“You got a guy?”
There’s a slight pause. “Thought it’d be better that way. Tabloids can’t make shit up about how I’m having an affair with the new assistant. Anyw—”
“They’ll start saying you’re secretly gay.”
He snorts. “Like anyone’s gonna believe that. Anyway, the moron sent out invitations to all the plus-ones.”
“Okay. So?”
“He invited Faye last week. And she accepted.”
“Ah, jeez…”
“Yeah. To make things worse, he made it sound like I want her to come, like it was a special separate invitation.”
“So she’s going to show.”
“Well, you said the breakup wasn’t awkward. And people do have this thing about hanging out with celebrities.”
“This isn’t good.” I run a hand over my face. Ava isn’t exactly crazy about Faye, and I’m sure her foster parents aren’t either. How the hell do I explain Faye’s presence at a holiday dinner that’s supposedly family only? “Can you rescind?”
“Kinda tough to do. The dinner’s tomorrow, and it’s already after ten. I just found out.” He sighs heavily. “That idiot’s totally fired. Let’s just hope Faye doesn’t show. She might not, ’cause you guys are broken up…and she knows you’re back with Ava, right? Plus, I’ll text her tomorrow, make sure she knows you’re bringing Ava. Maybe Faye’ll get the hint that it won’t be comfortable if she comes.”
I purse my mouth. I don’t like it, but Ryder has a poi
nt. Faye made it clear she wants to be my friend, and doesn’t wish me anything but best. Although Ryder—jaded bastard that he is—believes she can’t possibly mean that, I do. She’s never done anything to make me doubt her friendship.
But as I hang up, a nasty feeling starts forming in my gut.
Chapter Thirty-One
Ava
Darcy and Ray sneak out of the bedroom at seven. “You’re up early,” I say. Both of them are in flannel pajamas, Darcy’s pink and Ray’s dark burgundy.
She winces. “Sorry, we were trying to be quiet so you could keep sleeping.”
“It’s okay.” I sit up on the couch. “Jet-lagged?”
“A little. We were up around five and read for a while. But I’m getting hungry now.”
Uh oh. Breakfast. “I only have some bread…and a few eggs.”
“Got any syrup?”
“Maybe a few packets from takeout places.”
Ray tut-tuts. “You ever cook?”
“I’ve been really busy at work.”
“That man isn’t bringing home-cooked meals to you?”
I chuckle at his disgruntled expression.
Darcy sits by me, her legs tucked under her. “How did the reconciliation come about? I was shocked, but we haven’t had a chance to really talk.”
“It’s…sort of a long story.” I tell them about how Lucas and I ran into each other in L.A. and the things I’ve learned about him—and myself—since, while Ray putters around my humble kitchen, putting together breakfast and coffee and listening with one ear.