Page 35 of Reckless Love

“She was there for me when I really needed someone,” she says. “My brothers and sisters were all busy leading their own lives, and I…” She shakes her head. “Maybe she was there for me in case she needed a kidney. Maybe she was there for me because she’s my mother and she loves me. I’ve chosen to believe the second version.”

“Is she a good grandmother?” I ask.

“When Landon was a baby, yes. Not as much now that he can walk and talk and have opinions. No storybook grandparents on my side. My dad’s obsessed with the WHL team, and I barely see him.” She lets out another laugh that’s almost bitter. “Raul’s parents are dead, so Landon doesn’t really have any grandparents who are involved in his life.”

When she looks up and we make eye contact, I want to ask why the hell she married him, had a kid with him. She doesn’t seem happy. But I know why. I know why.

“I’ll set up the board,” I say, stepping back and sliding into my chair, grabbing a handful of pieces and slotting them into place.

Ava sits across from me and mirrors how I set up the board. To avoid talking about anything personal, I go through the object of the game and then what each chess piece can and can’t do.

Once we’ve played one game in which I help her a lot with moves and strategy, Ava settles in on the second game and starts to move the pieces with more confidence.

“Has your sister said anything about what’s happening at The Nile?” she asks, sneaking a glance at me before resuming her calculations, lifting pieces and trying moves before putting them back.

“We don’t talk about it,” I say, which isn’t strictly true. I know the unionization vote is coming up soon, that my time in this house is likely coming to an end. We do dance around what we’re both doing and the impact on each other, but I don’t like having information Ava doesn’t.

Raul doesn’t seem to tell Ava anything. Maybe they’ve spoken on the phone or texted while he’s been gone, but I haven’t seen any evidence of communication. They live in the same house, but their lives aren’t connected. Ava used to love the appearance of independence, even as she spent a lot of her free time in my apartment. How much she seemed to not just want me but also my company was what made me believe we had something real.

“You’re happy with Reckless?” I ask. “Vanessa tells me that the word on the street is that you’re a good boss.”

“Oh my god,” Ava says, her palm pressing into her chest again. “Your sister said that?”

“She did.” I consider my next move and avoid eye contact. How does no one in Ava’s inner circle realize how much she craves validation? Whether it’s because she didn’t get it from her parents or she was constantly in low- or high-level conflict with her family, she’s always needed to be told when she was doing well at something. Assuming she knows her strengths is where people get her wrong.

Ava lets out a deep sigh, and I sneak a glance at her before moving one of my pawns. Criminal how pretty she is.

“I love my company,” she says, “but I don’t know if I love my role. God, I haven’t told anyone that.”

“You don’t love being in charge? Doesn’t seem like you.”

She lets out a light laugh and gathers her thick, dark hair in her hands before letting it fall, cascading past her shoulders again. “The things I love being in charge of, I really love. Scent testing and creation or approval, branding, and employee satisfaction.”

“Employee satisfaction would look like what?”

“Celebrating milestones and successes.”

“You always did love planning and hosting a party.”

“I know, right?” She throws a hand in my direction. “You understand.”

“So why don’t you just delegate the parts you don’t like? You are the big boss.”

“That’s your advice from one big boss to another?” She eyes me playfully from across the table.

“It is.”

The light in her blue eyes dims slightly, and she refocuses on the board. “I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?”

“I had a lot of failed ideas. Start-ups that never quite started up. And I finally have something that’s successful. People are buying Reckless perfumes, and they like them. I don’t know why this worked, or maybe, I guess, I’m afraid to change anything in case it doesn’t work anymore.”

She moves her queen, and I could take it, but I pretend I don’t see the opportunity. This conversation is how things used to be between us when we were alone—easy, open, as though there aren’t ten suitcases of emotional baggage waiting to be unpacked.

“If reorganizing responsibilities would make you happier at your job, with the company, that seems worth it to me.”

“Reckless employs a lot of people who depend on that income. Risks I take don’t just have repercussions for me.”