“I’m not sure there’s a better word. Success requires effortand not just in the workplace. What about with Aaron? Are you drifting there, too? You don’t have a life plan, yet you plan to marry him. What exactly will you bring to the table?”
Shannon felt a flicker of annoyance and hung on to it with both hands. “I love Aaron, and I’m good for him. We’re a strong couple. You don’t know either of us well enough to judge our relationship.”
Ava didn’t look convinced. “If you say so.”
“I do say so.”
They looked at each other for a few seconds, then Shannon glanced away before standing.
“I won’t take any more of your time. I just wanted to thank you.”
“Of course. I was happy to help. I’ll walk you out.”
They started for the front of the building. As they approached the door, Ava turned to her.
“Your mother believes in you. She would do anything for you, and her love is forever.”
“I know. She’s amazing.”
“She would want to know about the engagement.”
Shannon smiled tightly. “I appreciate you sharing your opinion. Have a nice day.”
With that, she ducked out and raced for her car. When she was safely inside, she carefully locked the doors and sucked in a breath.
Everything about her encounter with Ava had been awful, she thought as she drove away. The woman was a terror. No wonder Victoria was so strong. She had to be in order to survive.
Victoria studied her completed Lego blue morpho butterfly. It had come out surprisingly beautiful with pretty flowers around the base. Javiar’s beetle was uncomfortably lifelike and apparently true to size.
“I don’t want to be anywhere those are,” she told him, touching the giant pincher. “That thing looks like it has the jaw strength to not just break skin but possibly crush a bone.”
“I’d protect you.”
She grinned at him. “Yeah, I think you’d be running and screaming like a little girl.”
“I wouldn’t be screaming.”
“Oh, you would. I don’t even have to close my eyes to imagine it.” She got up and carried her Lego over to the TV cabinet and placed it on one of the shelves. “I’ll leave it there until I win my Oscar.”
“Good plan. Speaking of your Oscar, how’s the screenplay coming? Last time you said it wasn’t going well.”
She returned to her seat. “Let’s not talk about my work. Currently it sucks.”
“Why is there suckatude? It can’t be a lack of talent.”
“Thanks for pretending you have a clue about my ability when in fact you don’t. I could be a really lousy writer.”
“You’re not. You like to excel, so if you were bad, you would either work until you were good or you’d find something else to do. Mediocrity isn’t your jam.”
“You’re right, it’s not.” She slumped back in her chair. “I’m having trouble with a scene. It’s just so stupid. Everyone keeps telling me I have to bleed on the page.” She looked at him. “That means I have to open myself emotionally and barf up a bunch of feelings. No one is asking for actual blood.”
“I kind of figured that.”
“Okay, well, youarea layperson, so I wasn’t sure.”
He grabbed her hand in his and laced their fingers together. “So why can’t you bleed?”
“Because I’m emotionally shallow.” She stared at their joined hands. “What are you doing?”
