That Weekend...

by Jennifer Mckenzie

  “Are you disinviting me?”

  “No.”

  “Then I’d love to have dinner with you and your mother.”

  Ava sighed. “That’s because you haven’t met her yet.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  JAKE DIDN’T KNOW WHAT Ava had gotten herself so worked up about. Her mother was an intelligent and charming woman. Okay, so she wasn’t helping with the romance portion of the evening, but he figured there was still time for that.

  A nice dinner with her mother, followed by a nightcap at his place. He’d even changed his sheets.

  “Would you like something more to eat?” Barbara interrupted his fantasy about ravishing her daughter. Her smile belied the fact that she was brandishing a pair of silver spoons capable of being used as lethal weapons.

  “Please.” He thanked her after she loaded his plate with a third serving.

  The Thai food, which Ava had informed him was ordered in, was served from expensive-looking dishes that went with the crisp white tablecloth, silver candlesticks and elegant place settings. A crystal chandelier bathed the room in a shimmery light. Jake was impressed with the trick of putting the takeout into proper serving dishes. He was going to have to add that to his repertoire.

  Barbara placed more shrimp and noodles on Ava’s plate and then her own.

  “Mom, I said I was finished.” Ava scowled at the plate and then her mother.

  “You need to keep your strength up,” Barbara said. “You’re healing.” She sat down at the head of the table and cut the shrimp into a bite-size piece. “What did Dr. Merion say about your wrist when you saw her?”

  “Like you haven’t already talked to her yourself.”

  “Doctor-patient privilege,” Barbara said. “She wouldn’t tell me.”

  Ava smiled. “Have I told you how much I adore Dr. Merion?”

  Barbara had another bite of shrimp and stared at her daughter. Clearly, this was a familiar battle and reminded Jake a little of his own family. His mother and sister generally got along well—too well when it came to discussing his life—but their closeness occasionally gave way to meaningless bickering. He’d learned to stay out of it, as they were fiercely loyal to one another and didn’t value any input. He’d lay money on the fact that Ava and her mother were the same.

  The staring contest continued for another moment until Ava blinked. “I’m fine. The wrist is fine. Dr. Merion said that everything is fine. Happy?”

  “Quite.” Barbara nodded. “I want only the best for you, dear.”

  “Lucky me.”

  Jake hid his grin. He didn’t think Ava would appreciate it. “Would either of you care for some more wine?” he asked.

  He’d insisted on stopping at the liquor store on their way to her mother’s house. Ava had told him that her mother would have already selected something to match the meal, but he wouldn’t be deterred. Especially not after she mumbled something about how her mom would probably fall in love with him.

  Never a bad thing to get the mother onside.

  He would have stopped for flowers, too, but Ava had told him if he did, she was catching a cab and he could just go hungry. He relented. No point in getting on the mother’s good side if it meant getting on the daughter’s bad one.

  The wine now sat in a metal ice bucket on a stand beside the table. He pulled it out and offered it around.

  “Thank you, Jake,” Barbara said. “A little more would be lovely.”

  “I would like a lot,” Ava said, holding out her empty glass.

  “Ava,” her mother chided, “do you really think that’s a good idea?”

  “I do.” They stared at one another.

  Jake could see where Ava had gotten her petite figure and coloring. As well as her attitude. Their chins jutted toward each other in mirror images.

  He poured a small glass for Barbara, a larger one for Ava.

  “Fine—” Barbara waved a delicate hand “—but don’t complain if you don’t feel well tomorrow.”

  “I never complain,” Ava said.

  Jake felt the corners of his lips start to rise. Ava kicked him lightly when he sat back down. He rubbed his shin and sent her a look. Did she really think he’d say otherwise? Did he look stupid?

  “Tell me about your job, Jake.” Barbara sat upright, her posture perfect as she sipped. “Ava says that you’re an executive producer.”

  “I am.” Jake went on to explain the details that came with his position.

  “You’re rather young to have the position, aren’t you?”

  It set his teeth on edge. Too close to the comments he’d heard about his career for the past ten years. But he trusted that Ava hadn’t said anything about his background to her mother. A belief borne out by the horrified look on her face. He kept his tone light. “Not particularly. The entertainment industry is a young field. It’s important that the decision makers are in touch with the youth demographic.”

  Barbara nodded. “But still, you must have worked hard to reach your position at such a young age. You must be thirty? Thirty-one?”

  “Thirty-five.”

  “Mom, enough with the third degree.”

  “I was merely making conversation,” Barbara told her daughter before sending Jake a pleasant smile. “However, I apologize if I’ve offended you.”

  “Not at all.” He wouldn’t say it had offended him, just brought up some emotions he’d rather not deal with at the moment. “I’m actually looking to make a change in my career.”

  Barbara raised one pale eyebrow at her daughter. “Really? Ava didn’t mention that.”

  “Mom, you’re making it sound like I spend my days and nights talking about Jake. Which I don’t. And besides I only found out recently.”

  “Interesting.” Barbara dabbed her lips with a cloth napkin before she turned back to Jake. “What sort of change?”

  “You don’t have to tell her,” Ava said. “She’s being nosy.”

  “I’m showing interest,” Barbara corrected.

  Jake figured he knew where Ava got that part of her personality, too. “I don’t mind,” he said. “I’m starting my own production company.” He briefly explained the plan. “Ava was actually helping me shoot a pilot today.”

  “Was she?” This time both of Barbara’s eyebrows went up.

  “I was.” Ava lifted her chin. “For a travel show Jake is producing.”

  “I imagine that will be good for your career, dear,” Barbara said. “You can use it on your, what is it you call that, B-roll?”

  “Demo reel,” Ava corrected. “B-roll is the extra footage we shoot to intercut with the story during editing.”

  “Demo reel.” Barbara turned to look at him, assessing. “Or perhaps something with this new production company you’re starting?”

  “Mom. Enough. I didn’t ask Jake to come over here so you could grill him about my career prospects.” She glanced at him, embarrassment and irritation warring on her face.

  Jake made his lips turn up in a smile. He couldn’t assume that Barbara was acting as Ava’s mouthpiece. That was twice now that she’d looked less than happy with her mother’s questions. But it niggled at him.

  “We’ve only shot the pilot so far. Now that I have an actual show I’ll start pitching it to possible buyers. The airlines. And looking for investors.”

  “Shouldn’t you have looked for funding before shooting the pilot?” A delicate frown marred Barbara’s features.

&nbs
p; “Mom,” Ava moaned.

  “That’s true.” Jake’s fingers tightened around his fork. “I have been meeting with people, but sometimes it takes a while to find the right backer.”

  “So you’ll be working at the television station and doing this on the side?”

  He felt as if he was sitting in front of his father, answering as best he could and not meeting expectations. “No, I’ve decided to give my full attention to the production company. My contract with the station ends next month.”

  A short pause, but one that was rich in meaning. “Oh. Well, that sounds very exciting. Don’t you agree, Ava?”

  Ava mumbled something around the noodles she’d stuffed in her mouth and refused to look him in the eye. Jake tried not to let it eat at him. But he wasn’t very successful.

  He’d been clear that Ava was only working on the pilot, hadn’t he?

  * * *

  “YOU WERE A NIGHTMARE,” Ava said to her mother. She’d called as soon as Jake had dropped her off that night.

  After being forced to endure pie and coffee and more of her mother’s interference disguised as polite conversation, the idea of continuing the date with Jake had been kind of shot. When the dinner was over, he’d just driven her to her apartment and walked her to the lobby door. That had hurt and there was no question at whose feet she should lay the blame.

  “Asking all those questions about his job, hinting around that you didn’t approve. Why did you do that?”

  “I didn’t do anything, dear. I merely asked what his plans were.”

  “You said they sounded interesting. You might as well have said they were doomed to fail.” Jake hadn’t even hung around long enough to kiss her good-night. Not even a peck. Mood Killer Barbara Christensen strikes again.

  “Stop exaggerating. I do think his plans sound interesting. But, Ava, dear, I hope you weren’t planning to follow in his footsteps. It’s all well and good to quit your job for a guaranteed position somewhere else, but it didn’t sound like Jake was offering that.”

  “That isn’t any of your business.” And she could quit if she wanted. “How many times do I have to tell you that it’s my career and my life? I know you love me and you’re only trying to help, but enough.”

  “If you would just—”

  “Mom—” Ava was losing hold of her rapidly fraying patience “—I’m not you. I tried it your way and it sucked.”

  “Language, dear.”

  “It was awful,” Ava repeated. “I studied economics in school because you thought accounting was a stable career and worked in an accounting firm after graduation. I hated it and I was miserable.”

  “You didn’t give that job a fair chance. You’d made up your mind before you even started.”

  “Because I hated my four years at university, too.” Really, if it hadn’t been for Jilly dragging her out to parties and showing her there was more to Friday nights than whatever two-decades-old movie happened to be on TV, she’d probably still be hunched over a desk, crunching numbers. “My job at the station is the best thing that ever happened to my career.”

  “I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

  “I would.” And it had just fallen into her lap.

  She’d been complaining about her day to Jilly and wishing her life was more like the celebrities’ she read about in the magazines when Jilly had mentioned there was a reporting position open at the TV station she worked at. She’d encouraged Ava to put together a fake story and had delivered it to Harvey herself. Three weeks later, Ava had a new job. It was the first time in years that she’d gone off list, and she promised herself she’d never go back on. A promise she’d managed to mostly keep.

  “I have my own way of doing things, Mom, and just because it’s not the way you would do it doesn’t make it wrong.”

  “I never said you were wrong, dear.”

  “No, you just acted like it. Why can’t you trust me?”

  “I do trust you. I simply don’t want to see you make a mistake.”

  Ava rolled her eyes even though her mother wasn’t there to see the effect. “I’m not making a mistake. I helped Jake with his pilot. That’s it.”

  “Is that really all?”

  Her heart thumped and her whole body felt hot. She pushed open the window in her living room. “Of course that’s all.” It was still dry outside, but the scent of rain hung heavy. She sucked in some of the thick air. “What else would there be?”

  “I saw the way he looked at you.”

  “He didn’t look at me any way.” A tickle of pleasure joined the cool breeze coming in through the window. Maybe she’d misunderstood Jake’s platonic good-night. Maybe he’d just been really tired.

  “He looked at you. And you looked back.”

  Ava dragged her attention back to her mother. “There wasn’t any looking. At least, not the kind you’re implying.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure.” She shoved away any feelings of guilt about lying. It would be a billion times worse to talk about her sex life—not that she had one to speak of yet—with her mother. “We’re friends.”

  “Ava, I’m not a fool and I don’t appreciate you treating me like one.”

  “No one is treating you like a fool.”

  “I know what that look means, and I’m concerned. Do you have plans to quit the station and join his show?”

  “I’m not quitting the station.” She wasn’t just telling her mother what she wanted to hear, either. For the time being, she planned to work at the station during the week and fly off to be with Jake on weekends. Once the show took off, it would be a different story. And then she was asking for shares.

  “Well, I’m glad to hear you haven’t let your hormones take over entirely. Have you slept with him?”

  “Mom. I wouldn’t answer that even if it were your business.”

  The relief in her mother’s voice was evident. “Then you haven’t. Good. Keep it that way.”

  “You know, it’s bad enough that you insist on deluging me with professional advice, now you think you have the right to run my personal life, too?”

  “You work with him,” her mother said as if that answered everything.

  “Only for a few more weeks.”

  “A few more weeks isn’t very long to wait.”

  No, it wasn’t. But it was her choice. “Mom, I can make my own decisions.” The low wind from outside did its best to cool her cheeks, but Ava still felt hot. Very hot. She stripped off her sweater. “What I choose to do with or about Jake is my own business.”

  “Don’t be rash, dear. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m just telling you what I’ve learned over the years.”

  “About having a relationship with someone in the office?” Ava pushed the window open wider. “When have you ever done that? When have you had a relationship with anyone besides my father?”

  “I didn’t have a lot of free time.”

  “Then,” Ava pointed out. “But what’s your excuse now?”

  “An office romance is doomed to fail.”

  Ava avoided bringing up the example of Meredith and Derek on Grey’s Anatomy. Her mother would be less swayed by the hospital drama than she had been. “So it’s a good thing I’m not having one.” Yet. “Rest easy.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s something I would know.”

  “A romance doesn’t have to just mean sex.”

 
; “There is nothing going on.” Well, except for that amazing kissing. And touching. She lowered her forehead against the glass.

  “You should probably refrain from seeing him socially for the time being.”

  “Are you serious?” Even the whip of cool air couldn’t prevent her temper from rising now. “Now I can’t even be friends with him? What else, Mom? Should I cut him off and go into hiding?”

  “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

  “I come by it honestly.” She couldn’t believe her mother. Well, no, she could. This was typical Barbara Christensen. And it always brought out her defiant side. “What would be so bad about me having a relationship with Jake anyway? He’s a great guy.”

  “He seems very nice, but—”

  Ava cut her off. “He has a lot going for him. He’s not some jobless vagrant looking for a sugar mama. He’s polite and kind. I like him.” Saying it out loud felt good. Really good. “And if I want to do something about it, it’s my decision.” Why was she waiting anyway? Because her mother thought it was best? What did her mother know about it? “You can’t stop me.”

  “You’re being childish.”

  She probably was. She also didn’t care. A few weeks, schmoo weeks. Why was she sitting around in her apartment alone, when there was a great guy waiting for her? Why was she still letting her mother’s beliefs dictate her life? Hadn’t she been letting that happen long enough? “I have to go.”

  “Ava.”

  “I love you, Mom.” But it was time she started making the decisions that she wanted. “I have to go.”

  She hung up on her mother midsentence and turned off the phone.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  JAKE LOOKED SURPRISED to find her at his door. Ava couldn’t blame him. She hadn’t bothered to call or text, hadn’t bothered to do anything except put on a coat and shoes before she headed out of her apartment and up to Granville Street, where she flagged a taxi.