Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

AVA

I really thought Jett and I were going to be able to be friends.

I escape to the main-level powder room at Gabriella's parents' house, close the door behind me, put the seat down on the toilet, and sit, kicking off my heels.

The judgment in Jett's tone about Gabriella's wedding and how I'm using it was so obvious. We haven't really spoken since I left, and he's assuming I've become the type of person who would exploit a friend for my own gain? That stings. Maybe because I can kind of understand where Jett might get the idea that I'm behind the way we're using the wedding as a PR move. Taking part in a major campaign like Gabriella's would be the biggest thing I've ever done—just planning her wedding is already proving it can bring in big accounts for my firm if I get it right. If he thinks I talked Gabriella into it, he must know that Colby would go along with whatever Gabriella asked. But how can he think that of me?

When I left Nevada, I gave him a few days to cool off and then I called. A lot. He never answered. I tried to save a little bit of us so we wouldn't be here now, where we barely know each other and yet things are still simmering below the surface. But Jett's always been an all-or-nothing type of guy, so it never surprised me that once I walked out of his life, I was out for good. Is the way he's acting just him trying to cope with the unbalance? The things he implied hurt. And if he voices any of that, even in passing? Like I said, Jett is one of the most popular guys in Texas. If he joins the voices of those criticizing Gabriella for choosing me to plan her wedding, Rutledge will hear about it, for sure.

I slip my heels back on, then wash my hands, but I don't intend to stay here. The party is winding down, and I don't need to be around while the caterer and the people hired to clean up do their thing. I text Gabriella before I leave.

Ava: I'm slipping out. I have some work calls I need to make. I'll see you Monday.

We'll meet up then and hash out the week's plan together.

She texts a thumbs-up, although I know there will be questions later, when she and the governor aren't deep in discussions about ways Gabriella can be involved with the causes he feels strongly about. As much stress as this dinner caused me, Gabriella was right to get him here to talk to her. He'll be a powerful ally for her down the road.

Something else bugs me as I make my way out to my car. The whoop that my stomach did when Jett said Gabriella already had me fundraising for her, that I'd be doing more for her. The excited whoop. The what-if I've let hang out in the back of my mind since I gave in and agreed to plan Gabriella's wedding. I can't do fundraisers again. I can't have Gabriella's political success hanging on my ability to plan the right type of event and involve the right type of people. I'm a small part of that right now, but none of this is actually tied to her future career. Not yet. So I can't decide whether it's fear that makes me tap my fingers against the steering wheel on the way back to Kemah … or longing.

I sleep in on Saturday and then spend the morning catching up on other projects at work that I didn't do while I was hurriedly planning a dinner party for Gabriella. I occupy a fair amount of time building a planner for a new client, making that my reward after I've put together a budget proposal for them. Their wedding is still a year out, so there's no rush on anything I'm doing now. I won't start in-person meetings and arrangements until I get back to Atlanta after Gabriella's wedding the first week of November.

I'm antsy from the night before, even after putting together a gorgeous planner, so I change into leggings and a tank top to run up the beach. Maybe not the best idea since I tense every time a figure comes into view until I can tell from their shape that it's not Jett. How far up the beach does he live? Closer to Jenna is all I know.

Then I mentally slap myself. Jett's in Houston, prepping for tomorrow's game. One thing I've paid close attention to is Colby's schedule. The team checks into a hotel the day before a game. They'll have meetings in the morning and then spend the rest of the day focusing on their own or with other teammates. So, for the last part of the run, I'm able to push past the way Jett has seemed to dog my steps since I got here.

By the time I'm back from my run, I have to face Gabriella's questions about me ditching the party right after talking to Jett.

Gabriella: Okay, spill it. What happened last night? You didn't look "fine" when you left.

I sit on a chair on my deck to answer. I'm going to enjoy this beach view as much as I can while I'm here.

Ava: We were just talking things out. It's just not going to be easy for us to be friends. We have a history and we've also changed. It's not a big deal. Promise.

Gabriella: But what happened? What did he say?

I'm not going to tattle to Gabriella that Jett thinks her using the wedding to get her name out there is a bad idea. It won't do any good. He just doesn't understand. If he or Colby wanted to run for office, they'd just do it. Jett doesn't have to think about leveraging an important event that will be all over social media because of his partner. He's got enough influence on his own. But it's not my job to convince him this is a good idea. It's not his wedding. If Colby or Gabriella are bothered by his attitude, they can take care of it. So if I'm not going to mention any of that, I don't know how to get around the details Gabriella wants to know.

Ava: Really, it's nothing. He was asking about my event planning and I got a little touchy. You know how hard it is for me when people bring up the fundraising events I used to do. I'm really fine.

There. It's mostly the truth. Hopefully Gabriella will let it drop.

Ava: And don't start with me on why I should be doing those types of events. You're not going to change my mind.

I congratulate myself on the pretty natural shift in the conversation Gabriella will have to go with. She sends me a GIF of an exaggerated sigh, and I smile, grateful for this small reprieve.

Gabriella: You're coming to the game with me tomorrow, right?

I scowl. I watch most of the Pumas games on TV. I grew up as a fan, so I can tell myself it has nothing to do with Jett being their star quarterback. I've even been to a few Pumas games here in Houston, but going with Gabriella will be different. Colby will have gotten her good seats, not the sky-high ones my dad and I usually buy. I was watching Jett play, but he never knew I was there. I was just one in the crowd. This will be different, like watching Jett back when we were dating, and my insides wiggle just thinking about it.

But if I try to blow her off, Gabriella's going to think it has to do with Jett, and she'll question me more about what happened at the dinner party.

Ava: Of course I'll come!

I add blue and black hearts to the end, the Pumas colors. Hopefully I can fake the same excitement when I see her.

On Sunday I drive to Gabriella's apartment in Houston, and we head to the stadium together.

"You look perfect," she says when we're taking our seats. She waves at the distressed shorts, my sleeveless navy-blue tee with a faded red Pumas logo, and my strappy sandals.

"I have a little experience with game-day outfits."

Gabriella's seats are as close as I thought they would be, just five rows up on the sideline. Colby will be able to see us—so will Jett, if he cares to look. I swallow at the thought.

The excitement of the game eases my nerves though. I lose myself a little in the happiness and enthusiasm of the people around me as everyone settles in. The day is hot, which is why I chose the top I did, and the heat only seems to add to the boisterousness of the other fans in our section.

Besides, I can't help the good memories that sneak into my brain—the anticipation that had me bouncing on my toes, unable to sit for most of the game, when I watched Jett in high school and college; how satisfying it was that the cool guy down on the field was mine . So often after games, he would ditch his teammates and meet me at his apartment to hang out. I loved the energy that spilled off him when they won, which was more often than not. He was explosive the night he won his first starting game at UNR. I had reveled in his high like it was my own. He was my everything. His successes mine. His disappointments as cutting as if they were my own. He was the same with me, celebrating A's on tests like I'd been picked in the draft and even crying with me when my mom called to tell me our family dog had died.

As close as Gabriella and I are to the field, my heart rate climbs when the players come out. I purposefully bend down to rummage in my bag when Colby, with Jett beside him, looks up toward us. When it's safe to stand up, I watch Jett from a distance. Last time I came with my dad, our seats were so high up I couldn't really tell who Jett was unless I could see his number. Gabriella has her head bowed in silent prayer—a ritual she and Colby have together before every game. We're too far up for her to go down to the railings like I know she does sometimes, so he stands at the base of the stands just below us, his posture mimicking Gabriella's.

The moment gives me a chance to stare at Jett without Gabriella catching me. He hasn't looked our way since he noted what Colby was doing. Jett's as attractive as he's always been in his pads and football pants. A rush of feelings pours through me, stronger than when we first got here, when it was just the atmosphere, the way it always did then when I saw him in his uniform. Pride and love—although, I don't think it's love now. More like nerves. But still the pride.

Jett went to the University of Nevada under the radar. In his first year, he got a few mentions from sports commentators for great plays the few times he got in, but he worked hard. That's the thing about him; he makes dreams happen. I think that's one of the reasons our breakup was so hard for him. He couldn't force our success from sheer will, the way he seems to be able to do with his career.

By the time he was a senior, he was a first-round draft pick, and Houston hasn't looked back since picking him up. They've been in the playoffs every year he's started as quarterback, and everyone says this year is The Year for them.

He steps into line with his teammates for the national anthem. I didn't even notice that Colby had moved to his side. I give a side glance to Gabriella, wondering if she's watching me with some kind of knowing smirk on her face, but she's checking her phone. She pockets it and smiles at me before looking to the field and putting her hand over her heart.

Then, unexpectedly, Jett turns to where I stand. My breath catches as he meets my eyes, and I almost expect for him to wink at me the way he always used to. He just stares then grimaces before turning away.

Once the Pumas have kicked off and Gabriella and I settle into our seats as the other team takes the ball, I turn to her. "It looked like things were going great with the governor."

Her face lights up. "It did. Makes me antsy," she says, clasping her hands together. "I know there's so much groundwork I've got to do, but I just want to be doing things. Now."

"I know." I reach over and put my hand over hers, and she clasps it instead of her own. "Do you already have him ready to give you an endorsement?" I tease.

"He will be." She flashes me a cocky grin and I laugh. Then she eyes me seriously. "I'm going to want you on board when the time comes. Are you going to be ready?"

I'm shaking my head before she even finishes, but she just glares, her expression determined.

"Ava. Why are you doing weddings?"

She knows why, but she wants to make me tell her that I'm scared to do fundraising events. "It makes me happy to see brides and grooms building their perfect day. You know how much I love helping with that. "

She scoffs. "And raising millions of dollars for good causes doesn't bring you joy?" she challenges.

I don't want to jinx myself, but I've never planned a wedding that went as wrong as the fundraising event that haunts me. And if the marriages fail? That usually happens long after the wedding itself. "Not for me right now."

"Ha." She turns her attention to the field. The Pumas have stopped the other team behind their own forty-yard line and they're preparing to punt. Colby—and Jett—will be on the field soon. "The Hope Sanctuary Alliance fiasco was not your fault. Not even a little bit, Ava."

She's said this a hundred times, but she's alone in her opinion. The talk online that has restarted since people found out I'm planning her wedding is proof of that. So is Rutledge telling Kristen they have their eye on how well this goes down.

"I let that video get out," I say to Gabriella. That's what Chelsea, the CEO of The Hope Sanctuary Alliance, said every time I tried to apologize. I poured my soul into that event. But I'm the one who didn't notice that Mrs. Page, the charity's founder, had snuck a video into the presentation, accusing her husband of embezzling millions of dollars from the foundation. Instead of a beautiful video showing how The Hope Sanctuary Alliance helped refugees all over the world, it was Mrs. Page's angry voice overlaying screenshots of accounts and scandalous videos and photos of her husband partying on the charity's dime. She should have brought it to Chelsea. They could have taken it to the police quietly, and maybe The Hope Sanctuary Alliance would have gotten some bad press, but it would've been nothing compared to the yearly fundraiser turning into a fiasco and everyone focusing on the scandal. All because of that video and its placement at the forefront of the fundraiser gala I had planned, packed to the brim with not just people with deep pockets but also reporters I'd put on the guest list because I believed in The Hope Sanctuary's cause and wanted word to get out. It was my fault it happened. I hadn't been careful enough— I'd been in a rush as the final minutes ticked down to the dinner. I hadn't double-checked that the correct video was cued up, ready to go.

After the uproar the video caused, and Mr. Page's arrest shortly after, there was nothing Chelsea could do to save the nonprofit. She was my friend, the reason I got the account in the first place, and I failed her.

Then there was the social media backlash, with me at the center. I was lucky to keep my job, the way people talked. Kristen had to move me to wedding planning and reassure a lot of clients. She's always insisted, the way Gabriella has, that I wasn't at fault, but she had her business to think of. Now there's an even bigger account on the line, and I have to pay Kristen back for the loyalty she showed me by making sure everything goes right this time.

Gabriella shakes her head. "You were coordinating an entire event. It had the same file name as the one that had been approved?—"

"The thumbnail was different." I fold my arms.

Gabriella raises an eyebrow. We went over every single moment of the event together after it happened, so she knows everything I can remember, including that my assistant tried to tell me when she said, "The thumbnail for the presentation video is different. That's weird. Want me to check it?" But I couldn't spare her at the moment. I'd needed her to diffuse a situation between the caterer and one of the charity staff members. I brushed it off.

"‘The thumbnail was different,'" Gabriella repeats in a sarcastic tone. She's trying to comfort me now just like she did then, insisting my mistakes were minor, that people were blowing things out of proportion. "How could you miss that amid a thousand other things going on that night?" She shakes her head and takes my hand back in hers. "I'm going to need you, Ava. You want me to do this, right? You support me trying to get elected to the senate? "

"Of course I do! That doesn't mean you need me actually on your staff to?—"

"It takes money, Ava. You know how to get that." Despite the fact that Jett throws a short pass to Colby and Colby's racing past defenders down the sideline, Gabriella focuses on me. This is where she started when she first approached me about doing her wedding. She's a strategist, and she knows it'll take more than one conversation to convince me. Just thinking about what happened with The Hope Sanctuary Alliance has my chest tight and anxious thoughts darting through my brain, especially with it so tied to the importance of my success now. Watching Gabriella's chances go up in smoke because I miss a detail somewhere again isn't something I can handle. I'll make sure Gabriella's wedding is perfect. That's all I can do for her, even if a part of me wants to do what she's asking.

"I'm not a fundraiser expert. I just know how to plan events." I pull my hand from hers and fold both of mine in front of me, stubborn in my stance right now.

"I'm not giving up." Gabriella claps at a good play, as though she's already moved on.

And I'm not giving in. But despite all the bad memories this discussion has brought up, I do miss planning those events. There was a little shiver of excitement when Kristen told me about the Rutledge account and I thought she might ask me to be on the team. It's stronger whenever I let myself think about the types of events I might plan for Gabriella.

Jett has a great game, but every time I cheer, I'm self-conscious about it. It's much easier to watch these games in front of my TV.

The Pumas win, and that's when I realize something I forgot about. The team's family room down by the locker rooms. I know the Pumas have one, and that's where Gabriella will want to go to see Colby. It's not a given that I'll see Jett, but the chances are high.

"I think I'm going to grab a Let's Ride back to your place," I say as Gabriella and I gather up our stuff from the seats.

She arches an eyebrow. "I thought you said everything was fine with you guys. That you were talking stuff out when I saw you fighting."

"We weren't fighting." Not exactly. "I just don't want to wait around."

"Chicken," Gabriella says under her breath as she leads the way out of our section.

I grab her arm to twist her around toward me before we leave our row. "Gabriella. You know that trying to set us up is a bad idea, right? You know this?"

She blinks at me innocently. "Claro. But why can't y'all hang out together?"

"We can. We're adults."

She starts walking again but talks to me over her shoulder. "Then why are you taking a Let's Ride to avoid the family room?"

"Gab. They're going to be forever, and I'm not in love with the guy we'd be waiting for."

"Ahhh, yeah. Of course. I thought you were going to do dinner with me and Colby." She widens her eyes and tilts her head innocently.

It's so hard not to react. Yeah, we talked about doing dinner after the game. Probably just takeout at Colby's place because he'll be exhausted. But Gabriella is so setting me up for something. "Oh yeah. We did." My tone is chill.

We've just made it to the top of our section, and she turns to me. "Ava, it was so long ago, and if things are fine with you guys, what's wrong with the possibility that he'll come do dinner with us? The only reason you left back then was worry that your relationship would jeopardize his future career. That's not a thing anymore, so what is so wrong with seeing what happens?"

"Ha!" I point a finger at her. "I knew it."

"You're not answering me." And it drives me nuts because, although I should've won this round with her, she's the one with her hand on her hip, not admitting anything and waiting for me to explain why me hanging out with Jett is a bad idea. Why I'm resisting Gabriella's attempts to match us back up. Because on the surface, she's exactly right. Jett was talking about quitting football so he could get a job to pay our bills. He'd even talked about both of us going back to Houston to finish school so things would be easier to afford. I couldn't let him do that. I left to save him from himself.

But running out on the guy you're going to marry? That leaves a lot of baggage to sort through.

"Jett still has feelings about us," I say evenly. "And not the good kind. I don't want to be on some kind of weird double date."

Gabriella has arguments. I can practically see them rolling through her brain, but she takes a deep breath and nods shortly. "Okay, fine. If it's okay with Colby, how about we invite other people and then it's not just the four of us?"

I hold back a groan. That's not where I wanted her to go with this.

She's already pulling me along to the family room, and the plan is set before I've even put up a real argument.

It's fine. It's totally fine. If Jett criticizes the wedding again, I'll just calmly ask him to take his concerns to Colby and Gabriella. They'll set him straight about being the ones to ask me to do this, and I won't have to worry about his criticisms getting back to Rutledge.

Finding a way to be friends is far more complicated than I thought it would be.