“You’re a piece of work, you know that?” I asked.
But then, a movement caught my attention out of the corner of my eye.
I turned my head over toward the shadow, but there was no one over there. I studied the darkened corner and could’ve sworn I saw the outline of someone there, but Ava’s voice pulled me back to the conversation.
“I try to be,” she said. “My favorite color’s yellow, by the way.”
“For your sunny disposition?” I asked.
“No. Because I really like lemonade,” she said.
The two of us sat there and talked for hours, but now I had this darkness looming over me. It felt like someone was watching us. Like someone knew we were sitting together. I wasn’t sure why that weirded me out as much as it did, but I tried my best not to alert Ava to my worry. With everything mounting between my family’s company and Breathline Energies, I had to prepare myself for the idea that someone might be watching what I was doing.
“Travis? You okay?”
“What?” I asked.
“You look a bit dazed,” I said. “Am I boring you already?”
“Nope. You were talking about how if you went to college, you’d get a business degree, wait out your parents, then take your family’s company over anyway,” I said.
“So you were listening,” she said, grinning.
“To you? Yes,” I said.
I looked back over at that corner and it was now filled with people. The corner was no longer dark, and in its place was a shelving of books and board games. I shook the feeling from my mind as Ava continued to talk about all the things she wanted to do with her life. I needed to not get so paranoid.
After all, it wasn’t like I was doing anything that could get my family’s company in trouble. Just having some coffee with a beautiful woman with a fire in her gut to make something of herself.
There was nothing wrong with that.
Nine
Ava
The library was quiet this morning. People came and went with checkouts and returns, but I was tucked away in my little corner. It was my favorite spot in all of Kettle. Well, the part of Kettle I knew. My father kept close tabs on me whenever we were in town. Always wanted to know where I was going, what I was doing, why I was doing it, and when I would be back. Things were a little looser whenever we were in Seattle, but that was mostly because I had a driver to cart me around everywhere.
I knew the driver reported back to my father on our whereabouts.
But in Kettle, I was granted more freedoms. I could drive on my own and even go out with my brothers. But if I did, I had to be very specific with what was happening, and my brothers came under scrutiny whenever we came home. So, I didn’t go out much with them. I hated subjecting them to that kind of torture whenever we would come in from dancing or hanging out at the coffee shop.
The library was my favorite place for two reasons. One, my father would let me stay here as long as I wanted for reasons I still didn’t understand. And two? It was quiet. No questions. No judgement. And certainly no risk of impropriety anywhere. I would tuck myself away in my favorite corner with the latest books the library shipped in and I would read. For hours. It was how I escaped. It was how I envisioned other lives for myself. It was how I learned about the great businesswomen and how they succeeded in their lives.
All of my education came from books. My understanding of the business world. My understanding of mathematics. My understanding of politics and history and love. All of it came from the books that surrounded me. Here, no one kept up with me. Here, no one tried to influence what I read. Here, I was allowed to make my own decisions regarding where I wanted to sit, how I wanted to sit, and what I wanted to read.
I loved the library.
But sometimes, it was shit.
Like today, for instance. Word had already circulated that I had been in a car accident. I didn’t know how, and I didn’t know who started it, but everyone who saw me in my little corner came up and asked me if I was all right. If the storm had caught me off guard. They asked me all sorts of things, like what roads I had gotten lost on and what roads I needed to stay away from. It seemed that everyone in Kettle knew I had broken down somewhere and floundered during the storm.
I just hoped and prayed they didn’t understand anything more than that.
Kettle was a smaller town. It spanned the length and width of many mountains, but very few people lived here. So gossip spread like wildfire. And if you didn’t want to be caught up in it, then you didn’t come into town. Ever. But if I wanted the library, I had to come into town. Which meant I was met with people who kept interrupting me every page just to make sure I was okay.
Which was code for “figure out exactly what happened.”
“Miss Ava, I’m so glad you’re all right.”