Leaning forward on his elbows, he asked, “Why did you move up your retirement?” He wondered if Mom would answer his question honestly, or at all. Fear clutched his chest for the briefest moment that maybe she had bad news to share with him. “Is there something I need to know?”
“I’m not dying, if that’s what you mean,” she answered with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“Then why?”
“It’s time.”
The answer wasn’t good enough. Far from it. But Brayden expected it just the same. That was Mom, always firm in her decisions, but never clear why. She didn’t feel she owed anyone a full explanation. He was almost disappointed Ava wasn’t here to witness this conversation. She’d understand where he picked up his vague answer habit if she were sitting beside him to witness this exchange.
“I’m leaving on a flight tomorrow evening,” Mom continued after they ordered beverages and a second appetizer. “I want you on it with me. I’ve already booked you a first-class ticket. The corporate Christmas party is Wednesday night. I need you there when I make the announcement.”
ChapterNine
Ava
The moment Ava locked the restroom door behind her, she sank against the cedar planks and forced deep inhales and exhales. It might’ve helped if Brayden had warned her that his mom was some corporate big wig who’d show up to dinner with a perfectly pressed suit top and skirt, immaculate hair and makeup, and a laptop. Everything about her appearance was crisp and pristine. Exquisite jewelry glistened in the soft lighting. Even her lipstick was the perfect shade, applied in an expert manner.
She understood his warning now. Pamela Young’s reading glasses were likely more expensive than Ava’s nicest dress. “Deep breaths,” she repeated aloud, forcing herself to the sink to splash cool water on her burning cheeks.
Ava was only nervous because she cared that people liked her. She was friendly and kind, and never thought ill of anyone—well, except maybe Ed, but he’d eaten her scarf—and she didn’t care for it when someone disliked her without knowing anything about her. The judgmental sweep of Pamela’s eyes when she first realized Ava was crashing their dinner was burned into her memory.
Maybe it was for the best she and Brayden had never been on that real date because right now, Ava wasn’t certain how she’d handle his mom if they were actually a couple. She still didn’t feel welcome. She felt like an intruder.
“But it’s fake,” she reminded herself. “I just have to play a part.” Clearing her throat, she stared intently at herself in the mirror. “Ava Monroe,” she said, pushing past her frayed nerves and searching for her confidence, “there’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s fake. All of it. So what if Brayden’s mom is some corporate big shot with eight-hundred-dollar heels? I have bigger problems than Pamela Young. Much bigger problems. You just have to be you. Sweet, friendly, and full of small-town charm and holiday spirit. Your job is to save him from her overbearing ways, just like he’s going to save you from Mom. Be. Your. Self.”
Confidence restored, Ava marched out the door.
Pivoting around the tight corner toward the dining room, Ava let out a squeak when she nearly plowed someone over. She stumbled a couple of steps back, professing apologies as she saved her purse from slipping all the way off her arm. Then she looked up. “I’m so sor— Wait. Mom?”
“Ava dear!” Mallory Monroe’s face lit up brighter than the twelve-foot lodge Christmas tree half a second before she pounced and trapped Ava in a suffocating hug. “I had no idea you’d be here at the lodge. I thought you’d be working.” Mom pulled back, leaving her hands cupped on Ava’s shoulders tightly enough to warn Ava there was no escape. “Why aren’t you working?”
“I’m having dinner with Brayden and his mom.” A glance into the dining room warned her she’d stayed gone too long. The expressions between mother and son were much too serious and downright unsettling. Ava took a risk. “Why don’t you join us? You have to be starving.”
“I don’t want to intrude.”
Ava swallowed a laugh, hoping Pamela would be mortified by Mom’s Christmas wreath-themed sweater. It wasn’t even her selection for the Christmas sweater party, just part of her everyday holiday collection. “We haven’t ordered entrees yet. C’mon.”
“You must be Mrs. Monroe.” Brayden pushed out of his chair so quickly it rocked on its back legs. Appeared she wasjustin the nick of time. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
As expected, Mom tossed both arms around him and squeezed. Brayden recovered his shock quickly and returned the hug with gusto. Ava secretly enjoyed Pamela’s annoyance, but she also pitied the woman who didn’t appreciate a good, solid family-style hug to a cold handshake.
“It’s so good to finally meet the man who’s stolen my daughter’s heart at long last. I thought she was going to marry that store until you came along. You haven’t been letting her work too hard, have you?”
“Holidays are busy, you know,” Brayden said, freeing himself of her hold and putting his arm around Ava. “I keep her fueled up on coffee so she can keep up with the booming demand.”
“Good, good. Oh, and you must be Brayden’s mother. Oh, you’re so lovely!” Mom cooed, undeterred though Pamela hadn’t stood. She wrapped her arms around Pamela’s shoulders and squeezed, completely ignoring the extended hand and panicked expression of her victim.Good for you, Mom.
“I hope you don’t mind an extra guest,” Ava said to Pamela, taking her seat. “I wasn’t sure what time my mom was arriving. Haven’t heard from her in hours.” Ava pointed her stare at Mom, waiting for an explanation.
“I found a new Christmas CD I just love while I was out shopping. Got a little caught up in the holiday spirit during the drive down. Figured you were busy enough with the store.” Mom waved down the server and ordered her usual lemonade. “Wasn’t even sure I’d be on my feet the rest of the night, but I’ve hit my second wind.”
“Delightful,” Ava mumbled.
“Did Ava tell you about her Christmas baskets that are constantly selling out?” Brayden said.
Ava resisted the urge to stomp on his foot. Now wasnotthe time.
“What is he talking about, Ava dear?”
