That Weekend...

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That Weekend... Page 11

by Jennifer Mckenzie


  “Hello?”

  One of the bags slid dangerously low on his wrist, threatening to spill its contents onto the sidewalk. He swung it back up, wondering if he might have overdone it a bit. Probably. But to Jake, a movie just wasn’t a movie without the treats. It was a habit that stemmed from his mother, who’d made an event out of every made-for-TV movie his father had ever produced. And there had been a lot. Although he didn’t do it every time—it wasn’t appropriate at theater premieres and his ex had never wanted the extra calories—when the time and company were right, Jake indulged himself.

  “It’s Alex.”

  “Hey.” Jake rebalanced his treats bags and continued to the hotel, keeping one eye on the sidewalk in case there was any more stray ice around. They didn’t need a second trip to the hospital. “What’s up?”

  “Rescheduled the meeting with the investors to this Friday. Dinner. Some good food, good wine and you can wow them with your charm. Oh, no, wait, that’s me.”

  Jake snorted. Friday was tight. He wouldn’t get home until Thursday afternoon, but he was confident that he’d be ready. He’d spent every free moment in the past six weeks making sure he was ready. “What time?”

  “Eight. I’ve emailed you the details, and I tried calling Carly. I know you said I shouldn’t, but we’re pressed for time and I think she should be there. Makes things look more stable.” Which made investors much more likely to hand over their money. “Also, never hurts to have a pretty face around.”

  “I thought we agreed that I would be the contact for Carly.” Since Alex wasn’t involved in the filming part of the show, it made more sense for Jake to liaise with the on-camera talent. Plus, he was concerned that pretty, bubbly Carly had developed a bit of a crush on Alex’s golden-boy good looks.

  “You’re out of town.”

  “Yes, but you need to keep your distance.”

  “Why? Are you questioning my ability to charm her?”

  “No, I’m just saying that your old love-’em-and-leave-’em technique isn’t going to fly in this instance.”

  “Hey, I’ve perfected that technique to a fine art.”

  “And you aren’t using it on Carly. I don’t have time to look for another host if you piss her off.” It had taken three rounds of auditions to find Carly.

  “Don’t get your panties in a wad. She’s not answering her phone anyway,” Alex said.

  Jake reached the front of the hotel and nodded at the doorman. “Good. Maybe that means she was smart enough to avoid your calls. Anyway, just leave it and I’ll call her.”

  “You don’t give me enough credit.”

  “That’s because I know you.” Jake grinned. Even in university, Alex had always had a knack with women. Jake could remember a trio of them coming to his dorm one Friday night, each one sure they were his date for the evening. Alex had somehow not only managed to avoid a fight, but convinced them that they could each be his date at the same time. As far as Jake knew, a good time had been had by all. The only person who had been bothered was Hanna, who felt that Alex hadn’t shown the women any respect and had taken it upon herself to spread the word to the rest of the females on campus. “I need to go. I’m flying home Thursday. Don’t worry about Carly, I’ll get in touch with her. See you in a few days.”

  Ten minutes later, after a quick shower and some fresh clothes, he was clean and clearheaded and knocking on Ava’s door. She pulled it open and after perusing him closely, frowned. “You washed your hair.”

  He shrugged, suddenly feeling as if maybe he had been primping for her. It was a little embarrassing to get caught.

  “I have to make an appointment with the hotel’s salon to get my hair washed. It’s not fair that you can wash yours any old time you want.”

  “So you’d prefer I stay dirty?” He held out the treats, still in the plastic bags. “I brought snacks.”

  “Good thing I like snacks.” She plucked one bag from his hand. “I’ll accept these as a peace offering.”

  He laughed, pleased that there seemed to be no lingering awkwardness between them. If she could act as though nothing had changed, so could he. Well, except for the tingle he felt whenever he looked at her.

  Jake moved into the room and sat at the desk chair, unloading the second bag of snacks and reminding himself that he hadn’t moved all the way to the West Coast, a three-hour time difference from friends and family, not to make a success of his life. It wasn’t just about leaving Claudia and her duplicity behind. It was proving to his father and himself that he could do it.

  He could still picture the disappointment in his father’s eyes when he’d heard about what had happened with his ex. Jake shook the uncomfortable memory away and focused on the snacks.

  Just as his father had taken a risk by producing a little independent movie—somehow convincing a pair of national television stations to enter into a bidding war for the broadcast rights—which had become one of the most watched made-for-TV movies in the country, Jake wanted his travel show to be a massive hit.

  “What did you bring?” Ava hovered over his shoulder, her scent filling his head.

  “Just a few things.” A comment that completely belied the bursting seams of the bags. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I bought a little of everything.”

  They were friends, just friends. And he was okay with that. He turned to smile at her. “You want the Red Hots or the Junior Mints?”

  ENTNEWSNOW.COM/AVASBLOG

  Boo to Ice

  Seriously, tooling around town in a cast is not for the weak-willed. I have to be on constant alert for more ice (because it clearly cannot be trusted), try to make my cast look less “casty” and do everything one-handed!

  Jake, my producer, assures me that he and Brandon, who has been sans contessa this trip, will help out whenever they can, and I plan to take full advantage. I’ve earned it.

  After all, I did not weep like a baby during surgery, though I desperately wanted to. (I mean, I can’t even watch Grey’s Anatomy!) So, although I’ll be working the rest of the festival as damaged goods, I won’t be missing out on anything juicy. Such as...

  ...the adorable Ashley Tisdale (if you don’t like High School Musical, we can’t be friends) and her equally adorable dog wearing coordinated outfits.

  ...Bieber. (Yes, I know I am old enough to be his mother. Don’t judge.)

  ...Rob Lowe! Still just as dreamy as he was in St. Elmo’s Fire. (My first babysitter lurved her some Brat Packers, though she preferred bad boy Judd Nelson. She used to make me watch the movies every time they were on TV, which was always. Once I was old enough to stay home alone, I kept up the tradition. Come on. How can you not love John Hughes movies no matter what year you were born?) And he said hello! Really, this is truly shaping up to be the best festival ever—even with my broken wrist.

  Kiss kiss,

  Ava

  CHAPTER NINE

  AVA WATCHED THROUGH her keyhole as Jake walked down the hall to the elevator. She was glad that he’d finally left. Maybe now her racing heartbeat could return to normal.

  It didn’t even make sense. She didn’t want to kiss him, didn’t want him to kiss her. Okay, that was a lie. But it was a bad, bad idea. They worked together. They had to maintain a professional relationship no matter what happened. And she did not think she was up to the drama that would ensue if they didn’t.

  Still, he hadn’t even tried.

  She tossed the last of the Junior Mints in
to her mouth and chewed.

  * * *

  AFTER FOUR MORE DAYS of covering the festival and attending star-studded events, Ava had to admit that whatever was happening between her and Jake wasn’t going away.

  She pulled out her BlackBerry and crossed her fingers that Jilly was available.

  Is Dr. Jillian in the house? Advice needed.

  For you? The doctor is always in. What’s up?

  Ava took a deep breath and typed quickly, as if that would make it easier.

  Jake kissed me.

  WHAT!? When? Where? How? (I figure the who and what are covered.)

  Ava could practically hear Jilly’s excited shriek.

  A few days ago. Saturday night, to be exact. I’d like to blame it on the surgery meds making me loopy, but I was only on ibuprofen and aspirin. Hardly a drugging combo.

  How could you keep this from me for the last *checking calendar*...FOUR DAYS! I thought we were friends.

  Because Ava had spent the past four days trying to convince herself that the kiss was no big deal.

  We are friends, which is why I’m telling you now. I’d been hoping that I could just move past it. Forget about it. But that’s not happening.

  Oh, wow. Tell me exactly what happened. How he swept you off your feet and dipped you like one of those hot Russians on “Dancing With the Stars,” then made your head spin with his luscious lips.

  Ava smiled despite her roiling emotions.

  No dipping, but he pinned me to a wall and there was definitely some head-spinning. So, of course, I told him not to do it again. And now I can’t stop thinking about it. About him. Gah. I’m pathetic.

  Not pathetic. You like him. What’s wrong with that?

  She didn’t even know where to begin.

  We work together, meaning the complications could be astronomical. And I don’t want to like him. But he makes it hard. Did I tell you that he always gets my coffee order right without my having to remind him?

  He’s a prince. Back to the good stuff, what do you intend to do about it?

  Wasn’t that what she’d texted Jilly for?

  Le sigh. Stupidly, I’m hoping when we leave here that it will just go away. Maybe it’s the whole forbidden-fruit thing. I only want him because I can’t have him.

  Maybe. But what about while you’re there? (I notice you didn’t mention that you have another night before you come home. Anything could happen...)

  The thought made her hands shake.

  Do you think if we kissed again, it would all go away?

  Ha! I think you’re looking for a good reason to kiss him.

  No, she wasn’t. She was looking for a good reason not to kiss him.

  You brought it up.

  I’m sorry. Recheck the conversation. Nowhere do I say that you should kiss him again. (Though I totally think you should.)

  Ava scrolled through the texts and saw that Jilly was right. But that wasn’t important.

  I could except for the small (and embarrassing) fact that when I told him we shouldn’t do that, he agreed. He even said that we should pretend nothing had happened. How rude.

  Well, what did you expect him to do?

  Wasn’t it obvious?

  Pledge his undying love and throw himself at my feet. What else?

  Then kiss him.

  If only it were so easy.

  Have you forgotten that we work together? And worse, that he’s my boss?

  First off, he’s not exactly your boss. Second, don’t you watch “Grey’s Anatomy”?

  Ava had tried a few times because so many people had talked about what a great show it was, but she just couldn’t get past the blood. It was too much for her weak stomach.

  Do you even read my blog? You know I can’t watch it. All that blood and ick.

  Let me fill you in: Meredith (the main character...in fact the Grey in “Grey’s Anatomy”) slept with Derek when he was her sort-of boss.

  Ava wasn’t sure what this had to do with her situation.

  Yay for them. And it was probably superweird and awkward, right?

  Only for a little while. Now they’re married. Do you think McHot Stuff>McDreamy?

  Ava didn’t know what Jilly was talking about or who McDreamy was, but this was not helping.

  My life is not a TV show. I’m not marrying Jake. And besides, they’re not real people.

  You asked for my opinion, I gave it. If you don’t want to kiss him and he agrees, why are you upset?

  And there was the million-dollar question.

  I didn’t say it made sense.

  Then I think you should let nature take its course. Forget Clooney, McHot Stuff can be your festival love affair. Just for tonight. Tomorrow you can go back to being your normal, proper self. P.S. I expect all the details when you consummate the relationship.

  Ava’s hands started shaking again.

  Excuse me. I didn’t say I was going to consummate anything.

  You didn’t have to.

  Ava put her BlackBerry down and decided that her time was better spent getting ready for tonight’s wrap-up party than letting Jilly convince her to do something she wasn’t sure was a good idea. That was just Jilly being Jilly. Supportive, impulsive and more than a bit reckless. Which Ava was not.

  It had been a busy few days. Ava had run the interview circuit with panache and gotten a humorous story out of Brad Pitt. She’d bumped into Kate Hudson in the bathroom and given her the extra lip gloss she always carried in her purse for emergencies, which resulted in a charming and funny interview later that day. Not to mention all the hours she’d spent with Jake in the editing suite as they raced to get their stories finished in time for the show’s evening broadcast. Even her mother would be impressed.

  And now they were leaving. Their flight was at noon tomorrow, so this was their last night to whoop it up in town before they returned to the status quo. A part of Ava was looking forward to getting back into the station where she could keep Jake at arm’s length and get over this silly crush, while another part was loath to leave Idaho and the opening it offered. Once they were back in Vancouver, the chance to kiss Jake would be gone. And try as she might to remind herself that it was the professional thing to do, she couldn’t quite convince herself it was really what she wanted.

  The wrap-up party wasn’t so much an organized send-off as a crashing of an already planned party. There were plenty of media teams sticking around until the end of the festival, which wouldn’t officially end for another week, but there were many others who, like them, showed up for the premieres, stayed a few days to get enough footage for a couple of weeks’ worth of stories and then jetted home.

  Ava was blotting her lipstick when a knock sounded at her door. Even though she knew it was only Brandon—she’d asked him to stop by for her on his way out—her heart still picked up speed at the thought of seeing Jake in just a few minutes.

  “Hey,” she said as she swung the door open. “I just need to put on my boots and then we can... Oh.” She stopped talking when she saw Jake standing in the hallway.

  She didn’t need the mirror to know that her eyes had widened and her mouth had fallen open. Great. Just how she wanted to start the evening, looking like Horror Movie Victim #2.

  But she recovered quickly. Interviewing celebrities had taught her to be prepared to launch into cool professionalism at any moment. “I was expecting Brandon. Come in. I just need to put on my boots and coat and we can
go.”

  “Brandon’s still primping,” Jake said. “Something about how this is his last night in town.”

  “And he wants to get lucky,” Ava finished. She laughed and the odd thumping in her chest eased. “He’ll probably ditch us later.”

  “I’ll try not to be offended.”

  She felt his eyes on her and tried not to think about it. It wasn’t the kind of staring that meant anything; he was just looking at her because it was natural to look at the person you were speaking to. “So, where are we going for dinner?”

 

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