by Amber Lynn
Book one of the Avery Clavens series
Amber Lynn
Copyright ? 2012 Amber Lynn
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.
Author's note
The voices in my head told me to write this
I just want to start off by saying a big thank you to anyone who takes the time to read my story. This is the first of six stories centered on my main character Avery. As I'm sure a lot of writers do, I based her loosely on myself. Her name is in fact the last name of my favorite hockey player when I wrote the story. If there are any hockey fans out there, I imagine I just lost you, but I hope there are enough other readers to give me some feedback.
Further, I want to say I've never actual been to New York City, so some of the places I describe may or may not be accurate. Also, the characters in the book are all completely fictional and are based on people my mind created. Although, if Avery was a real-life character, I'm pretty sure she'd be my twin.?
In conclusion, thanks again for reading. I hope you enjoy.
?
Amber
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
CHAPTER 1
What are friends for? Really, please tell me because I have no clue
"I really need to just get away from it all." I sighed as I told Frannie about my latest work woes. My tales weren't the full extent of what was happening in my life, but they were all she'd get.
We were at our favorite little sidewalk cafe, Vincent's, having a nice lunch. I chowed down on a tuna fish on rye with a few extra pickles on the side, because of the weird love affair I had with pickles, and she nibbled on a chef's salad.
"Why don't you get away and go somewhere where the sun always shines? You can just sit and admire the view of washboard abs on the beach," she replied, and I winced. "Really, Avery, that job at the library has got to be the most boring occupation in the world."
I disliked talking about work with Frannie. When I was required to lie, it got kind of tricky. At least the particular lie getting ready to come out of my mouth was one I'd told many times, and I'd gotten good at telling it.
"But I love books and I love working with kids. I've never wanted to be a teacher, so it's the best of my dream worlds, for now. We've been over this before; when I can save up enough money, I'll get that cute little corner bookstore.
"And me in sun," I paused a second to laugh. "Have you seen how pasty white I am? I'm pretty sure I've seen pictures of Casper and me on those Photoshop look-a-like sites, with people commenting on how freakishly accurate the similarities are. I really don't think a vat of shellac could make me sit on the beach for more than a second."
"You know, sometimes I wonder how we can be friends. I mean we really couldn't be more different."?
She was right. Frannie looked like a supermodel. We're talking a five-nine, one hundred and ten pound, blonde haired and blue eyed gorgeous supermodel. As far as I knew, she'd never had to work a day in her life, and while I was all about books, she was into fashion.
She had a driver to cart her off anywhere she wanted to go in the city and a private jet sitting on the runway in case Paris or Milan telepathically told her she was needed there. Her father owned one of the most successful chains of hotels on the planet, so she really had no cares in the world.
I, on the other hand, defined the meaning of the word average. There's nothing special about a five-six, one hundred and forty pound, brown haired, blue eyed geek. The geek part could be considered a little special. Not that I really looked the geek part. No one ever saw me with glasses or a pocket protector.
I'd always been a little socially awkward and tended to relate more with characters in books than real people. The fake work I did at the library was supposed to be a research assistant type job. I mostly helped kids find information they needed for school reports, guiding them through the books and the Internet to find the most reliable and complete information.
At least that's what Frannie thought I did. Technically, my job was similar, but without little kids and she didn't have the clearance to know the branch of government that employed me. Okay, maybe the whole clearance thing wasn't technically true, but I felt my occupation was better kept a secret from my globetrotting friend.
I chuckled. I seemed to do that a lot as a way to hide my nervousness when we spoke about subjects I wasn't comfortable with.
"You're right. Why are we friends again? I bring nothing to this equation. Meeting at the gym and sharing jokes about the instructor's inability to enunciate properly is a very odd way to start a lasting friendship."
"How could we not start a friendship after finally figuring out where our bisons where located? That guy said 'feel that burn all the way deep in your bisons'. Obviously, by the way we were moving our arms, and the muscles I felt burning, I knew he meant bicep, but come on, no one else in the room even acted like he said anything funny. We had to become besties for that reason alone," she said with a hint of an evil chuckle. "Anyway, you wouldn't happen to want to go to the Rangers game tonight, would you?"
I happened to be a hockey nut, so the request made sense, but I got the feeling it was some kind of setup. Otherwise, she wouldn't have plastered her most innocent-looking expression on her face. I didn't really want to find out her wicked plans, but passing up a chance to see my boys live was insane.
"Hmm, I think I might be free. Are you going to the game and happen to have a spare ticket?" I asked as nonchalant as possible.
"Well, you know, since Daddy's friends with the owner of the team, he always has a few tickets available and I was going to go, but Gary decided he wanted to go more cultural tonight and see a play instead. He has a friend from out-of-town visiting and we were all going to go to, but I thought it might be fun for you since you're such a fan.
"It's me and Gary's three-month anniversary, so he thinks a night on Broadway is in order. I can't wait to see what he got me for a present. The earrings for our two-month anniversary were beyond beautiful," Frannie gushed.
Gary was a dashing lawyer and all-around nice guy. They met at some charity function and hit it off right away. I'd gone out with them quite a few times as a third wheel and in a way I was glad they'd be off being lovey dovey somewhere else.
"I guess if you aren't using the ticket, I won't turn you down." As I said that, I tried to figure out what wicked plan she was churning in her head, and then it hit me. "You mentioned a friend from out-of-town; tell me he's going with you to the play."
"You see, Nathaniel isn't really the cultural type. In fact, I hear he's more into sports, so it really would be cruel to make him sit through the play," she replied in a childlike voice, as if her treating me like I was five would make it better.
"Please tell me this isn't some sort of blin
d date you've engineered. You know how much I hate them. I can't talk to people I don't know. It just doesn't feel right and I get all flustered. You won't even be there as a buffer. I'm going to be permanently tomato red." I could feel my face already turning a nice shade of pink just thinking about it as I rambled on.
"It really won't be that bad. Like I said, he's into sports, so he might not notice you're there," she explained.
"Oh, that's reassuring. You're setting me up on a date where the guy will be talking more to the refs than me." I stopped and thought for a second. "Wait, you know that's actually kind of perfect."
"I know. You can hit the quarterly date quota I instituted for you and there's a good possibility you won't have to speak." Frannie quickly looked down at her expensive watch,?before glancing back at me with a huge smile on her face. "Look at the time, I have to run and get some shopping done. Here's your ticket. Have a great night and call me tomorrow with all the details."
She got up and rushed to her limo as I yelled, "Happy anniversary. Have a great night yourself."
I looked down at my ticket and saw that it was a great seat up a few rows from the players' bench. I had a feeling the "date" wasn't going to be as bad as I originally thought.