Where Beauty Lies (Sophia and Ava London) (14 page)

“I do not,” Ava protested.

“I’m afraid you do,” Sophia had said. “You seem to be pretty hooked.”

Lily swallowed a bite of pizza. “What happened to your boytox?”

“Why are you ganging up on me?” Ava asked them. “I thought you’d be happy that I’m happy.”

“Of course we are,” MM told her. “It’s just you’re leaving New York soon. It wouldn’t be geographically desirable to fall in love here.”

“It is true,” Sven said somberly. “The broken heart is not a good souvenir from a trip.”

“Not to mention,” Lily had said, pointing upstairs to indicate the Contessa while shooting an uneasy glare in Sam’s direction.

But she might as well have spared him and pointed over her shoulder because the Contessa had appeared then, saying, “What is this I hear about a broken heart?” For a woman with such loud tendencies and noisy bangles, she had a way of sneaking up on you. She cupped Ava’s chin in her hand and tilted her face up. “You are not going to break the heart of my nephew, are you? This would be most distressing.”

“Of course not,” Ava mumbled as well as she could.

The Contessa released her chin and patted her on the head. “That is good. We would all be very sad if this were to happen.”

“I think that Ava should—” Sophia began, but quick as lightning the Contessa turned and put a finger over Sophia’s lips, silencing her.

“It is so pretty when it is quiet,” the Contessa said. “We all agree, no?”

Everyone else, even Sam, nodded.

“I have come here to discuss my entrance for the show,” she said. “I have been working with a designer, and here is what I think.” She snapped her fingers and Toma, who had been lingering behind her, stepped forward with a sheath of papers. The Contessa took them and unfurled them on the kitchen island.

“Is that a dog sled?” MM asked.

Sven said, “Those are not dogs. They are the wolf pack, yes?”

The Contessa beamed at him. “He is the smart of the group. Yes, they are the wolves. Dogs, I spit on dogs.”

Popcorn, who had been hiding his head beneath Ava’s arm since the Contessa had arrived, started to whimper.

“You’re going to arrive at the show on a wolf-drawn sleigh,” Sophia said, just to make sure she understood.

The Contessa nodded. “This way the Christopher Wildwood, he will know with whom he makes the mess.”

“I bet there are rules against have wolves running around Central Park,” Ava said.

The Contessa snapped her fingers. “It is a minor inconvenience. We will find a way. It’s good, no?” Everyone stared at her. “Good. You leave it to me, I will make it all work.”

“Maybe the thing in the living room is part of her sleigh,” Ava said to Popcorn now. “I didn’t think of that.”

Popcorn was too busy sniffing a planter to pay any attention to her. As they progressed down the street, Ava’s mind wandered to the essays they’d gotten for their contest. They’d decided to ask each person to describe a very good day, one they’d had or one they’d fantasized about. The entries had ranged from hilarious to heartbreaking—a picnic with friends; getting locked in the library overnight; butterfly catching; a family dinner with no fighting; seeing a parent who had been deployed in Afghanistan for the last eighteen months; graduation; a lunch with no bullying; dusk filled with the sound of croaking frogs; a tea party; a first kiss; a goodbye kiss; singing karaoke; baking bread with a grandmother; not having to share a bed with two sisters; visiting Mars; having a chance to say sorry.…

They’d known their viewers were talented but they’d been blown away and humbled. They had planned to pick ten girls but even Lucille had agreed that was “completely out of the question,” so they’d upped it to fifteen, with each girl wearing two looks instead of three.

Ava couldn’t wait to meet them. She and Sophia had been chatting and e-mailing with all of them and they already felt like friends. They’d arrive on Wednesday for initial fittings, do follow-ups and a press meet-and-greet on Thursday, and then walk in the show on—

Ava’s arm was suddenly wrenched hard and she found herself being dragged down the street at the end of Popcorn’s leash. He made a sharp left at the corner, then plunged diagonally into traffic. Ava’s life flashed in front of her eyes as a taxi came barreling toward her. She heard a screech of brakes on the slick, icy road, the yelp of Popcorn being crushed, and felt herself flying through the air before landing with a thud on the ground.

A ground that was strangely soft and a little squirmy. And also licking her face.

Ava opened her eyes and saw Popcorn on the pavement, unharmed, next to her. And below her, the slightly dazed, impossibly-better-looking-than-she-remembered face of Dalton. His green eyes sparkled against his winter tan and his lips were chapped and his body beneath her felt like a slab of marble.

“I should have known,” she said, thinking that Popcorn wouldn’t have performed those tricks for anyone else.

“Me too,” he told her. “I thought you would have learned not to let your dog loose in traffic by now. You almost got him killed.”

“Me? It’s your fault.”

He looked at her like she was crazy. “How is it possibly my fault?”

“The only reason he ran into traffic in the first place was to see you.”

“Incredible,” Dalton said. “You haven’t changed at all.”

“Neither have you,” Ava shot back.

He grinned, a dazzling ear-to-ear one, and said, “Ava London, I want to kiss you so badly it’s making my head spin.”

Ava felt a heart pounding against her rib cage but she wasn’t sure if it was hers or his. It was like none of the past few months had ever happened, not the theft, not their meeting in the park, not her kiss with Jax. Here, right here, with him, was where she should be. Where she should always have been. “Then why don’t you?” she said.

“Because our legs are sticking into the middle of a busy Manhattan street and I’m afraid someone is going to run over them,” he said.

Better-looking than she remembered, but still completely maddening.

LonDOs

Central Park Boathouse

Girls AS they are

Being rescued from near death

Tarte blush stick by Flaunt

Puppies who know their own minds

LonDON’Ts

Mysterious large objects in the living room with bodyguards

Saying anything you don’t want the Contessa to hear

Wolf-drawn sleighs

Puppies who don’t know the rules of the road

12

upper west byes

Ava had been so distracted by Dalton’s presence that she’d completely forgotten they were still lying on the ground where they’d landed after the close brush with the taxi.

“You’re exaggerating,” she teased, scrambling off him. “You’re only halfway into the street. We were also half on the sidewalk. I think you just didn’t want to kiss me.”

“That must have been it,” he agreed, standing up and moving his neck around.

“Are you okay?” she asked, not joking now.

He looked at her in a way that made her heart slow and let her know he felt it, too. “No,” he said. “I haven’t been since the way things ended with you.”

That brought back all the hurt and betrayal and confusion, all the reasons—pages and pages of them she kept in a secret file on her computer to remind herself—that she was glad she wasn’t with him.

But she would not get emotional. She would be cool and mature about this. As cool and maturely as she could she said, “Yes, losing you was hard for me as well. Especially with the way it happened—”

“That’s the worst part of it, Ava. That you believe I’d not only steal from you but set you up. At first I was so angry at the way it happened. But after some time went by, I realized I was looking at it all wrong.”

Popcorn’s jumping up and down around Dalton’s knees, trying to get his attention, refocused their attention. “I’d better carry him,” Ava said to Dalton, and bent to scoop Popcorn up. But as soon as she got him into her arms the dog squirmed into Dalton’s.

“It’s nice to know someone missed me,” he said, cradling Popcorn in one arm and taking Ava’s hand with the other.

Even though things were far from perfect between her and Dalton, she couldn’t deny how good it felt to be near him again, or the jolt of electricity—not a little spark like with Jax—that shot up her arm the moment his hand touched hers. “What are you doing here?” she asked tentatively.

“Coming to see Popcorn,” he told her.

Ava laughed despite herself
. Cool and mature!
a voice in her head called out. “You flew all the way to New York to see him?”

“Well, there’s also this gig my band agreed to do. A favor for someone at the label. It’s supposed to be good exposure, and I was hoping to reconnect with you and get a few things off my chest.”

“Why now? Why not before? Why were you so”—
Cool and mature!
—“standoffish that day at the park?”

“Because my lawyer told me that you and Sophia were the ones who had accused me of stealing the money, and you were the ones pressing charges.” He bent to let Popcorn jump down onto the street, but kept his leash, and didn’t let go of Ava’s hand. “Based on everything I was told, I thought either you two had set me up, or were covering for whoever did.”

Ava was chilled. “Why would we do that? You knew how I felt about you. That makes no sense.”

They paused while Popcorn sniffed a fire hydrant. “When they presented the evidence against me, it was like all reason went out the window,” he said, looking at her. “Nothing made sense anymore. Because based on what they had, even I would have thought I had taken the money, except I knew I hadn’t. But it looked like someone had gone to a lot of trouble to frame me. I felt like I couldn’t trust anything. Or anyone.”

Their fingers were twined together and they were walking next to each other as if they’d done this a dozen, a hundred times. Like this was how it was meant to be.

“I got a letter,” Ava said, getting excited. “An anonymous letter delivered to our house in LA. It said you were innocent and to ask about Xavier. Who is that?”

Dalton shook his head. “Xavier? I’ve never heard that name before.”

Ava’s excitement diminished. “Why would someone frame you?”

“I don’t know, and since the DA dropped the charges against me, I have the luxury of not thinking about it anymore.” He glanced at her. “That just happened last week, by the way. And you were the first person I wanted to see. Listen, Ava, I can’t prove I didn’t steal the money, though the police seem to think I’m innocent since they dropped the case against me. But the one person whose opinion matters the most still doubts the kind of person I am, and I can’t accept that. So even if this is the last time we see each other, and some other lucky guy gets to call you his girlfriend, then I guess that’s the way it’s meant to be. But you need to know one thing.” He continued to stare into her eyes with even more intensity than usual. “I would never,
ever
steal from anyone, especially not from you. I just need you to know that.”

And she did. Looking into his eyes, she knew in the deepest part of her that he was telling the truth. “I believe you, Dalton. But why didn’t you call? Or text?” she asked.

He smiled sheepishly. “I missed you too much for that.” His arm came around her waist and her head rested on his shoulder. “And I guess I was also a little afraid that if I called or texted, you’d tell me to get lost. Or that you were seeing someone else. Or that you changed your mind.”

“Even when I tried not to, I couldn’t get you off my mind,” Ava told him, tugging at a thread in his scarf. “I’ve missed you more than you know.”

He pulled her closer and she felt his lips on the top of her head. They walked on that way, back toward the apartment, not talking, just being together, and Ava felt like she was floating on a sea of pure happiness.

“There were nights when I was in prison that I dreamed of the way your hair smelled,” he told her. “That’s how I got through it.”

She pressed closer to him. They were approaching her door and she tipped her face up to say, “You said you and your band were playing a gig. Can I come?”

“I’m not sure of the protocol but I assume you can,” he said. “It’s a weird thing. We’re doing the music for some designer’s show. Christopher Wildman?”

“Wildwood,” Ava said, pulling away from Dalton.

“So you’ve heard of him,” he said.

Ava gaped.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asked. When she didn’t talk but just kept gaping, he appealed to Popcorn. “What did I say?”

“Christopher Wildwood is the man who is trying to ruin our lives,” Ava told him succinctly. “The number-one enemy. He who shall not be named.”

“We’ll pull out of the gig then,” he said. “That’s no problem. I really took it only for the excuse to come to New York and see you.”

That made Ava gulp. “But you said it was good exposure for the band.”

“We can expose ourselves some other way. I know how it feels to have someone trying to ruin your life. No way am I helping out your arch nemesis.”

Ava said, “I can’t ask you to pull out—”

“You don’t have to. Consider it done.”

“No,” Ava told him. “If you really want to help, keep the gig and let us know what he’s doing. We still haven’t been able to figure out how he got our designs. Maybe having someone on the inside—”

“Say no more. I’ll be your eyes and ears.” They stood facing each other, noses nearly touching. “Although right now I have to say, I’m more interested in your lips.”

“You still haven’t kissed me,” Ava reminded him. “Was that all just talk back there?”

He brushed his nose across hers and their lips touched.

It was like a lightning bolt went off between them, pulling them slightly apart. “I’ve never—” Dalton said.

“Me either,” Ava agreed, bringing her fingers to her lips.

“Let’s do it again and see—” Dalton broke off, frowning. “Your bottom is vibrating.”

“The meeting!” Ava said, slapping her hand over her mouth. “I completely forgot.” She pulled her phone out and saw it was five after ten. “I have to go,” she told him. “The Contessa is crazy about promptness. But we can pick up here, where we left off, soon, can’t we?”