“Thank you,” I said. “But I just don’t even know how to start. Do I call him? Show up at his hotel room? Is he even still staying at the hotel?”
“He is,” she said. “And that’s the perfect place for you to talk to him. Go to the hotel restaurant for dinner. I’ll take care of getting Tom there.”
I let out a long breath. This was really going to happen. There was no turning back now.
33
Tom
“Hello?” I said as I answered the phone. I was surprised to see Ava’s name pop up on the caller ID, mostly because I was standing within earshot of Mason. He was busy moving furniture around, so perhaps he just didn’t hear his phone and she needed me to get him, but either way, it was odd, and the surprise in my voice was probably evident.
“Hey, Tom, could you meet me at the hotel restaurant for dinner? I thought you’d be back here by now and was just going to swing by and chat, but there’s some stuff on the menu here I want to try now,” she said. It all came out almost as one breath, and if I was confused before, I was completely lost now.
“You want me to meet you at the hotel restaurant?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said, seeming to realize how weird it sounded. “I just had some ideas for theme nights, you know? And I was going to drop by your room and chat with you about them, but you hadn’t left the bar yet, so I was going to head back that way. Then I passed by the restaurant down here, and they have—” There was a pause for a moment. “—chicken scallopini.”
“Chicken scallopini,” I repeated.
“Yes. Chicken scallopini,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to try that, and they have it here. And I thought we could go over the ideas I had while I tried it.”
I took the phone away from my ear to stare at it for a moment. Ava was a free-spirited girl, but this was a little odd even for her. I glanced over at Mason, who seemed to have noticed I was having a strange call but was trying not to pry.
“I really don’t think you need my opinion on theme nights,” I said. “You have those down pat.”
“There are just a couple ideas I want to run by you,” she said hurriedly. “Also, Mason hates chicken scallopini. He told me so weeks ago when I suggested eating it.”
“He does, does he?” I asked.
“Mmm-hmm,” she said on the other end.
“Alright, if you insist,” I said.
“Great, I’ll get us a table,” she said. “See you here in fifteen, twenty minutes?”
“Probably sooner than that. I was just about to leave anyway,” I said.
“Okay, bye!” she said.
“Bye, Ava,” I said and hung up.
Before I could turn to my brother, he got a ding on his phone and pulled it out of his pocket. He was reading something as I approached him.
“Mason, do you hate chicken scallopini?” I asked him.
“Apparently,” he said.
“Apparently?”
“I mean, yes. I do. I hate the stuff,” he said.
I nodded. Something was going on, but hell if I knew what it was. If Ava was running some kind of idea by me and needed to be this secretive about it, it had to be a huge one. Probably involving a bigger investment.
“Well, I’m off to meet Ava for dinner. Come join us when you’re done, I guess,” I said.
“Sure,” he said, sounding ironically unsure.
When I arrived, I was surprised to see Ava sitting outside the restaurant. She seemed pensive, and a million thoughts ran through my mind about what I could be in store for. Whatever it turned out to be, the effort seemed silly. At this point of my investment I was in for a penny, in for a pound. Might as well go full hog if she really believed in something. Though, admittedly, I was curious as to what it was.
I got inside, and she gave me a quick hug before telling me to follow her. We walked directly past the hostess stand and into the restaurant. I looked back at the hostess, who seemed just as confused as I was. I was beginning to wonder what the heck was going on and was about to ask her if she was leading me to a dark room to murder me when the words got caught in my throat.
We had arrived at a table and sitting at it already was Amanda.
“Amanda,” I said, suddenly not able to breathe all that well. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ll just let you guys talk for a few minutes, but I will be right over there,” she said, pointing to the other end of the bar. She was also not facing me when she said that. The conspiracy to get me there was hatched between the two of them, and Ava was on her side.
“Why don’t you sit down, Tom,” Amanda asked. I thought of protesting, of refusing to do anything until I knew what was going on, but my body followed the instruction without any input from my indignation. Curiosity and the desire to be close to her overrode everything else at the moment.
“Okay,” I said, settling into place and clearing my throat. I tried to relax my body language so I couldn’t be threatening at all. It was something I had learned from Ava, actually, that I had a tendency to approach serious conversations combatively. When she and Mason were breaking the news of their relationship to me, there was a lot of tension simply because my body language gave off the impression I was totally against it. It couldn’t have been further from the truth then, and I didn’t want to give Amanda that impression now. I folded my hands over each other on the table, my arms stretched out so I wasn’t hunched. “What’s this all about?”
“I have some news, and I thought you should know first,” she said, and I held up my hand. I knew where this was going. She thought I hadn’t gotten my email yet, which, to be fair, was a reasonable assumption. I hadn’t responded to it, and also was a man of my tendencies, and the one of not checking all my email was a well-known one between the two of us.
“I know,” I said.
“You do?” she asked, her face a mask of confusion. Suddenly, I wasn’t so sure it was about the email.
“I read your request,” I said. “You want to move departments.”
She sat there, stunned, her jaw moving up and down like she was trying to find the words, and I decided to cut in before she could say anything else. If there was a chance to keep her before she made the jump, this was the time.
“Look, I know things are difficult, and you aren’t comfortable working with me right this moment, and I get that. And I know I’m the one who encouraged you to fill out that application. It’s just that, well, I don’t want you to leave your position,” I said.
“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out.
I was halfway through another word when the interruption registered. There were at least a few seconds where I had my mouth open, the word still trying to come out, while my brain registered what the interruption actually was, and what that meant. My eyes instinctively floated to her stomach, then back up to her eyes.
“Pregnant?” I asked.
“I’m pregnant,” she repeated, this time not looking like the words got out without her meaning them to. She straightened up in the seat and looked calm and collected, but I could see her eyes measuring me. Trying to read my reaction.