“I enjoy it,” I countered wryly. “Where’s Mia? I wanted to thank her again for the help with the spreadsheets. The guys have been sending me regular updates.”
“Oooh, I’m glad it worked,” Ava said enthusiastically. “I know you’ve been busy, and I was wondering.”
Shifting in my seat, I avoided her look. I knew she was curious — she had every right to be — and I knew that Jett would have told her nothing. I liked Ava, I did, but this wasn’t something she needed to know. “Yeah, the sheets were a hit.”
“It sucks so bad Gray’s out for the month,” Ava said as she scrolled through her phone. I knew she wasn’t digging, but I was still uncomfortable.
“Broke more bones than he thought.” I told her the lie that the Devils were telling.
“Well, he shouldn’t have punched Denzel,” Ava muttered as she ate. Her shoulders were hunched over as she ate and scrolled; she looked like a teenager. Okay, shewasa teenager, but her posture was that of a teenage boy.
“You should sit up straight,” I chided her quietly. “Your posture is terrible; your back will ache.”
Ava straightened automatically and then frowned at me. “Mom?”
“You’ll thank me later,” I assured her. “Back straight, feet on the floor, elbowsoffthe table,” I finished.
“I just want to eat my fries,” Ava complained.
“I know you’ve been invited to Sunday lunch with the parents. You can’t slouch at Sable’s table.” Ava squinted as she looked at me, trying to decide if I was joking — I wasn’t.
“I have no idea what to wear. They’re like . . . rich.”
“They are,” I agreed as I sat back and assessed her. “You’ve met them though, and you were wearing jeans and a jersey.”
“At agame. This is Sunday lunch. With my boyfriend’s parents, hisrichparents. Who have staff in the house to cook and clean.”
“That’s because Sable can’t cook.” I grinned. “It’ll be fine.”
“Are you coming?” Ava asked, and I saw the desperate hope in her eyes.
When I met Ava, I never thought I would be on her wish list of people she needed for support. “I’ve been invited as have my dad and stepmom, so yeah, I’ll be there too.”
“Oh, is your mom nice?”
“My mom was wonderful,” I answered as I looked over the cafeteria. “Anne, my stepmom, is nice.”
“Oh, sorry.” Ava waited a nanosecond before she asked. “Are they divorced?”
“My mom died when I was twelve.”
“Oh,” Ava automatically reached over the table and squeezed my hand. “I didn’t know, sorry.”
“Why would you?” I smiled at her as she sat back. “She had cancer, everywhere. By the time they realized there was something wrong, it was too late.”
“How do you miss cancer?” Ava asked with confusion in her voice.
“Dad was away a lot. I’m a Navy brat. Dad is —was— an admiral, not a lot of home time. Mom thought it was fatigue from looking after me.”
“Which is why you’re older than us.”
“Yes,” I answered as I reached forward for my soda.
“I’m sorry, I’m prying, you’re just really mysterious.”
I snorted out a laugh. “I’m really not.”
“You are!” Ava leaned forward as she looked around. “You’re like the glue to the Santo guys. I mean, before, I just thought you were a friend, but the more I see you all together, you’re another Devil.”
