Dinner at Eight-epub
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Authors: Jess Dee
Sunday Night Dinner Club
Book 3
Dinner at Eight
Jess Dee
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The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Dinner at Eight
Copyright © 2015 Jess Dee
ISBN: 9781310863127
Edited by Jennifer Miller
Cover art by Valerie Tibbs
Formatted by
IRONHORSE Formatting
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means—accept in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission.
For more information visit:
With thanks to:
Sabrina, for her invaluable legal advice and information about Australian law and divorce.
Elliot, this time for giving Jared his profession.
Fedora, once again, for her excellent suggestions.
And as always, to Jennifer, for making me a better writer.
Sunday Night Dinner Club, Book 3
It’s been eighteen months since Ava Torres last saw her best friend, Jared Thurston. In that time she’s been married, separated and gone all the way to hell and back as a wife. She keeps her emotional scars buried deep beneath the surface, loath to let the world know they exist.
Jared had no choice but to leave Sydney. The alternative meant staying and watching the woman he secretly loved marry another man. Now it’s time to go home and pick up the pieces of his broken heart.
Ava is both thrilled and thrown by Jared’s unexpected return. While seeing him brings true happiness for the first time in months, it also presents a new batch of problems. Jared won’t let Ava hide from her pain any longer, nor will he let her hide from him. He’s determined to show her that true love doesn’t just exist in fairy tales. If Ava is willing to fight for it, together they can find their very own happy ever after.
Warning: Please don’t go thinking this is your regular fairy tale. No one under the age of 18 should be reading the tale of this ridiculously sexy Prince Charming.
Table of Contents
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Ava Torres took a final look in the mirror, tugged her blouse over her hips, making sure it hung loosely down to her thighs, and buttoned up one more button.
Perfect.
Not a hint of curve to be seen anywhere. Even the generous swell of her breasts was hidden beneath the flowing shirt—and that took some doing, seeing as the girls had a tendency to show themselves off regardless of what she wore.
She pulled a brush through her hair and headed out to the lounge room just as the front door opened.
“Ready to go?” Liv asked without stepping inside.
“Just grabbing my bag,” she told her roommate. “But don’t you think a more apt question would be, are you two ready to go?”
James, Liv’s fiancé and their upstairs neighbor, popped his head over Liv’s shoulder. His eyes glinted devilishly. “Liv’s been going the whole afternoon. I’m exhausted.”
“James!” Liv elbowed him in the ribs.
“Too much information, people,” Ava chided as she hung the bag over her shoulder. She switched off the lights and followed the couple across the lobby and out of the building. “Oh,” she exclaimed. “You’re walking on both feet.”
James’s booted foot
thunk
ed along the footpath with every step. He’d shattered the bones in his shin five weeks ago. “Doctor’s orders. I’m finally allowed to lose the crutches and use this leg.”
“He’s doing great so far,” Liv enthused. “James broke all records getting down stairs today. In only took him three hours.”
“Oi, I call bullshit. Less than a minute a staircase.” He tugged Liv’s hair. “Way faster than you.”
“You try walking down eight flights of stairs in these heels,” Liv countered, showing him her shoes.
Ava shuddered. “He’d break his other leg.” Standing no taller than five-two, Ava was the one who should be wearing the six-inch heels. Anything to add a little height.
Once upon a time she’d worn heels like Liv’s. Often. She still had them, but they were packed away at the back of her wardrobe somewhere.
“She looks hot in those shoes.” James’s voice was low and sexy, and Liv cast him a sultry look.
“Okay, seriously, guys?” Ava grimaced with amusement. “Keep it for the bedroom.”
“You were the one who said we’d wasted years getting together,” Liv pointed out. “We’re only making up for lost time.”
“Which is all well and good, and I’m happy you’re doing it, but let’s keep it behind closed doors.” She shoved a finger in her open mouth.
Liv laughed and James grinned, but when they reached Liv’s car, his face fell. He cast a longing look at the driver’s seat.
“Not yet,” Liv said. “Still a few more weeks until you can drive again.”
He sighed and opened the front passenger door for Ava.
“As if I’d ever deprive the two of you from sitting side by side.” Ava settled into the back and watched with amusement as the rugby player awkwardly maneuvered his massive, muscled body and injured leg into Liv’s tiny seat.
“You can stop laughing.” James grunted. “Soon as we’re married, I’m buying her a bigger car.”
Ava nodded. “Yeah, that should go down well.” The fiercely independent Liv hated the very thought of anyone doing anything for her. “Good luck.”
“I like my car just fine,” Liv said. “I don’t need a new one.”
“It’s not for you.” He angled his shoulder to the side and pulled the door closed. “It’s for me. Unless, of course, you want a husband with permanent physical deformities from spending endless hours in this torture chamber.”
“My car is not a torture chamber, and you may be prone to over-exaggeration.”
“I may have to lie prone after this—if you don’t drive a little faster and let me out of this hellhole.”
Ava grinned as the two bickered the rest of the journey. Her mouth watered when Liv found a parking spot a couple shops down from Chelsea’s, the restaurant where she and her friends met every third Sunday night. It was their way of staying in touch when everyday life interfered with their ability to see one another on a daily, or even weekly, basis. Chelsea—the restaurant was named for the owner—made the most delicious food in Sydney. It didn’t matter what Ava ordered—and she made it a practice to order something different every time—it was unfailingly yummy.
As expected, Spencer and Levi were already inside, sitting at the large round table funkily set with mismatched glasses, crockery and chairs. Ever since the two men had begun seeing Chelsea, they’d been arriving for dinner early.
Kisses on the cheek were exchanged all around, and minutes after Ava, James and Liv had taken their seats, Chelsea arrived with drinks for them. She set the customary G&T in front of Liv, handed James a sweating glass with his Toohey’s New and walked over to Ava.
“White peach julep, made just for you. If you give it the thumbs-up, I’ll put it on the specials board. Thumbs-down, and I’ll never serve it again.” Chelsea had begun trialing her cocktails on Ava a few months back.
Smiling her thanks, Ava took a sip, letting the icy drink sink into her taste buds before slipping down her throat.
Chelsea waited until she’d swallowed. “Thoughts?”
“Love the sweetness of it. And the fruity flavor. Fresh peaches?”
Chelsea nodded. “They’re just coming into season. Any other thoughts?”
Ava smacked her lips together, exploring the aftertaste—and the after burn—as the liquor seared her stomach. “I like everything except the alcohol itself.”
Chelsea nodded. “I wondered if you’d notice. It’s bourbon. Last time I served you a drink with it, you gave it the thumbs-down.”
Ava frowned. “It’s all I can taste now.”
The glass was gone before Ava could blink and a new one placed in front of her. “I switched the bourbon for vodka. Better?”
Ava took a sip and closed her eyes in delight. “Heaven!”
Chelsea chuckled. “Thought you’d prefer it. I’m calling it the ‘Peachy Ava’ and adding it to the specials. Yell if you want another.”
“I want another,” Levi said, the suggestion clear in his tone.
“You always want another,” Chelsea said with affection. She trailed her hand over his neck as she walked away.
Spencer eyed Levi with a wry smile. “Subtlety’s never been your strong point, has it?”
Levi shook his head with a grin. “Impossible to be subtle when Chels is around.”
“You’re as bad as Liv and Jimmy,” Ava said.
“No one’s as bad as Liv and Jimmy,” a feminine voice intoned.
Ava looked up to see Zoey and her husband, Theo, approaching the table. Ava waved.
The only married couple among them, Theo and Zoey had been together since uni days. Over the years, partners had come and gone from the Dinner Club, but Zoey and Theo had always been rock solid.
Now they were no longer the only solid ones. Liv and James were planning their wedding, and Levi and Spencer were happily entrenched in their unconventional ménage lifestyle.
Of the friends still living in Sydney, she and Greg were the only single ones. Greg seemed to be in no hurry to find his perfect mate and settle down, and Ava was content with her single status. She’d tried marriage once—and wasn’t touching that institution again. Not even with a ten-foot pole.
“Jimmy and Liv are like bunnies,” Ava agreed as Zoey and Theo sat down. “I swear they hardly come up for air.”
“You realize we’re sitting right here?” Liv asked.
“We don’t have to be,” James said. “Say the word, and we’ll be home in fifteen minutes.”
“I rest my case.” Zoey smiled at Chelsea as the restaurateur set a bottle of red between her and Theo.
“Uh, think I’ll have a beer instead.”
Every pair of eyes at the table turned to stare at Theo. He and Zoey always shared red wine. It was their drink.
“Corona, please.”
Even Chelsea looked surprised. “With a slice of lime?”
Theo nodded. “Thanks.”
Zoey dropped her gaze, staring at the table. Ava wasn’t sure, but she thought her lips tightened. An instant later, smile firmly in place, Zoey looked up again. “Finally, I get to have as much wine as I like. Don’t have to share the bottle with anyone.”
Theo opened his mouth, and everyone waited to see what he’d say, but then he just closed it again, shrouding the table in an awkward silence.
Sensing the need to divert attention from her married friends, Ava piped up. “Anyone notice what’s missing from Jimmy tonight?”
“Christ,” Spencer muttered, “please don’t say his underwear.”
“Ew.” Ava pulled a face. “As if I’d know that.”
“I’d know,” Liv volunteered.
“We’d rather you didn’t say.” Zoey wrinkled her nose.
“Apart from his bra and panties, I mean,” Ava said.
“His gym weights?” Theo asked. “Rugby boots?”
“His crutches!” Ava announced.
“He can walk again?” Spence asked.
“So, no more calling him Hopalong Cassidy?” Levi wanted to know.
As the good-natured ribbing continued, Ava felt a shiver along her spine. She put it down to the air conditioning and rubbed her arms to warm up.
The motion didn’t help. The shiver turned to full-blown tingles. It was almost as if someone was watching her.
She glanced around, but apart from her friends, no one looked her way.
Still, the tingles persisted.