That Weekend... Read online

  “Well, to be fair, Danica doesn’t really like anyone.”

  “True.” To say Danica was icy was crediting her with warmth that Ava had never seen the tall blonde show. She let her head fall back against the soft chair. The scent of leather blended with the aroma of coffee. She didn’t care who Danica liked or didn’t like. Not right now. “I flirted with him,” she said, closing her eyes. “At that anti–Valentine’s Day party. I flirted with him.” And almost kissed him.

  “Well, he was still McHot Stuff then.”

  Ava opened her eyes but didn’t lift her head. “I flirted with him and I didn’t even get the job.”

  Jilly lifted an eyebrow. “Is that why you flirted with him?”

  “Of course not.” Ava sat up straight. “But I just feel foolish now.”

  “Because you flirted with an attractive man.”

  “I told you.” Ava waved her hand again. “He is cut off.” Snip. “Like my chance of ever being cohost.” Her insides twisted at the words. She picked up her cup again but didn’t drink from it. She was too depressed.

  “Don’t say that.” Jilly’s green eyes were bright with loyalty. “You’ll get it next time. You’re too good not to be a host.”

  Ava stared down at the foamy drink. “What if there is no next time?”

  It wasn’t something she wanted to think about, but she had to consider what it meant for her if Tommy and Danica made such a great team that they hosted the show for the next thirty years. She’d die if that happened. Die without ever being more than a stand-in.

  “That won’t happen.”

  “It could.” She wasn’t that young anymore. Oh, sure, she still felt about the same age as the girls on MTV’s Teen Mom, but her driver’s license told another story. She, unlike Tommy, was over thirty, and this chance might not come along again until she was considered too old for the job. Her stomach twisted painfully and she took a sip of her latte to try to soothe it. It didn’t help.

  “It won’t happen,” Jilly repeated, her hair flickering like an aggravated flame in the watery light that came in through the window. “If you don’t get to host here, then you’ll get scooped up by some other station that recognizes your greatness.”

  “Really?” Ava knew she sounded pathetic, but if a person couldn’t sound pathetic in front of her best friend after finding out she’d just been denied the promotion of her dreams, then when could she?

  “Absolutely.” Jilly’s tone brooked no argument, which was good because Ava didn’t think she had the energy for it. “And now, your day can only get better, right?” That was Jilly, always looking on the bright side.

  “I hope so.”

  “I know so. Drink your latte.”

  Ava picked up her drink without sipping. “What am I going to tell my mother?” Normally, she wouldn’t have even mentioned that she was applying for a promotion. But she’d been so confident, she hadn’t been able to keep the news to herself.

  Now she was going to have to listen to that brief pause of disappointment before her mother made a few appropriate noises of concern, which would just be a mask before she could ask how Ava might have done things differently. She’d probably want her to make a list, too.

  The very idea made Ava’s bones ache with exhaustion. Maybe tonight was too soon. She could call her mother tomorrow instead.

  “Maybe she’ll forget?”

  Ava shot her friend a look.

  Jilly sighed. “You’re right. Just get it over with quickly and then change the subject.” She handed over the chocolate croissant she’d been eating. “Here. You need this more than me.”

  Ava bit off a huge chunk of the delicate pastry, refusing to even consider the calories. They didn’t count today. Everyone knew that when you were depressed, chocolate was a mood lifter and the fat found its way out of your body without making a pit stop on your hips.

  The croissant was still warm, the chocolate melting before it even hit her tongue. She reveled in the sweetness for a moment, wanting to lick the chocolate from her fingers, but wiped them on a napkin instead. “I’m so glad to be leaving town on Friday. Rockdale could not have come at a better time.”

  The Rockdale Film Festival in Rockdale, Idaho, was the little beacon of light at the end of this dark tunnel. She could leave all this—and Jake—behind for a week of fun in the snow with Hollywood’s hottest scene makers.

  “No kidding.” Jilly’s eyes lit up. “I know what would get your mind off this. Meet a superhot guy at Rockdale and have a mad passionate week-long affair.”

  “I could,” Ava said, “except for that little thing called work. How many times do I have to tell you it’s not a vacation.”

  “You can squeeze it in. I mean, what do you have to do? Movie premieres, going to parties and hanging out with celebrities? Plenty of time for a love affair with a movie-star hunk.”

  “Standing out in the freezing cold and begging those celebrities for a minute of their time, avoiding the drunk groupie about to puke on my shoes and never getting more than a couple hours of sleep at a time is not exactly a script for romance.”

  “Oh, please. You love it.”

  Ava’s mood lifted slightly. She did love it. Even if she had to come home and sleep for three days straight to recover. And the idea of having a short, hot affair made her feel better. Even if it would never happen. “Maybe I’ll meet George Clooney and he’ll fall madly in love with me and sweep me away to live a life of luxury in his Italian villa.”

  “He’d be a fool not to.”

  By the time she returned to her office, Ava was feeling much better. A little chocolate, a little coffee and a lot of knowing that she was about to get seven blissful Jake-free days, which might be even better than having an affair with George, though she wouldn’t admit that to Jilly. She hung her coat on the back of her door and woke up her computer. It hummed happily and dinged, letting her know she had email.

  To: All Staff [[[email protected]>

  From: Jake Durham [[[email protected]>

  Subject: Lena Wu

  I’m sorry to inform you that Lena Wu has decided to leave the station, effective immediately. She’s accepted a job as a producer on Vancouver Tonight’s six o’clock news program. We wish her the best of luck as she pursues this new endeavor.

  Sincerely,

  Jake

  Jake Durham

  Executive Producer, Entertainment News Now

  To: Ava Christensen [[[email protected]>, Brandon Rothschild [[[email protected]>

  From: Jake Durham [[[email protected]>

  Subject: Rockdale Film Festival

  As I’m sure you both realize, Lena will no longer be attending Rockdale. I will be going in her place. We need to discuss details. Meeting in my office at 1:00 this afternoon.

  Jake

  To: Jilly Daly [[[email protected]>

  From: Ava Christensen [[[email protected]>

  FW: You will not believe this.

  What kind of heinous criminal was I in a former life to deserve this?

  Forwarded Message Attached

  To: Ava Christensen [[[email protected]>

  From: Jilly Daly [[[email protected]>

  Re: OMG

  Seriously, did you used to eat babies?

  CHAPTER TWO

  JAKE GLANCED AT THE CLOCK in his office and then back at the doorway, which was empty. Brandon had already
come and gone, but there was still no sign of Ava. She was late. Only ten minutes, but that was long enough to have him wondering about the reason for it. Something legit or was this a slap at him because he’d been the bearer of bad news only hours earlier?

  He drummed his fingers on his desktop. It had been a lousy morning. First, the deal with the promotion, then Lena telling him that she was leaving and now having to scramble to make sure there would be no hitches with Rockdale.

  This wasn’t what he’d signed on for.

  When he’d accepted this job, it had been with the promise that he’d be a stopgap until someone permanent could be hired. Oh, no, Harvey had said, there shouldn’t be anything major happening. It’ll just be business as usual. Except he’d neglected to mention that he wanted Jake to select a cohost to replace the one that had left with the previous executive producer.

  If Harvey hadn’t been such a close family friend, Jake would have turned around the first day he walked into the station. He didn’t need the job and he had another project that demanded his time, one that he wanted to work on. But Harvey and his father had been friends since university, and Jake had promised that he’d help. So he was still here counting the days until his contract was over.

  And it was looking to be a long stretch of days. He had to find a replacement for Lena, prepare for what was one of the busiest festivals in the industry and deal with a furious reporter who’d be attending the festival with him.

  Oh, hell didn’t begin to cover it.

  At least he had someone in mind for his position. Although it wasn’t Jake’s responsibility, he didn’t trust that Harvey would start the search on his own.

  Hanna Compton was experienced and capable. In fact, Jake had initially asked her if she’d be interested in the position so that he didn’t have to take it himself, but she was under contract until the end of April. It was why he’d negotiated his contract to end at the same time.

  He and Hanna had gone to university together, finishing one and two in most of their classes. They’d remained close through the years, though she was probably closer to his little sister, Rachel, these days. They were quite the pair, regularly sticking their noses into his business and telling him how to run his life.

  While he waited for Ava to make an appearance, Jake took care of some other business. First, he contacted Harvey’s personal assistant to make sure she’d booked him on the flight and changed the hotel reservations from Lena’s name to his. Then he called some old colleagues scattered throughout the country and left messages about finding someone who’d be a good fit for the executive producer role, just in case Hanna didn’t accept. The sooner he found someone to take over this job, the sooner he could get back to focusing on the real reason for his move across the country.

  It wasn’t that he hadn’t done well in Toronto. He’d had a good job with a good company. One that had minimal ties to his father’s successful production company. A nice condo, nice girlfriend, nice life. Or, at least, it had been.

  Maybe that was the problem. It had all been too easy, and he’d become complacent, unable to hone the hard edge that was necessary when doing business at the highest levels. So instead of being a player, he’d just gotten played.

  Not anymore.

  This time he would be the one in charge. He was starting his own production company, and keeping it separate from the one his father owned back East. Alex, another old friend from his university days, was working on getting the start-up capital, and the money would come from outside investors.

  Alex had put out some feelers and come up with a list of local businesspeople who might be interested in backing their project. Some of them Jake vetoed immediately because they knew his father and would be sure to ask if he was Chuck Durham’s son. Though that fact was much easier to conceal on the West Coast, where his father’s name wasn’t quite so well-known, it was still a concern. At least out here no one had heard about the way his personal life had poked itself into his professional life, entwining the two so tightly that when one went south, the other had no choice but to follow.

  Out here, no one knew he had failed.

  It was why he’d made those calls to old colleagues now instead of waiting until tomorrow morning when he was more likely to catch them in their offices. Though most of them would try not to show it, Jake could imagine the censure in their tones. Or worse, the pity that he’d been so easily manipulated, that he wasn’t such a chip off the old block. It made him want to grind his teeth together and spit out the stumps. Easier to just explain what he was looking for via voice mail and ask that they forward the names of any potential candidates they knew to his new email address.

  When he hung up, another twenty minutes had passed and there was still no sign of Ava.

  The annoyance buried itself a little deeper in his gut. It wasn’t as though she’d been the only possible candidate. Or that he’d brought in an outsider. Not this time. Been there, done that, got the scars to show for it. This had been a pure business decision. One made with his head, which told him to let Tommy have a chance. Not because Tommy was related to the station owner, but because although he was young, he showed promise. Not that Ava seemed to understand that.

  To think that only a couple of weeks ago, he’d almost kissed her. He snorted. Hell, he had kissed her, though the brushing of their lips had been brief. Didn’t matter. Lips had been touching and it had been good, which had surprised him, since he hadn’t planned on connecting with anyone during his short stint at the station.

  Probably should have remembered that before he’d agreed to go to that anti–Valentine’s Day party. But something about it had appealed to his stung emotions. The thought of spending an evening with other people who also thought the forced-romance aspect was a crock and weren’t ashamed to be out in the city having a good time without a date, when everyone else seemed to be part of a pair or looking to be one by the end of the night, had been too tempting to pass up. Plus, he hadn’t had anything better to do and six solid weeks of entertaining himself by sitting in front of his television while he worked on his production company had long since gotten old.

  He’d had a good time, made better by Ava, but it had just been in fun, and when they returned to the office the next morning, it had been business as usual. She hadn’t acted any different around the station, no showing up at his office to ask him questions or inserting herself into meetings that she didn’t need to attend. In fact, he hadn’t really seen much of her at all in the lead-up to his selection of new cohost.

  He wondered now if that had been part of her ploy. A teasing warmth followed by the cool, consummate professionalism to make him want her more. It pissed him off that even six months ago, he might have fallen for it.

  The phone rang and he grabbed the receiver, intent on chewing a chunk out of Ava’s ass if she was calling to cancel. Not that he wasn’t reasonable—he was and he understood that things in the entertainment industry had a way of popping up unexpectedly. But that call should have come fifteen minutes ago. At a minimum.

  “Jake here.”

  “It’s Alex.” Lucky for Ava’s ability to sit.

  Some of the tension in Jake’s shoulders eased. “What’s up?”

  “I’ve got good news.”

  Jake sat up straighter. He could use some of that right about now. “Yeah? What is it?”

  “An investor. A big one.” He could practically hear Alex drooling. “This group is sitting on some excess cash and
looking to put it somewhere now.”

  Anticipation rolled through Jake’s blood. “Talk.”

  Alex had been busy contacting potential investors. To this point, they’d received little interest, but one was all they needed. “They like the concept.”

  “Of course they do.”

  He didn’t want to brag, but his idea was brilliant: making a travel show specifically for airlines. Since most shows currently on the market had been created for a television audience sitting at home, they ran according to those prescribed notions of time and need. But times and technology had changed and now was a chance to take advantage of how people had changed with it.

  His shows would run no longer than fifteen minutes. Little sneak peeks at restaurants and attractions specific to an area. And nothing that required a serious amount of traveling. On his show, all recommendations would be near the city center or well-known landmarks and easily reached by foot or an inexpensive cab ride.

  So people heading to New Orleans would see the cemetery where Marie Laveau was entombed, learn about Café du Monde’s special chicory coffee and beignets, and see the best of Bourbon Street. People on their way to San Francisco would check out Pier 39, the Embarcadero and the Buena Vista’s Irish coffees. Simple. Straightforward.

  “They want to meet you before they commit to giving us the money.”

  Jake had expected as much. “No prob. When?”

  “This Friday.”

  “This Friday?” Jake closed his eyes. This Friday he was already booked solid with events. Out of the country. Well, hell.

  “No, Friday the thirteenth, seven years from now.”