by Ayers, Ava
I turned around and stared at him as I leaned against the car’s door.
“Do you want a fan or a girlfriend?” I said.
“Um, I guess I’d like a girlfriend who becomes a fan?” he said and stood up. “What do you want, Beth?”
“I’m looking at it,” I said and opened the door to the limo. “Call me tomorrow?”
“I will most definitely call you tomorrow,” he said and smiled.
As the limo made its way back toward JFK, I sent Ivory-Lou a text that I was on my way and that I was not a hysterical mess.
I leaned my head back against the headrest and looked out the rear window at the clouds. I thought of India, reduced to communicating through rocks and living in hydrangea bushes and of the night she ironically told me she’d rather live under a rock than under an illusion.
“Guess you got your wish,” I said and closed my eyes.
As I passed security and walked through JFK, I thought of the months I went through the worst of the pretty hate, what I did to myself and to other people. I thought of Tuesday’s Gone and Cut Dead and Declan and all of the girls I compared myself to. And finally, I thought of Nicolas and smiled.
And as I spotted my family sitting at a table at TGIFriday’s arguing with each other and causing a scene, I realized that all of that energy, the energy of trying to force things that don’t fit, forcing people who don’t fit, the force of all that wasted momentum won’t even nudge a feather from a rooftop.
People will always walk their own road and you cannot drag them onto yours. But, if you happen to wander into the path of a good person, you best take your mask off and shine or I promise, they will just walk on by.
* * *
EPILOGUE
That I’ve horrified many flight attendants across the globe with my oft-thought morbid ritual of listening to Tuesday’s Gone as we fly through the sky is not my concern. My declaration evident, my truth now burns: there is no preordained destiny to battle, I thumb my nose at fate. I am a warrior. The rules don’t apply.
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About The Author
Ava Ayers spends her days sunning on the shore of Sanremo and her nights fighting crime and changing the footwear choices of those with a propensity for pairing socks and Birkenstocks...or nothing like that. Mostly, she likes entertaining her readers with epic tales of lust, love and intrigue involving strong men and even stronger women--something very near and dear to her heart.
If you would like to receive information on new releases, promotional codes for free or discounted books or to chat with Ava Ayers, drop her a line at [email protected]. You can catch up with Ava Ayers by visiting her website at avaayers.com or following her on Twitter @AvaAyersAuthor.
Table of Contents
Foreword
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Epilogue