The Christmas Pic

21. Ava

CHAPTER 21

AVA

We decide to divide and conquer since we have limited time. Max and Emma break off to revamp the truck’s social media presence, despite Emma’s obvious annoyance with both Max and myself, while Jo and I head to the local mechanic to pay for the HVAC and seat repair on the truck. Covering it is the least I can do–and the most, too, unfortunately.

I sit in the driver’s seat of the rental as we ride to the shop. Jo chews on her lip.

“I think we should throw an event,” I broach.

She lets a classic Jo side-eye slip. “You mean, your Board thinks we should throw an event?”

Nothing gets past her. “Well–” I stutter.

“Go on.” Her gaze flicks down my body then snaps back to meet my eyes. Is this what being intimidated feels like?

“We need something to get the word out there that the truck is forty years old, but better than ever,” I pitch. “Center our narrative around the fact that Chrissy is a staple of the community.”

We stop at a traffic light. “Okay, Ms. Marketer,” she says, a slight spark coming back into her eyes. “But we’ll be competing with the Chosen Family Festival. That’ll never work. ”

“What’s that?”

“Right before Christmas, everyone joins together to celebrate the beginnings of our town,” she explains. “It’s how the founders came up with the idea to create Harmony Springs. At their own gathering with their dearest friends–their chosen family.”

“What if we’re part of the festival?”

Jo shakes her head. “Not a chance. They start booking the next festival on New Year’s Day and I didn’t have the funds to pay for a spot when sign-ups opened last January. We can’t just try to join at the last minute.”

“We’re not trying anything. We’re doing,” I say. “We’re not taking no for an answer.” I pull into the mechanic’s parking lot.

She takes one last look at me, as if she’s trying to get a read, but I steady myself. Unfortunately for her, my poker face can contend with the best of them. I can’t let my feelings overrun the mission. It’s already happened once, and I paid the consequences. Not again .

Twelve grand later, we land back at Jo’s. Mikey cut us a decent deal compared to LA mechanics, but Jo still flinched when I put down my AmEx.

“All right, that’s that,” Jo says, getting out of the car.

“What about the studio renovations?” There’s still so much of the plan we need to execute, despite not having the truck, and I am not letting her slack off now.

“Oh.” Her lips turn down in surprise. “I didn’t think girlbosses such as yourself did that sort of thing.”

I laugh, genuinely. I’ve been called a girlboss as an insult before, but hearing it come out of Jo’s mouth tickles me in that boys-flirt-by-calling-you-mean-names-on-the-playground kind of way. Except I never had that until now. When in Harmony Springs, I suppose .

“Girlbosses girlboss however they see fit. And right now, I think it’s time for us to girlboss the shit out of this truck.”

“I suppose that has nothing to do with the fact that it’s Christmas break and every contractor in town is too busy to take on the project?”

“Not at all,” I fib.

I will never get sick of her grin.

“Come with me to the shed so we can make a list of what we need,” she calls out over her shoulder, already on her way.

“Good thing you’re not wearing another pantsuit,” Jo snickers as we walk down a crowded aisle at Handy Hardware (apparently the owner’s last name is Handy, but they embrace the double entendre). The place is a mess, but in an adorable, locally chic kind of way.

“I would never desecrate designer like that,” I say, stepping over a Baby Jesus fountain to grab a gorgeous wood sample. “What do you think of this for the floors?”

“I mean, it’s beautiful, obviously. It’s just so expensive in comparison to the laminate, no?”

“Jo.” I literally put my foot down and I don’t even mean to.

“Sorry, right,” she waves me off. “I’m new to the whole sparing-no-expense thing.”

“Well, you better get used to it.”

“Oh, yeah?”

I search for a flirtatious comeback but nothing materializes.

Why is flirting with women so much harder?

We keep walking, sample in hand. Jo shakes her head.

“What?” I say.

“You’re… interesting, Ava.”

“I’m not doing this to be nice, you know,” I say.

“I know,” she says.

“I can’t have a business I’m associated with looking bad. ”

“I know,” she says again, a sly grin spreading across her lips.

“You two have a minute?” Emma asks me and Jo. While Jo and I spent all of yesterday designing the new interior, Emma and Max continued to toil over the truck’s online presence. “We’ve got an update on the website if you want to check it out.”

Max makes a few clicks on Jo’s ancient excuse for a computer and reveals a gorgeous Squarespace, fit with a brand new booking system and eye-catching portfolio. It’s clean, but still fitting with their larger-than-life brand.

“You two are still on my shit list, but Max is a literal genius,” Emma says, matter-of-factly.

Max is good, but to pull that off on this piece of shit?

“You pulled that off on this piece of shit?” Jo gapes.

I chuckle. “So you admit it.”

She’s not so proud in the face of Max’s feat.

“There were moments we both wanted to pull our hair out, but I think we made it work,” Max tells us.

“I’ll say,” I smile, proud of all we’ve done together. This is the kind of shit I live for. Growing a business. Scrapping everything in my power together to make it work. These are my roots. I hardly knew I missed it.

“Would you all mind getting started on measurements while we… meet with members of the city council?” Jo asks Max and Emma, scratching her head.

“Members of the city council?” Emma raises an eyebrow.

“Yes!” I say. “I contacted Harmony Springs’ council to schedule a meeting about featuring the truck at the Holiday Festival. We’re chatting with someone named… Wynnie?”

“You’re chatting with Wynnie ?” Emma gapes.

“What did Wynnie ever do to you?” I laugh.

“What did she do to me ? More like what did she do to–” Emma starts, but Jo silences her with a glare, something I’ll be Sherlock Holmes-ing later.

Our chat on the ride over is surprisingly pleasant. I can sense Jo softening toward me. It’s nice to think that we can move past our ill-fated fling. Now we can focus on being friends. That’s normal, right? And friends deserve the scoop on members of the city council.

“So?” I say, pulling the rental into the Town Hall parking lot. “What’s the beef with Wynnie?”

“Nope. No. Not getting into that.” Jo gets out of the car and I scramble to catch up with her as she walks toward the building.

“I think I should be aware. For business purposes.” I cajole. “You want me to work my magic in there, I need intel on what we’re dealing with.”

Jo stops before she reaches the entrance. She takes a deep, deep breath, then rapid-fires: “Wynnie was my ex. She’s straight. She broke my heart in high school. The end.”

Before I can muster a response, the woman of the hour flings open the double doors in all her Midwestern Beauty Queen glory.

“Hiiiiiiiiii! Jooooo! It’s so good to seeeeee yoooou!” she purrs.

Is it too soon to say I hate this bitch?