Ava's Wishes Read Online Free Page B

that’s a problem why?” Carly asked.
    “Sorry about that, ladies,” Thomas said as he approached the table. “Excellent, I see the drinks have arrived. So what are we talking about?”
    “Oh, just boring school stuff,” Ava said defensively. “That’s kind of what we do here at The Spot. It’s not really interesting for anyone who’s not a student. Hey!” Ava kicked Carly back under the table, only harder.
    “Oh, I don’t know about that, so far I’m finding you both quite entertaining.” Thomas smiled.
    “Look, isn’t that Melanie from that sculpture class we took last year?” Carly pointed to a girl standing at the bar across the room. “I haven’t talked to her in ages.” Grabbing her glass, she stood up.
    “Wait! You’re leaving?” Ava asked in disbelief.
    “I’m just going over there, Ava. I’ll be back. Besides, you two have business stuff to go over. Hey, if I don’t get to talk to you later, Thomas, thanks for the drink.”
    “What do you mean if you don’t get to talk to him later? I thought you said you’d be right back?” Ava asked, starting to feel panic well up inside of her.
    “I don’t know, Ava, things could happen. That guy Melanie is standing next to is kind of cute.” She winked at Ava as she walked off.
    “Carly! Wait.” She shook her head and sighed as Carly kept walking without looking back.
    “Looks like it’s just us,” Thomas stated.
    “Sorry about that,” Ava replied. “Carly can be kind of unpredictable sometimes.” She twirled the stick in her drink while the awkward silence at the table filled the air. She desperately scanned the room for a familiar face, hoping someone might walk over to the table to join them. “If you want to leave, I understand. I can have Cynthia call you during the week to set up a business meeting to go over the details for your exhibit.”
    “No, no, and no need to apologize, either. We might as well at least stay and have our drinks. So tell me, Ava, have you always loved art?”
    She took a long sip of her drink. Partly to calm her nerves, and partly to remind herself that as good looking as Thomas was, he was Cynthia’s client. Spot or no Spot, she needed to be on her best professional behavior.
    “I have,” she replied, “for as long as I can remember. Have you always loved photography?”
    “Indeed. My parents bought me my first camera when I was just toddling around back in London. One of those fake plastic ones, mind you, but according to them, I never let it out of my sight. When I was about seven or eight years old, I started a dog walking business in my neighborhood to earn money. I saved every penny to buy my first real camera.”
    “And was it the same with flying? Did you always love to fly?” Ava asked.
    “Oh heavens no, I hate to fly! In fact, when my parents decided to move to this side of the Atlantic when I was in my teens, I was so terrified of the plane ride, they had to tranquilize me,” Thomas replied with a hearty laugh.
    “But your exhibit is called Images in Flight. Didn’t you take those while flying?” Ava asked, confused.
    “Yes, that was a crazy idea I came up with one night when I had a bit too much scotch, I’m afraid. I was in a quaint little pub visiting with some friends. One of them happened to recognize an old school mate who was a pilot and asked him to join us. He convinced me to go up in his two-seat Cessna that weekend with my camera. I did get some amazing shots, but I never want to do anything like that again. I don’t quite have the stomach for it.”
    “Oh, that makes more sense,” Ava said, trying to hold in a giggle.
    “More sense than what?” Thomas asked.
    Ava realized too late that she probably shouldn’t say, but the alcohol was already starting to loosen her up. “Well, when I was first telling Carly about your exhibit, we thought you both flew the plane and took the photos at the same time. I pictured you hanging out the window with one hand on the