Page 38 of Aussie
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Saturday arrived, and Ava found herself immersed in a winter wonderland. The Annual Snowball was a vision of winter elegance, capturing the magic of the season with breathtaking decor. Soft blues, crisp whites, and shimmering silver filled the hotel ballroom. Snowflakes of various shapes and sizes hung from the ceiling, casting a delicate glow under the crystal chandeliers. Twinkling lights gave the illusion of gentle snowfall, and tables were draped in white linen with centerpieces of silver branches frosted in faux snow, accented with icy blue glass ornaments.
It was a stunning sight, and Ava couldn’t help but feel a little swept up in the beauty of it.
But as she sipped her champagne and walked the room, her dark navy blue gown trailing behind her, she couldn't shake the emptiness of being there alone. She was still a little bummed that Aussie couldn’t make it, though she understood he had a job to do. Still, she wished he were here with her, even if just for a dance or two.
As her eyes scanned the room, she offered polite smiles and nods to those who greeted her. She’d barely made it halfway across the ballroom when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Ava.” A familiar voice greeted her, though it lacked the warmth that once brought a bit of comfort to her.
When she turned, she found Jarod standing there. His tuxedo was perfectly tailored. The smile on his face was overkill.
She forced a polite smile as she tried to tamp down her irritation. “Jarod,” she greeted, her tone flat and lacking any excitement.
Ignoring her coldness, he slipped easily into a version of himself she knew well—polished, confident, and slightly arrogant.
“Wow, Ava. You look stunning,” he told her as his eyes raked over her body.
“Thank you,” she replied. She had no intention to return the compliment.
As the soft music played in the background, an awkward silence settled between the two.
Jarod was the first to speak. “Listen, Ava,” he started as he stepped closer. “we really need to—”
“This isn’t the place or time to get into that,” Ava interrupted, her tone firm but calm. “Clint asked me to give you this.” She handed him the sealed envelope, her fingers brushing his briefly before she stepped back, reclaiming her space.
Jarod took the envelope but didn’t open it. Instead, his eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re leaving already?”
“I only came to make an appearance and to give you that since Clint couldn’t make it,” she said. “I’ll let you get back to the gala.” She turned to leave, but his hand closed around her arm, not hard, but enough to stop her.
“Ava, wait,” he said, his voice carrying a mix of insistence and something she couldn’t quite place.
She stiffened, pulling her arm free with a quick motion. Before she could say anything, a group of men approached, their laughter and conversation cutting through the tension. Jarod turned to them, his expression shifting to one of easy camaraderie.
“Gentlemen, good to see you,” Jarod greeted, his tone affable. He pressed his hand against the small of her back as if he had every right to put it there. His possessive touch prickled at her, but she forced herself to remain composed. The last thing she wanted to do was make a scene.
Ava’s eyes swept over the group. She recognized a few faces. Some were city officials, and others were donors she’d seen at other events. But there was one man who stood out. He was tall and handsome. But the way his dark eyes were fixated on her made her uneasy.
“Ava,” Jarod said, gesturing to the man who hadn’t taken his eyes off her, “this is Ezekiel Moore. Ezekiel is an entrepreneur and philanthropist. He owns the largest furniture business in the area.”
Ezekiel stepped forward, taking Ava’s hand in his and bringing it to his lips.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ava,” he said, looking into her eyes. His gaze was almost predatory, and his voice dripped with a charm that felt invasive.
She forced a polite smile, gently pulling her hand back. “Likewise.”
“We hear that you are involved in social work. What is that like?” Ezekiel asked as he took a sip of his champagne.
Ava was caught off guard by Ezekiel’s question. How did he know she was a social worker? But the bigger question was, who was talking about her? She glanced at Jarod and gave him an accusing look. He had to have been the one.
She turned back toward Ezekiel. “Social work can be a rewarding career, Mr. Moore. But at the same time, it is very challenging.” She kept her answers brief but professional.
The conversation continued for a few more minutes, but Ava’s discomfort grew with every passing second. Finally, as a lull settled over the group, she started to excuse herself.
“Are you leaving so soon?” Ezekiel asked, stepping closer to her. “I was hoping that I could buy you a drink, and we could talk more.”
How was she going to get out of this?Think quick, Ava!
