I turned to her in surprise, and when our eyes met, I knew that even though she had no idea about his epilepsy, she could see through my concern.
“His …” I hesitated. “His health has not been great lately.”
I was surprised at my own honesty. I hadn’t seen Ava inyears, but speaking a part of the truth to her came naturally to me.
“Oh, Brody,” she muttered, and for a split second, she put her hand on mine.
The touch was warm, her hand soft, and it left me with a longing for more. She took it away in an instant and looked flustered just as I stared at the back of my hand, where goose bumps raged.
My cousin was probably in the hospital, but all I could think about was a certain woman’s touch.
The elevator jolted to a stop, and Ava swayed at the sudden movement and gripped my arm tight to keep herself upright.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, her voice shaking.
I nodded and pressed the button to reach the operator. “Jim,” I called out to our operator. “The elevator’s stuck between floors ten and eleven.”
We were in the block between the two floors, which meant we couldn’t see outside. Ava hated enclosed spaces. She’d been claustrophobic for as long as I could remember.
“I’m on it, boss,” he called back chirpily.
I looked over at Ava, whose legs were trembling as she leaned against the side of the elevator.
“Hurry up, if possible,” I told him before I turned back to her.
“Can you please sit down?” I said, helping her down and sitting next to her.
Her arm brushed against mine as she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. “We’ll be okay. We’ll be okay,” she muttered to herself but sounded like she wasn’t buying it.
God, I needed to distract her with something.
“Did you know, when I invested in The Galley, I had noidea we’d be thrown together like this?” I said, speaking the truth as an easy way out.
Before I could speak, Ava turned around, her amber eyes looking back at me with something like vulnerability.
“You mean, you haven’t googled me in the past few years?” Ava asked. “I’m not surprised.” Her eyes were narrowed, and there was a crease on her forehead between her eyebrows. But her legs were still twitching.
“Well,” I said, eager to keep her focus away from the elevator situation even if it meant digging up a past I was scared to revive, “did you google me?”
She gave a look that was part hurt and part shame. “I used to,” she admitted in a low voice. “Up until a few years ago. Weren’t you a venture capitalist? At the Lead Capital Group? That was the last I remembered reading about you before Mom and I moved back to New York. We were still struggling to get her restaurant going, and … well, reading about your success wasn’t easy.” Her eyes met mine. “I’m sorry. That makes me sound jealous and obsessed.”
I shook my head. “It makes you human, Ava,” I added, a little impressed and more than a little flattered. “You’re right though. Luxe Hotels is owned by the Lead Capital Group. In addition to our financial investment in Luxe, I also took over as CEO to provide direction and managerial expertise.”
“Oh.” A complicated expression crossed her face, and she looked away for a minute. “That explains it then,” she said in a low voice.
Before I could respond, the elevator beeped, and her face contorted in visible distress.
“Oh God,” she muttered, “what does the beeping mean?”
I took her soft, warm hand in mine. “It means Jim is doing his very best to get this going.” Which meant we had roughly five minutes left before this elevator got going.
“How did you and your mom decide to move to New York?” I asked, remembering that she used to live in Austin.
“Mom had a friend who was looking to sell that restaurant three years ago. We decided to go for it.”
“Ray, your previous investor, invested in the restaurant with your mom,” I said, remembering the details now.
Her shoulders fell back down, and she nodded. “Yes,” she said, sounding dejected. “I always hoped I could buy him out myself, sometime down the line.”
