Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“I appreciate that, and I know it. But the only way…”
“The only way that happens…is if the rest of you are dead and buried. Leaving no heirs.”
Chapter Thirty
Ava
I’m back at my place, still staring at the cards on the table, when my phone buzzes.
It’s Brendan.
“Hey,” I say into the phone.
“Hey yourself. I just wanted to check in. See how you’re doing.”
“Oh, Brendan… I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
“You haven’t made any mistake, Ava.”
“But I have… I’ve been trying to see something in my grandmother that’s not there.”
“That’s not a mistake, Ava. That’s just being human.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m just leaving the city attorney’s office. I had to see Donny.”
“Is everything okay?”
“What a loaded question.” He chuckles softly in an unhumorous way. “You feel like getting some breakfast?”
“Not particularly. Why don’t you come over to my place, and I’ll make you some eggs? You know I don’t ever have bacon.”
“Too bad I can’t have one of your almond croissants,” he says, “but the bakery’s closed.”
“I have some in the freezer. I’ll put one in the oven for you. Come on over, Brendan. I miss you.”
“I miss you too, baby. I’ll be there in a sec.”
I head to my bedroom and look in the mirror. My face is a mess. My eyes are swollen, and my nose is red. I cried last night, and I’m not even sure why. Some of it was because of Brendan because I thought I had destroyed what we had. But I haven’t. I can hear it in his voice. But a lot of it wasn’t Brendan. It was just me. Just Ava. I let my grandmother mess with my head. And I let the cards mess with my head. I doubted myself. I doubted who I am.
But no more.
I’m nothing like my grandmother, and I am not her progeny. Not in the way she means.
She still, even in her old age, has a brilliant mind, a manipulative mind.
And I almost let it happen.
But I won’t.
I absolutely will not.
I was right about the cards. I’m not changing. I’m emerging. And the realization of who my grandmother truly is proves that.
Brendan has seen me at my worst, and this won’t matter to him. I quickly pull on some baggy jeans and a tank top with no bra. I leave my feet bare.
I head back out to the kitchen, not even glancing at the cards on the table, and I pull out an almond croissant from the freezer. Then I pull out another. I’ll join Brendan. I need to eat. I make him some eggs, pour him a glass of orange juice, and brew a pot of coffee.
And something occurs to me.
I feel more like myself in this moment than I have in the last couple of weeks.
Making breakfast for the man I love.
Instead of trying to figure all this other stuff out.
Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.
Sometimes a crazy person is just a crazy person.
And sometimes I am just me—a person who’s constantly growing. Life is a journey.
Ava Steel. I may not be descended from Daphne Steel, but I am who I always was. The daughter of Ryan and Ruby, and though I’m the granddaughter of Wendy Madigan, that does not have to change my life.
And I will not let it.
I’m emerging as Ava Steel—a woman who knows her true genetic background but who will not let herself be defined by it.
My phone buzzes with a text. It’s Brendan.
I’m here at the door.
I go down, let him in, and then I melt into his arms.
He embraces me, his warmth a welcome respite.
“You okay?” he says.
“Now that you’re here, I will be.”
I lead him back up the staircase to my apartment where I’ve already set his place at the table.
I pour him a cup of coffee and set it down next to his plate.
He takes a seat. “Thank you.”
I sit down next to him, in front of the plate where my lone croissant sits.
Brendan brings a forkful of scrambled eggs to his mouth, chews, swallows.
I just stare at him.
“I’m sorry,” I finally say.
“I’m sorry too, baby. We’re both going through a lot right now, but we’re going to be okay.”
I nod. “Thank you for that. I need it.”
“I need it too.” He puts down his fork, picks up his croissant, and takes a bite. The dough flakes, and light crumbs scatter to his plate.
“What did you need to see Donny about?”
“The Steel Trust has called its lien on the property.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Nobody else seems to either, baby. Donny and your uncles don’t even know what the Steel Trust is.”
“Who got in contact with you?”
“Some law firm in Denver.”
“How much?” I ask.
“More than I’ve got.”
More than he’s got. I’ve got the world. I don’t want to touch my trust fund, but if I can help Brendan…
“I can handle that.”
“You?”
“I have a trust fund. I’ve been able to access it since I turned twenty-one. I just haven’t. That amount is a drop in the bucket for me, Brendan. I’d like to take care of this for you if you’ll let me.”