It’s just as well. Having a face for the camera is as much a curse as it is a blessing, right, Ava?
Ava really couldn’t blame her best friend for disliking her mother. Still, while Beth had no reason to feel guilty about screening Viv’s calls, Ava did feel guilty. She tried to call her parents every Sunday, but she’d been avoiding them for two weeks now.
Ever since she found out about the America’s Hero segment.
Her parents would be thrilled, which would have most daughters diving for the phone.
But her parents’ excitement over the story was precisely the reason Ava didn’t want to tell them. Strange as it sounded, some gut-level part of Ava rebelled at the idea of doing what her parents expected of her. Which made no sense. Their goals had always been Ava’s goals. Sure, they were the ones who had nudged her toward the path of anchorwoman, but Ava had been the one to pursue it.
It was just…
She wasn’t ready to tell them. Wasn’t ready to listen to all of the “this is your big break!” enthusiasm until she was sure how she felt about it.
“Uh oh,” Beth said, leaning forward to grab a handful of potato chips from the bag Ava’d set on the able. “You’re biting your nail.”
Ava dropped her hand to her lap. “Sorry.”
Beth rolled her eyes. “Don’t be sorry. Calls from my mom set me on edge sometimes too, and mine isn’t, um…”
“A nightmare?” Ava said with a knowing smile.
“Yeah. That. But seriously, do you want to call your mom back? Reservations aren’t until eight, so we have time.”
“Definitely not,” Ava said, taking a sip of her wine. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“To tell her about Officer McHotty?”
Ava lifted her eyebrows. “Is that what we’re calling him now?”
“Oh, come on,” Beth said, putting a hand over her chest and sighing dramatically. “I’ve seen the videos. And did you see that story in the Times? The one where they caught a picture of him laughing with his brothers? That whole family can frisk me any old time.”
Ava threw a chip at her. “Pull yourself together.”
“But he’s hot, right? In person?”
Ava pursed her lips and glanced at her wine. “He’s good-looking.”
Beth snorted. “From anyone else, that would be an epic understatement. But coming from you, it’s…something.”
“What do you mean, coming from me?”
“I mean,” Beth said around a chip, “that you’re overdue. Past ripe.”
Ava groaned. “That is terrible.”
“It’s true! I mean this with absolutely unabashed love, but I’ve started to wonder if your lady parts weren’t expiring from lack of use.”
“My lady parts are just fine, thank you very much.”
“So you admit it. Officer Moretti is hot.”
Ava laughed at her friend’s relentlessness. “Yes, okay, fine, I admit it. He’s hot.”
Beth’s eyes narrowed and she leaned forward. “You gave in way too easily. What’s the catch. Is he secretly a prick? Gay? Super short?”
“No, no, and no. He…” Ava broke off as she considered. “He seems like a nice guy.”
Beth flopped back with a groan. “Oh no.”
“What?”
“You’re writing him off before you’ve even started the story.”
“Okay, let’s hold it right there. I’m glad you realize that he is in fact a story, not a potential suitor.”
“Suitor? Easy there, your Oklahoma’s coming out.”
“You know what I mean. Quit pretending that Luc is a romantic prospect.”
“Luc, huh?” Beth’s eyebrows wiggled.
Whoops.
Ava leaned forward and grabbed the wine bottle, topping her glass off. “I’m just saying…your upcoming trot down the aisle’s got you all match-makery, and I don’t want to have to spend the next two months having to explain that Officer Moretti is a part of my professional life, not my personal one.”
Even if he is the best-looking guy I’ve seen in a long time.
“Good,” Beth said, holding out her hands and wiggling her fingers for the wine bottle.