New Year's Next Door (Romance on the Go Book 0)

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New Year's Next Door (Romance on the Go Book 0) Page 1

by Amabel Daniels




  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2017 Amabel Daniels

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-518-0

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: JS Cook

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  For all of us who’ve been waiting for a new year and fresh beginnings. Hang in there.

  NEW YEAR’S NEXT DOOR

  Romance on the Go ®

  Amabel Daniels

  Copyright © 2017

  Chapter One

  After a final scan of Mom’s kitchen, Ava closed the dishwasher with a bump of her hip.

  She nodded her head a couple times to her imagined beat of Black Eyed Peas’ “I’ve Got a Feeling”.

  No more dirty plates in sight. Dinner leftovers chilled in a Tupperware stockpile in the fridge. Wine bottles lined the table, most half empty and re-corked.

  Half empty? She allowed herself a private smile. Nah. Half full. 2017 was a shitty year of epic proportions, and if she was going to follow through with ensuring 2018 would be the best possible, optimism was key.

  It had to be a better year. One couldn’t hit rock bottom twice in a row. And she refused to wallow at that depth a minute longer.

  “Mom?” Ava wiped her hands on her jeans and searched through the house for her mother. “Did you kick everybody out yet—”

  At the front door, her mother pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. A silent order to shut up along with poorly contained laughter twinkled in her eyes. “Ava, there you are.” Mom held her arm out, welcoming Ava for a side hug. “I was just wishing your great-aunt a safe trip home.”

  “Oh, right,” Ava said, sliding into Mom’s hug and facing the lingering guest. Funny. You said goodbye to her thirty-five minutes ago when I started cleaning the kitchen. “Drive safely. And Happy New Year!” She reached for the doorknob to expedite the woman’s exit. Bad enough everyone always forced Mom to host the New Year’s Eve family dinner, but refusing to leave was another issue.

  You’ve overstayed your welcome, Auntie.

  Before Ava’s fingers could operate the metal ball and shoo the lady out into the last December evening of the year, her wrinkly pale hand covered Ava’s grip, patting it twice in a condescending gesture.

  “Ava, it was nice to see you, dear. Just think, next time we meet, it will be at the wedding.”

  “Actually, no, it won’t.” How many times will I have to tell this damn story? “I called off my engagement.” There. That time she didn’t even stutter, or avoid eye contact. Explaining her non-pending marital status grew easier with each repeat. Screw their judgment.

  “Called off? But, but why on earth would you do such a thing?”

  Mom’s squeeze on her shoulder was slight but comforting nonetheless.

  Ava sighed. “Because I don’t wish to get married.” Her aversion to marriage wasn’t random. “To Tom, precisely.” Her choice of husband was the problem.

  “I don’t understand.”

  For the love of God. “Simple. I’m now single. Solo.” She held up her index finger. “Eine. Independent woman.” She finished it with a diva-like head bob. Mom coughed. Probably a laugh. At least she was amused at the pathetic Beyoncé attempt.

  “But Tom is such a…” Her relative wrinkled her forehead. “He’s such a polite young man and comes from a fine family.”

  She could have been referencing a pedigreed poodle for that matter.

  “And he’s been so successful at the bank.”

  Ava nodded. All night long she’d tolerated her family’s criticism, the insincere platitudes, and the ceaseless questions of why. Why she’d reject a future with the perfect son of the most prestigious family in the city. Someone who made much more than she could as a high school instructor. She’d let the shocked comments and pitying remarks in one ear and out the other. But enough was enough.

  God forbid Ava could dare to be content without a man. Gee. What a noble concept. Sure, companionship would be nice. And the “friend” in her nightstand didn’t compare to the real thing—attached to a dude who actually knew how to use it. But she wasn’t going to settle just because she should. True happiness was too rare not to chase.

  “Well, he’ll make some girl very happy one day,” Ava said with a rigid smile. Before the woman could reply, Ava forcefully hugged her, while opening the door and stepping closer to the exit. Hugging-shoving the lady out of the house, Ava thumped her hand on the back of her pea coat. “Please, have a spectacular, one-of-a-kind, lovely…” With each description, she checked how far they’d gotten outside. “… truly wonderful, remarkable New Year. Bye now!”

  After releasing the stumbling family member, Ava waved her arms out in a wide flourish, almost like a curtsy, and retreated into the house.

  Mom shut the door and Ava leaned back to it.

  “Thought she’d never leave.” Her mother went to the couch and plopped down.

  “Why do they always make you do this?” Ava pushed off the door and took the seat next to her. “You’re the only one who still works.”

  All her aunts and uncles were retired or never had to work because of advantageous marriages with sugar-daddies or -mamas. Just like her union with Tom would have been.

  Sighing, Mom shrugged. “Family duty? I’m a pushover? Who knows? I’m just happy it’s over.”

  Ah, nothing like the holidays to make great memories with family.

  Only they came for the food, nitpicked what fit in their health-nut dietary agendas, complained about politics, nagged Mom for failing to remodel the kitchen, harped on Dad for refusing to take their investment advice … scolded her for throwing away the ideal fiancé.

  Mom patted Ava’s knee. “Anyway, thanks for helping. It would have taken me forever to clean up.”

  “Least I can do.” She slumped down to rest her head on Mom’s shoulder, breathing in the scent of her familiar lavender perfume. “Are you working a full shift tonight?”

  “Might as well. Holiday pay, too. Besides, your dad is already out.”

  As if on cue, Dad snored abruptly from the recliner across the room. Sharing a laugh, Mom shook her head. “I don’t know if it was the turkey and wine, or my cousin’s lecture on his latest sabbatical that got to him.”

  Ava stood and stretched.

  “What time are Britney and Pam picking you up?” Mom asked, rising to her feet as well.

  “Not for a couple hours.”

  “I can’t remember the last time I saw them.”

  Childhood friends since third grade, the three girls were never far from each other. But like many relationships, they drifted as adults. Ava contributed significantly to the distance between the friends, always too busy—with work, or tutoring in her free time, helping Mom recover from knee surgery, assisting when Dad went through chemo…

  Ava guesstimated she’d last hung out with her oldest friends five months ago, when they’d met for lunch and Ava broke the news that she and Tom were no longer waiting to say “I do.”

  She followed Mom to the kitchen. “It will be nice to catch up,” Ava admitted. And it would be. Frustrated that she never seemed able to find a decent pocket of free time to go out w
ith them—or anyone—she was all the more giddy for tonight’s New Year’s Eve party that Pam’s husband put on for his company.

  Finally. At last a chance to get dolled up, see old friends, drink some alcohol, and say “Bye, Felicia!” to 2017. Maybe even meet a man. Flirting was a disaster with her sarcasm and directness. But it didn’t hurt to at least consider “getting out there.”

  She snatched her coat from the barstool she’d flung it on that morning and pushed her arms in. Mom rested her butt against the counter and crossed her arms. “You call if you need anything. A ride, or—”

  “Because I’m only thirty-four, right? And I’ve never been told not to drink and drive?” Ava smiled to take the sting out of her sass.

  “Smartass. You know what I mean.”

  Stepping closer to kiss Mom’s cheek, Ava agreed. “Yes, I do. And I love you too. Besides, Brit hired us a ride. Be careful at work, okay? Don’t lift too much.”

  “I’m the nurse, remember? I’ll take it easy, girlie. I’m still on light duty anyway.”

  They walked to the back door, closer to where Ava had parked her rusted minivan on the driveway. “Have fun tonight. You deserve it.”

  She waved at Mom as she left, excitement straining her cheeks, she grinned so much.

  On the twenty-minute drive home through Floridian suburbia, she paid no attention to the tired and half-fallen Christmas decorations people were too lazy to remove yet. Instead, she mentally rifled her closet, imagining different dresses and shoe combinations.

  Options were slim since most of her attire fell under matronly retro dresses—her go-tos for days of teaching German—not quite what she had in mind for a night of adult entertainment. Since she’d been dating or engaged to Tom for the last three years, she’d fallen into the realm of coupledom and staying home instead of hitting clubs and bars. The last time she’d sought out fun and fashionable garments was quite far in the past.

  Oh! There was one little black dress. Lacy at the hem, a halter top tie, few inches above the knee. Not too promiscuous but not conservative either. Perfect. Some loose waves. Shimmery eyeshadow. Smoky eyes. Deep-red lipstick. Her outfit became clearer in her mind as she turned into her driveway.

  Instinct had her glancing at the house next door. Those black heels, not the low ones, the ones with the strappy—

  The lights were on. It was enough of an unexpected change, that she halted listing her get-ready strategy. Sitting in her parked van, she blinked at the neighbor’s windows, the faint glow illuminated through the curtains on the first floor. From a living room, she’d guess.

  Snooping on the residents of her cul-de-sac wasn’t her prime pastime. But the enigma of her neighbor captured her curiosity in the sense of peeking at a forbidden wonder. Mr. Mysterious, she’d dubbed him, knowing at least the fact of his gender.

  As he always parked in his garage, she’d had a slim chance of actually seeing him. A few times, she’d caught a glimpse of him through his open front door as he signed for packages. Once she almost saw a complete profile of him as he leaned out the screen door from his back porch as he called for his muscled dog to come in.

  Those scant instances of witnessing a human were the only proofs that she, in fact, had a neighbor. Who he was, she had no clue.

  Never before, though, had the living room lights come on. Lamps were only ever turned on from an upstairs corner, perhaps a bedroom.

  Since the moving van appeared at his curb three months ago, Ava had assumed he either worked a graveyard shift somewhere or was running a meth lab in the basement.

  She hoped it was the former. A drug bust next door was the last thing she needed to complicate her already out-of-whack life.

  Shaking her head to clear her stare at Mr. Mysterious’s house, she turned off her piece-of-crap minivan—mauve, of all ungodly colors—and ran into her house.

  While she showered and dressed for the party, giddiness kept a lightness in her steps. Presenting a solo karaoke special while she checked her outfit and applied her makeup, she couldn’t tamp down her eagerness to simply have fun, let loose.

  But as the hand on the clock ticked by, her happiness faltered enough to allow worry to creep in.

  Where are you guys…?

  As she plopped to her couch, anxious for her ride to come, her phone buzzed in her hand—pausing the life hacks video she’d been mesmerized by while she waited.

  Ah ha. About time, ladies.

  Expecting a “be there in a min” message from Brit, Ava shot back up to her feet.

  Britney’s smiling face didn’t ID the number texting her. It was a local number she didn’t recognize.

  8:39: Hey girlie. Heads up. I forgot my cell at home. You can reach me at this # if you need me. (Jackie’s cell)

  Mom. Just her mom, checking in from her coworker’s device.

  A sigh forced its way out of her mouth as she sat back down again. Mom’s babying wasn’t that annoying. Hardly at all. Her friends’ late arrival was worrisome though.

  Dismissing her fascination of ingenious ways to modify a metal clothes hanger, she checked the time again.

  Hour and a half late.

  What the hell?

  Another buzz.

  Finally!

  Nope. Same local number as before. Mom via Jackie’s cell, sending a GIF of Lucy Ricardo smiling silly while sloshing champagne into a flute. Have fun tonight!

  Hard to have fun when I’m still waiting at home…

  Ava leaned forward, her elbows on her knees as she scrolled through her earlier texts to Brit.

  7:04: Can’t wait to see u guys tonight! A GIF of Emma Stone squealing followed.

  7:40: Ready to go with my ladies. She’d sent a meme about drinking with that one.

  8:21: Are you guys on your way?

  Britney never was the punctual one, but still… An hour and a half? Ava had been having too much mindless fun singing and dancing to her get-ready tunes to nitpick the time. God, that was one of the best things about living alone again: walking and dancing around naked or in underwear.

  Now that she was dressed and geared to leave, though, her friends’ delay screamed WTF!

  Am I missing something? Maybe she’d been so damn busy with Christmas and family dinner junk that Brit had tweaked the plans again?

  Last week’s group messages between Britney, Pam, and Ava remained the same, especially the concluding ones.

  Pam: Are you guys in for NYE? On the boat again?

  Brit: Hell yaaaas!

  Ava: Me too! Sounds awesome!

  Brit: I’ll get us an uber? K?

  Pam: K

  Ava: Good idea. What time?

  Brit: How about 8?

  Ava: Fine for me.

  Pam: No, make it 7.

  Brit: K. 7 it is. Can’t wait to see my bitches! GIF of girls dancing accompanied.

  Ava: See you then! A smiling emoji ended that one.

  The doorbell trilled. Again. And again. Like a kid pranking someone, or an impatient deliverer. Or an excited friend!

  Ava slid her phone into her clutch and hustled to the door.

  She threw the door open and started her best doofus-guy-hitting-on-a-chick face. “Hello there, good-look—”

  “What the hell is the matter with you?”

  Not Brit. Not Pam. A stranger, decked out in uber-reflective safety running attire, complete with a headband. He was a Ned Flanders kind of man, and a very irate one at that.

  “If you can’t keep your dog on your property you shouldn’t have one!” He straightened from hunching over the animal and jerked at the collar in his grip.

  “That’s not my—”

  “I didn’t even see it sleeping on your porch ’til it started chasing me. Scared the shit outta me!” He thrust the canine toward her. “Dark as hell out here!”

  If you’re scared of the dark while jogging maybe you should reconsider your schedule. Ava looked at the familiar tail-wagging pit bull and then narrowed her eyes at the man. “This isn’t
—”

  “I can’t even peacefully train for the marathon in my own damn neighborhood! I should call the cops on you!”

  “Listen, it’s not even—” The gray dog barreled past her, darting into her living room. Ava spun to face the runner. “That’s—”

  “Keep it inside if you can’t watch it. Damn killer dog. Those pits should all be put down.”

  Ava slammed the door in his face. If he wasn’t going to be civil enough to freaking hear her out, the explanation that the animal belonged to Mr. Mysterious one house over, she wasn’t going to grace him with her patience. Pits should be put down? Just because of their damn breed? How about marathon runners should be put—she huffed out a harsh breath to calm her murderous anger—in their place?

  “Humans weren’t designed to cover twenty-six miles. Newsflash, asshole. The cheetah would’ve devoured you already,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head.

  She stepped toward the click-clacks of nails on her tiled floor. “Hey, doggie? Where’d you go?”

  Vibrations at her hip distracted her, and she extracted her phone as she hunted down the adorable dog. It was an incoming call.

  “Ava?”

  Brit. About time.

  “Hey, lady. Almost here?” Now she only needed to return the dog to its home and then she’d be off to—

  “Um… No. We, uh…”

  “What?”

  “Well, we’re already on the boat. Got here like an hour ago.”

  Ava frowned as she heard the dog dashing through her house. “Huh?”

  “We didn’t realize you wanted to come.”

  What doesn’t make sense about “See you then!”? “Was there some kind of paper invite I should’ve RSVP’d?” She set her hand on her hip, ignoring the dog as she let the news sink in. Already on the damn boat?

  “Well, you’re always too busy for us. Every time we’d try to get together, you had something going on. I included you in the invite just to be nice. I didn’t think you’d actually reply.”

 

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