Avery stared at her phone for a few seconds, lips parted in surprise.
Nick Diaz had cut his hair. And he’d said he loved her?
Her best friend, Corinne, gave her a curious glance as she ordered from the breakfast menu. Avery followed suit, a flush rising to her cheeks. After the waitress left their table, Corinne leaned forward to get the scoop. She’d just flown in from a family trip to the Caribbean. She looked effortlessly beautiful with her fluffy afro and golden-brown skin.
“Who was that?”
Avery wasn’t supposed to talk about her consultant job, but Nick wasn’t supposed to call her cell phone at random hours, either. Her Skype app was synced with her laptop, so he got right through.
“You’re dating someone!”
“No,” Avery said, setting her phone down. Corinne hadn’t been able to overhear their conversation in the crowded café.
“Then why are you on Skype?”
“It was Nick Diaz.”
Corinne’s eyes widened in recognition. Avery had told her about his first visit. “Special Agent Nick Diaz?”
“Shh,” Avery said, even though no one was paying attention to them. “It’s classified.”
“It’s classified,” Corinne repeated. “Mm-hmm.”
Avery laughed at her expression.
“This is the guy you said was tall, dark and handsome.”
“He’s attractive,” Avery said. “But we’re not dating.”
“You’re doing something with him. I can tell. Give me that phone.”
Avery handed it over, because there was no real evidence of their exchanges. There was a profile photo of Nick from his Skype account, just a basic headshot, which Corinne studied in detail before giving the phone back.
“It’s nothing,” Avery said.
“Your face is red.”
“It’s hot.”
“He’s hot.”
Corinne knew some of the details of Avery’s childhood. Avery had confided in her years ago without getting specific. “He’s trying to get close to the people I grew up with. They’re involved in serious crimes, apparently. He called to ask a question about someone, and I think they walked in while he was talking.”
“Why do you think that?”
“He said ‘I love you,’ before he hung up.”
Corinne flapped her palms on the table in excitement. “He’s an undercover cop? You should definitely go out with him.”
“He lives in California.”
“Northern California?”
“You’re missing the point, Corinne. He’s a professional contact on a dangerous assignment. Not boyfriend material.”
“He’s boyfriend material,” Corinne declared. “Or at least phone-sex material.”
The waitress arrived with their food, momentarily interrupting the conversation. They both dug into their plates.
“Has he given you any signals? Other than saying ‘I love you’?”
“That wasn’t a signal.”
“But you like him.”
Avery took another bite of French toast, shrugging.
“What would you do if he showed up on your doorstep? You’d hit it, right?”
She couldn’t lie to her best friend. “Yes.”
Corinne smiled with satisfaction, as if it was all decided. For her, it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility for a man to travel hundreds of miles in hopes of a hookup. She was a fashion model. Heads turned everywhere she went.
Avery distracted Corinne by asking about her trip, her family and her love life. They paid for lunch and took a stroll in a nearby park. It was another bright spring day, with flowers blossoming at every turn.
“How’s Chuck?” Corinne asked.
“He’s good,” Avery said. “I saw him at the Tulip Festival.”
“Does he have a dad bod now?”
“He’s got more muscles.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant. Do you think I avoid him?”
Corinne kept strolling, her hands in her pockets.
“My aunt Ruth said I’ve been distant since the kids came along.”
“Oh.”
“Well?”
“You know how people with kids are,” Corinne said, waving a hand in the air. “They get all goo-goo gaga. I don’t blame you.”
Avery sat down on a nearby park bench. Corinne had basically reinforced Ruth’s opinion. She agreed that Avery had withdrawn, but she didn’t understand the reason. It wasn’t because new parents were annoying. It was because babies made her uncomfortable. They reminded her of pain and loss.
Corinne took the seat beside her. “I should tell you something.”
“What?”
“It’s about Chuck.”
Corinne and Chuck had dated the summer after high school. It was a brief fling. “Do I want to know?”
“I had an abortion.”
Avery gaped at her in shock. “When?”
“Before I started college.”
“It was his?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell him?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Corinne looked across the park, swallowing hard. “I was afraid you’d take his side. He wanted to keep the baby.”
“I had no idea,” Avery said, floored by the confession.
“I was also afraid you’d hate me. I didn’t want to lose you, along with him and everything else.”
“He broke up with you over this?”
“He was young.”
“You were younger.”
Corinne’s eyes filled with tears. She brushed them away with a shaky hand.
“I could never hate you,” Avery said.
“You don’t think I’m terrible?”
“No.” She put her arm around Corinne’s shoulder. “I love you.”
Corinne reached up for Avery’s hand and held it there against her collarbone. They were quiet for a few moments, processing things. Avery couldn’t believe her best friend had kept this secret for so long. More than ten years, and Avery had never had an inkling. What kind of psychologist was she, to be completely unaware of Corinne’s anguish? What kind of friend wouldn’t notice, for that matter?
“I should have told you,” Corinne said finally, releasing her hand. “I’d decided to bury it. God, that’s a poor choice of words.”
“What changed your mind?”
“I don’t know. You seemed upset about being distant from Chuck, and I felt guilty for giving you a flip answer. Then I thought, maybe I drove a wedge between you and him.”
“No,” Avery said, after a brief reflection. Chuck wasn’t the type to harbor deep resentments. He might have been heartbroken after his fling with Corinne, but he’d moved on. “He’s in a good place.”
Corinne offered a weak smile. “He’s not pining away for me?”
Avery smiled back at her. Men tended to become obsessed with Corinne, so it wasn’t arrogance that made her wonder about Chuck. It was experience. “I don’t think so. He seems pretty happy with his life.”
“So why is Aunt Ruth on your case?”
Avery pulled her gaze away. “Oh, you know. The usual. She wants me to settle down. She thinks I’m afraid of men and relationships.”
Corinne didn’t let her off the hook. “You’ve never been in love.”
Avery resisted the urge to point out Corinne’s single status. It was apples and oranges. Corinne traveled all over the world for work, and she’d had multiple love affairs. “I was with Phillip for two years.”
“Phillip was your psychologist.”
“So it doesn’t count?”
“It counts as a messed-up example of what not to do.”
Avery couldn’t argue there. Although she took partial responsibility for the mistake, he’d seduced her. It was wrong for him to date a patient. He’d stopped treating her after their first sexual encounter, but that didn’t change the ethics violation. She’d ended things when she applied for her own license. She couldn’t imagine viewing one of her students, or any other person in her care, as a possible love interest.
“I didn’t mean you,” Corinne said. “You’re not messed up.”
“My mother died in childbirth,” Avery said. “Did I ever tell you that?”
“No.”
“It wasn’t a hippie commune. It was a religious cult. I ran away after she died, and I don’t know if the baby survived.”
“Jesus, Avery.”
“Avery isn’t even my real name.”
It was Corinne’s turn to put her arms around Avery. She cradled Avery’s head against her chest to comfort her. Avery wanted to say that she was messed up, and she always would be. She’d always have a missing piece inside her, a dark mystery. The question mark she’d left on the list was part of her.
“You’re not messed up,” Corinne said again. “You’re kind and beautiful and I love you.”
Avery closed her eyes and tried to believe those words.