I’m left wondering.
And it’s frustrating me endlessly.
It’s a good thing that we managed to start smoothing things over with Prestige - just about - with that extra time in New York. Thompson might be an arrogant bastard - but at least they’re fairly predictable. I had to swallow my pride and kiss ass a bit, but unsurprisingly Thompson was more than amenable to that. That might even have been what he wanted, more than anything to do with the deal - the chance to watch the kind of new money tech CEO defer to him. Not my favorite thing at all but finally easing some of Katy’s worry was worth the bitter aftertaste it left in my mouth.
Now that I’m back home and out of the spotlight they were trying to shine on me, it’s a relief to know I can get back to the actual work that needs to be done for the deal, instead of clashing with the people involved. Not to mention, with Ava’s absence destroying my focus, I’m not sure how well I’d do going toe-to-toe with Thompson again right now.
She doesn’t make an appearance for the rest of the day - and as I see Tina leaving, my resolve almost breaks. But I don’t ask.
She’ll be back tomorrow. You can talk tomorrow. You can see if that look in her eyes is still there then…
I stay late at the office, but it’s not until I get home that I get a distraction that actually works.
“Damien!”
The moment I walk in the door of the elegant Italian-styled home I bought after Indivest started taking off, my sister’s excited voice greets me.
She jumps up from the couch in the large, open-plan living space and bounces across the rich wooden floor to fling her arms around me before I’ve even had a moment to blink.
“Emily!” I grin, my own exclamation a little more surprised than hers as I wrap her up in a tight hug. “I didn’t know you were back.”
“No?” She steps back with an impish smile, green eyes twinkling at me. “And here I thought my big bro was anxiously checking up on my every movement.”
I laugh, finally shrugging my jacket off and moving toward the kitchen at the end of the living space, glancing back over my shoulder at her.
“Yeah I was, but after the first month it seemed like you knew what you were doing - figured I’d leave you to it and just enjoy reading about your adventures after any of the disasters involved had obviously passed. Far less stressful that way.”
I pull out the bot
tle of champagne I’d been reserving in the fridge and find a couple of glasses as Emily laughs behind me. It makes me smile to hear that from her again. I always forget how much I miss the mix of sweetness and sass that she does so well.
“C’mon.” I turn around to flourish the bottle of champagne. “I might not have known exactly when you were coming back, but I was saving this for it anyway. Let’s have a drink and then you can tell me everything - including all the parts you left out of your unrealistically positive blog.”
“Oooh!” She comes over to me with a grin as I pop open the bottle and start pouring it out. “Oh, that’s perfect, bro. Oh-oh-oh, do we have cheese too? I’ve been craving cheese like mad. Especially that fancy stuff you always get.”
She turns toward the refrigerator as I finish pouring the drinks, rummaging around through my cheese drawer while I give in with an indulgent smile, pulling out the different biscuits to go along with it. Normally my drink of choice for cheese would be red wine or port, but Emily has always loved champagne. It’s not exactly my thing, but I figure I can share a glass with her and then leave her to finish that as I move onto something a little less…fizzy.
We make up a little platter, the same way we started doing during her last couple of years of high school - and all the teenage problems that came with that. I’d offered her chocolate and ice cream in the hormonal years before that, but when I’d tried that after she came home crying over a boy she liked who’d asked another girl out, she snapped at me that she wasn’t a kid anymore and these were adult problems now. So on a whim I’d invited her to join me with my wine and cheese - but only if she could act like an adult about it.
I don’t think she even liked the wine the first few times we did it, but Emily is nothing if not stubborn - it even took another couple of years before she admitted that she did actually still like chocolate and ice cream - and in the end this became ‘our thing’. She’d come home and we’d share a platter of cheese while she told me about all the drama that day in high school.
I suppose I should have been grateful at the time that she was talking to me, but I can’t say that’s exactly how I felt. Teenage drama is stressful and listening with no real way to help, infuriated at people who could be so thoughtless and careless with my sister’s feelings, was probably one of the harder things I’ve done in my life.
“Oh god, I’ve missed this.” She sinks back against the kitchen counter with an undeniably pleasurable groan as she takes a bite straight out of one of the cheeses.
“Emily.” I shoot her a disparaging glance and she gives me an unrepentant smile.
“You’d do it too if you hadn’t had this for months.”
“C’mon. Tell me what you have been doing for the last few months then.”
I grab the platter and she takes the glasses and bottle over to the low table as we settle back into the large, L-shaped couch to talk.
Emily opens her mouth, then pauses. “Oh, wow…you know I really don’t know where to start. How do I even begin to tell you how cool the last few months have been? It’s just…so much.”
“Start in the middle. What was your favorite part? Or even better - what was the worst? I want to hear the parts you don’t want me to know about.”
“Of course you do.” She rolls her eyes at me, then grins, picking at the cheese. “Well, okay. There was a time Gemma and I hitched a lift with a truck full of chickens, that was an interesting one. But there was really no other way to get to…”
It all spills out of her at once. Not the whole trip, or even anything coherent, but just one memory and exciting adventure leading to another one, leading to those moments she was absolutely terrified and seconds away from trying to call me to bail her out. It only takes twenty minutes before I realize how damn relieved I am that this is how I’m hearing about it all - with her right in front of me, obviously safe and unharmed - and silently plotting a way never to let her leave the country again. Maybe I should have spent more time checking up on her.
I can’t deny how good it all sounds, though, or how her near-disasters have obviously created some seriously funny stories. Stories I can admittedly only really appreciate because I know they turn out okay.
We get through all the cheese and go back for seconds, while I trade my champagne in for brandy. Emily has no problem keeping the rest of the bottle for herself and I find myself thinking this is one of the best evenings I’ve had for a very long time. Apart from those times with Ava, probably not since Emily was last home.
I don’t think she quite finishes telling me everything - I’m not entirely sure she’ll ever manage that - but after a while she runs out of steam, at least, the alcohol reducing us to a more mellow state as we nibble at the remains of the cheese and biscuits.
“It was amazing, Damien.” She sighs contentedly, leaning back against the couch. “I want to be back there already. Or somewhere else. Ohh, there’s so much I want to see. I can’t wait to work out my next trip.”
“Wait, what?” I ask, immediately alarmed. I just heard the sorts of things that happened on this trip. “Your next trip?”
She catches my expression and laughs. “Don’t worry, don’t worry. The next thing on my list is to stick around and find myself a proper grown-up job, you know - so I can pay for the next one myself.”
“That wasn’t what I was worried about.” I mutter, which only makes her laugh again.
“Ohh, it’ll be fine, Damien. It was so much fun. Hey, maybe you should come with me - a brother-sister trip, how about that? See whether you can keep me out of trouble, right?”
“Yeah, that sounds like my idea of a good time…” I roll my eyes at her and she grins.
“Yeah, maybe not. But you should go yourself anyway, Damien - you’d love it, and honestly, I think you need to get out of Fresno for a bit yourself. You’ve been here for basically your whole life.”
“I was in New York last week.” I retort.
“You were?” Her eyes light up. “Oh, wow, that’s great Damien, how was it? I didn’t know you were on vacation—”
“Well, it was a business trip.” I say wryly, before she can continue with that thought, and she lets out an aggrieved sigh.
“Damien.”
“Hey, it still counts. How can I complain when I get to go places like that for work?”
“Sure, it means you can’t complain about your job. Not that you shouldn’t have anything else in your life.” She rolls her eyes at me. “You spend too much time working - especially now that things are okay. You do know I’m going to get a job now? I’ll be all self-sufficient and everything - nothing more for you to worry about.”
“I’m not sure I’m ever not going to worry about you at all, Em. You’ll always be my baby sister.”
I give her a soft smile. She’s right that she’s all grown up and I probably need to shift my thinking from saving and making money for us to doing it for me now- she needs the space to do her own thing and look after herself. And I always thought that would be some huge relief, giving up that responsibility, but in some ways…I almost miss her relying on me.
“C’mon though.” She leans forward to poke my knee. “At least tell me you had some fun while you were in New York. You didn’t make it all about work, right?”
I smile at that and then suddenly I’m thinking of that night with Ava again.
“Yeah. Yeah, I had some fun too.”
Those images flashing through my mind must do something to my expression, because Emily leans forward at that, giving me a curious look.
“Ohhh. What happened?”
I blink, bringing myself out of those thoughts as I try to shrug it off.
“Just some bars and clubs and places. It’s a fun place, Em.”
“Noo…I want to know what put that look in your eye.” She grins at me, wriggling her eyebrows comically. “Did you meet someone? Did my chaste, uninterested-in-women brother finally find something intriguing?”
“I’m not chaste.” I
mutter.
“Sure.” Emily retorts, her voice heavy with sarcasm.
“Has it not occurred to you that maybe I just don’t tell my baby sister about that sort of thing?”
“Sure it has.” She says easily. “But I always figured there was nothing to tell - because I’ve never seen you look like that before.”
I grunt in frustration, wondering when Emily got observant like that. Just my luck.
“Soo? Is there really someone?”
“No.” I say, then reconsider, my head tilting back to rest against the top of the couch. “Well, maybe. I don’t know. It’s probably nothing.”
“’Probably nothing’ sounds a lot like ‘something’, bro.” Emily says, her voice full of sudden enthusiasm. “I’ve wanted you to start seeing someone for years.”
I blink at that, looking over at her.
“You have?”
“Yeah. Always figured it wasn’t good for you to only have me in your life. I mean, I’ve certainly never held back from getting together with someone.”
“Yeah. I know.” I say, some of the wryness coming back to my voice, but then I shake my head. “I never had time for any of that, Em, you know that.”
“I know.” She nods and for a brief moment her expression turns sad, before she gives me another grin. “But you do now.”
I sigh. I don’t even know how we’re talking about this. I’m pretty sure I’m not talking about it. Why am I talking about it?
“It’s a little more complicated than that.” I say, not even understanding why I’m admitting it.
Maybe it’s the lingering affects of the brandy that are making me more mellow and contemplative - that, or my little sister just has ways to get things out of me that no one else could do.
“Want to talk about it?” She asks, topping up my glass of brandy as she grins at me. “Ooh, you can tell me everything and this time I can finally be the one giving you advice.”
