They had been on the road for too long without food, caffeine and alcohol. Ava was feeling anxious.
Walking into yet another nondescript comedy club in some college town, Deborah was in her element. Her writer, on the other hand, hated these college towns and the ever present reminder that she hadn’t finished college herself. She was antsy and bordering on hangry.
“Joe!” Deb’s voice carried in the intimate space.
“My, my, Deborah Vance,” the balding man who had been behind the bar approached her. “You haven’t aged a day, my dear.”
His familiarity with Deb rankled Ava. She squared her shoulders and set her jaw as she watched the two exchange cheek kisses.
“Always a charmer,” Deborah put on the smile she used with fans asking for her autograph for their moms or aunts or—god forbid—grandmothers.
“Green room is where it’s always been. You can put lipstick on a pig but it’s still a pig,” he shrugged. He seemed to finally notice Ava’s presence and looked her up and not, not in a creepy way, but as though he was confused why she was standing at attention a few steps behind the comedian. Deborah caught the look.
“Joe, this is my friend Ava,” she explained. “Ava, this is the proprietor of this fine establishment.”
“Pleasure,” he nodded to Ava who remained hardened like a statue. She finally gave him a sideways smile when Deb had urged her with her eyes to not be an asshole.
“We’ll be in the green room going over my set.”
Deborah walked away from a confused Joe as Ava hurried along behind her. He could only shake his head.
Once Ava had caught up she closed the door behind her with a noticeable bang.
“Disgusting, don’t ever refer to me like again!”she fumed.
“What? ‘My friend’?” Deborah looked as though she were clueless when she clearly knew what was happening.
Ava made noises as though she were wretching or gagging.
“Are we not friends?” Deb raised an eyebrow and holds it at the potential cost of a future wrinkle.
Taking a step toward Deborah, Ava looked into the eyes she had found herself lost in on many an occasion. She refused to get lost in them now.
“We are…” she formed her hands into fists. “We aren’t not friends.”
“Then I don’t see what the big deal is.”
“The big deal is that you and I are a hell of a lot more than friends, D.”
Ava stepped closer and Deborah stepped back until her hip hit the edge of the vanity.
“I don’t imagine you’ve told Joe out there half the things you’ve told me. I don’t imagine you’d trust him with half of the things you gave me. And Joe? Joe is a friend,” Ava bit.
When the redhead had boxed her in, Deborah didn’t feel the need to get out of the situation the way she would had Ava been literally any man but maybe Marcus or Damien. She actually sighed. Her shoulders relaxed and she stared back. If anyone would break under her gaze, it would surely be her writer. The air was thick with tension. But it was Deb’s lips that parted first.
“I am not going to tell the Joes of the world what you mean to me.” It was a breathy whisper and it brought Ava’s face closer. Deb hooked her finger into the collar of the girl’s shirt and pulled her closer. “You know and that is all that matters.”
Clocking the tremor in one of Ava’s hands, Deborah took it and rubbed her thumb over each knuckle.
“We have an unlikely friendship to the world out there,” Deborah nodded toward the door. “But in here? In here, you can be whatever you want to be to me. I gather that ‘friend’ is not what you want.”
Ava huffed before planting her lips on Deborah’s. When they parted she couldn’t help but grin. Yes, she knew she was being a child about this.
Deborah smiled the smile that was genuine Deb. That smile was reserved for a select few and Ava would always be among them.
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