Read Online Who You Know by Theresa Alan - Free Book Online Page A

next to several other dancers. The other dancers looked stuck up and pissed off. They were smiling rigid, toothless smiles, and their hair was pulled back into such severely tight buns it looked painful. Avery, on the other hand, had a friendly, genuine smile. Her curly hair had been much longer then, and it was pulled back into a loose ponytail, framing her face with tendrils of blond curls.
    Avery set a scone in front of me and sat down.
    â€œAvery, yum, you’ve outdone yourself.” I savored another bite before changing the subject. “So how is Art?”
    Avery looked down at the scone on her plate and smiled. “Good.”
    â€œAre you two ever going to meet?”
    â€œI think so, but I’m not in any rush.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œI guess I’m scared. I kind of don’t trust myself to get into another relationship.” She paused, stared out at nothing in particular, as if she were carefully weighing each word. “When I was in New York I dated a guy I later found out was a drug runner; my first love cheated on me left and right; and Gideon was a total disaster.” She spoke slowly, cautiously, nothing like the verbal diarrhea I, Mom, and Jen used, always saying the first thing that came into our heads and regretting it later. “I’ll probably end up dating a convict or rapist next. E-mailing Art is really fun; I just don’t want to ruin anything.”
    â€œThe whole thing is so romantic. I’m sort of jealous.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œAnything could happen. It’s so exciting.”
    â€œOr nothing could happen.”
    Avery and I finished our scones and talked for another twenty minutes or so before Avery said she needed to get back to work. I didn’t want her to go. I didn’t want to face my quiet apartment all alone.
    â€œIs everything okay?” Avery asked.
    â€œI’m fine. It’s just . . . Greg is going to be gone tonight, and I’m just so sick of being all alone in my stupid apartment.”
    â€œCome over for dinner tonight.”
    â€œAvery, that’s sweet, but you don’t have to.”
    â€œI love to cook. It’ll be fun. I’ll see if Jen can come.”
    â€œYeah? Are you sure? I love your cooking. It’s a date.”
    Â 
    Â 
    T he first thing I did when I got home was check my voicemail for messages. Nothing. Nada. I was clearly unemployable. I would have to go to trucking school or one of the technical colleges they advertised endlessly in commercials on daytime TV.

AVERY
    The Hug Club
    I had Jen and Rette over for dinner. I made grilled vegetables, polenta, and Gorgonzola cheese, building a vegetable pyramid of Portobello mushrooms and zucchini on top of the polenta and topping it with the cheese, and arranging the asparagus, grilled tomatoes, and peppers around it in a circle. I drizzled a rich cream sauce over it all.
    â€œAvery, you are such a domestic goddess. It looks gorgeous,” Rette said.
    I opened a bottle of red wine and poured each of us a glass. “Thanks.”
    â€œSo not like I’m going to get the job, but just in case, tell me everything about this great company of yours. Ave, you’ve been there the longest. What’s the scoop?”
    â€œThe scoop. Well, the company is six years old now; I’ve been there for five years. It was founded by Morgan McKenna. He’s a small, wiry man with a sort of . . . I think some people think of him as being kind of abrasive. He’s super smart, and you know how sometimes really intelligent people don’t always have the best people skills? He has a Ph.D. in psychology, which is kind of strange because he seems much more interested in statistics than people. Morgan is kind of . . . he’s very particular. Everything has to be cleared through him.”
    â€œAvery, sometimes you’re so nice it’s too annoying for words,” Jen said. “He’s a micromanaging control