Ava's Prize

CHAPTER SIX

KYLE WALKED AROUND the outdoor garden oasis he’d designed on the rooftop of his building, checking the ice bin, appetizer trays, and avoiding the guests mingling around him. Small talk had never interested him. Too much politeness and too many gracious compliments made him suspicious. He always ended up searching for the flip side—the criticism wrapped inside the sweetness.

At eight, his grandfather had declared Kyle was man enough to learn how to shake a hand and stand behind his word. Papa Quinn had taught him to rely on the strength of a handshake, not empty promises. His grandfather looked people in the eye, always had a firm handshake and listened.

Sam Bentley, one of Kyle’s judges and soon-to-be mentors, walked over to the buffet table and shook Kyle’s hand. Sam had a handshake Kyle could rely on.

“Quite the crowd,” Sam said. “I didn’t expect so many people to be here.”

Neither had Kyle. The contest open house had been last weekend. The number of contest entries had exceeded his expectations by more than double. “You might want to try the shrimp before they’re gone.”

“Good idea.” Sam piled several bacon-wrapped shrimps onto a napkin. “You doing okay?”

Kyle paused and looked Sam in the eye. His grandfather had always cautioned Kyle not to ask a question if he wasn’t fully invested in the response. Sam seemed prepared to listen. Sam’s wife, Glenda, bounced between them and air-kissed Kyle. “You’ve outdone yourself, Kyle. How did you manage this so fast?”

The effervescent woman answered her question with another one. “Did you see Vanessa Ryan, the news anchor from Channel 15, and Brendan Payne from Channel 10? Brendan looks better without all that studio makeup. Do you think they might be an item?” Glenda glanced at Kyle. “Don’t you get nervous talking to reporters? Worried you might say the wrong thing.”

Sam handed his wife the napkin with the shrimp and grimaced at Kyle. “Honey, try these. They’re quite delicious.”

“I can’t eat now.” Glenda adjusted the cashmere scarf around her neck. “Nikki James—also from Channel 10—is headed right this way.”

Kyle disliked the press even more than small talk.

Nikki lifted her champagne glass in a toast to the threesome. “Kyle, are you going to show us where the finalists will be working on their inventions?”

“Not tonight.” Or ever. Kyle motioned to Sam. “Mr. Bentley can answer any questions you have. We designed the lab together the last few days.”

Glenda widened her smile and tugged her husband closer to Nikki James. Grateful, Kyle slipped around the buffet table and escaped. He checked his watch. Only twenty minutes until the finalists were announced.

The finalists with the ideas that would save him.

He’d spent another endless round of nights pretending to work inside his lab. Even the five-star meals prepared by Haley Waters, his personal chef, had failed to inspire him. He’d played Skee-Ball more than once in the early morning hours, searching for something with every toss of the ball. All he’d discovered was that the game was better with Ava challenging him and Ben and Dan’s laughter surrounding him. The ideas remained stuck inside him.

He’d considered arranging another visit for Ben, Dan and Ava, but nixed that thought. He wasn’t that lonesome to have people around. Even his sister hadn’t popped in to disturb the silence. Iris had texted to tell him about several job interviews she’d scheduled for the week. She hadn’t texted with news that she’d secured a new job. How was he supposed to judge his sister while he failed at his own job?

Iris circulated through the crowd, bringing her usual cheer to every guest. Not only did his sister excel at small talk, she made every person she met feel special and comfortable. She treated strangers like cherished old friends, claimed she’d never known a stranger. For one breath, he envied her. Wanted to be like her. Wanted to belong with such effortless ease.

Fortunately, his survival instinct forced him to inhale the evening air, driving that senseless wish away and returning him to more secure ground. He might stand apart, but at least he was safe there.

His gaze caught on an all-too-familiar redhead. The same redhead he’d imagined challenging him to a late-night game of Ping-Pong. The same redhead he’d want as a friend if friends were his goal.

He’d stopped looking for friends in the sixth grade. He’d been wary and distant on his return to middle school after Troy Simmons had tested Kyle’s allergy claims. In high school, he’d accepted that inviting the guy who might need an EpiPen jammed into his thigh and an ambulance ride was too much of a party buzzkill. By college, that twinge of missing out had faded. He’d been too busy with his studies and sharing his inventions with his grandfather.

Yet that almost-familiar clench to his insides, as if he’d missed being around Ava, surprised him. He’d moved on from his past and was more than satisfied with his life. After all, he had more important priorities than a misplaced wish to belong.

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