Frisk Me

But the real icing on the cake was Ava’s “birthday dinner” the night before. It had, of course, turned into a dinner with three other producers in which Miranda had run through the gamut of the Sims family achievements.

Miranda herself, of course, was one of the youngest talk-show hosts in the history of the network.

Danny was the leading authority in international relations.

(It had taken all of Ava’s self-control and good manners to keep from pointing out that expertise on various types of wine did not an international relations expert make.)

Their parents, of course, were Oklahoma royalty and would have been household names had it not been for the unexpected conception of Ava’s brother…

And Ava—how had Miranda put it?

Oh yes. Poor Ava has all the makings of a great anchorwoman; she just needs her big break.

It would have been the perfect time to point out that she had gotten her big break, in the form of Officer Luc Moretti.

But Ava hadn’t said a word, even though it would have been slightly fabulous to watch her sister’s smug smile disappear.

It was bad enough Ava was using Luc Moretti to get ahead in her career, even though it was becoming increasingly apparent that he legitimately didn’t want to be in the limelight. Ava hadn’t been able to bring herself to use Luc’s goodness as ammunition against her family.

She wanted to get her family off her back her way.

So she’d endured the hell of all hellish pre-birthday dinners. As such, Ava hadn’t even been the tiniest bit fazed when her sister’s flight was scheduled for the morning of her actual birthday. In fact, watching her sister get driven away in her fancy town car was the best Ava had felt in days.

Mihail dangled a red and yellow gummy worm in front of her face. She raised an eyebrow, because it was his favorite flavor.

“Your birthday present,” he said.

She accepted the gummy with a smile. “You spoil me.”

“Someone has to,” he muttered.

“Hey!” she said around the gummy. “Quit making me feel like a loser just because my sister didn’t stick around for my birthday. I’ll have you know I have plans tonight!”

Since Ava’s birthday was their “friendship anniversary,” Beth always went all out for the celebration.

In their early twenties it had been all about clubs. Mid-twenties, it was fancy cocktail lounges.

And now that they were officially in their late twenties, and had more respect for things like bedtime, tonight was girls’ night at a fancy wine bar.

And after three straight days of her sister’s crafty belittling, Ava fully intended to drink a bottle to herself.

Her phone rang, and Ava waved Mihail away as she picked it up. “Sims.”

There was a pause on the other end. “Sims? Is that how they answer their phone in New York?”

The remainder of the gummy worm nearly got stuck in her throat, and she took a gulp of water to wash it down. “Mom.”

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“Thanks. How come you’re calling at my desk phone instead of my cell?”

Her mom let out one of her tinkling, practiced laughs. “You don’t raise three children and not have a sixth sense about when they’re screening your calls.”

Ava sucked in her cheeks to stave off the feeling of guilt. She didn’t always screen her mom’s calls…only when she knew they’d be served up with a healthy dose of you’re not achieving your potential.

“Sorry, Mom. Things have been kind of crazy lately.”

“Yes, Miranda mentioned you were doing some feel-good documentary on traffic officers?”

Ava pinched the bridge of her nose. It was a real gift her family had—make everything Ava did sound insignificant.

“Something like that.”

“Hmm. Well, I guess they can’t all be make-or-break stories. Your father heard from some of his connections that Gwen Garrison is eyeing retirement.”

Ava nibbled her nail. “Yeah, that’s the rumor.”

“Well that’s great, sweetie! This could be it! Your big chance. I mean, not as long as you’re doing traffic stories, but you only have so many windows, and at your age, this might be your last one.”

“I’m only twenty-seven,” Ava ground out.

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