Chapter 5 : Restless

Liam

I look for Ava—not even realizing she left until I glance at the text from my driver, asking if he is meant to be taking her home. I tell him, yes, my mind still buzzing with the almost-kiss that had been so close to happening.

I have to admit, I’m disappointed.

I want to finish what we'd started, to explore the attraction that is clearly there between us—but it seems fate has other plans.

As I pace around my office, I can’t shake the thoughts of Ava from my mind. There is something about her that intrigues me beyond the nearly tangible lust that always sparks between us. I want to keep her.

I have been looking for someone who can help maintain my public image, but Ava has stirred something in me that I haven’t felt in a long time. Something that I have been missing for a long time, even.

Samantha will likely be furious if she knows I’m considering deviating from our carefully crafted plan, but I can’t ignore this. I want Ava. Why can’t she be my public girlfriend?

“Because she's young enough to be your daughter,” Sam's voice chimes in my head scornfully, and I sigh to myself. The press will eat us alive if I try to take her out public—not that we are anywhere near that level of commitment yet.

I am optimistic, though.

Blowing out a breath, I pick up my phone and dial the number of the lawyer I contacted for Ava's father. I need to check on how things are progressing, and since they didn’t call me yet, I don’t mind being a bit proactive.

After a brief conversation, I learn that the bail had been set at an exorbitant amount—2 million dollars. I sigh, knowing that this is just the beginning of the financial hurdles they will face.

"I'll wire the money," I say firmly, my fingers tapping against the bar counter as I speak to the lawyer on the phone. "And make sure to arrange security for him as well. I want him protected."

There’s no doubt in my mind that whoever is setting him up will come after him again, if only to make the whole situation disappear. It wouldn't even shock me if some of the police or the judge are in on the whole thing.

Thankfully for the Williams family, money is loud—and I have more than enough to throw at the problem for them.

I haven’t told Ava that this is pretty commonplace in shadier circles of business—but she doesn’t really need to know. She’s just a sweet girl who’s worried about her dad and caught up in something that neither of them has anything to do with.

The lawyer's relief is evident in his tone. "Of course, Mr. Johnson. We'll ensure that everything is taken care of promptly."

I nod, even though he can't see me. "Thank you. Keep me updated on his situation."

"I'll keep you informed," he promises before we both hang up.

Restlessness gnaws at me, and I realize that I need a distraction. I need to do something other than lay around the penthouse, waiting for the next time Ava needs me for something.

Ava.

I swipe a hand down my face, grimacing. Today has been wildly unproductive, with her lingering in my head. I can't stop thinking about her.

That’s why, when I find myself putting the address to the bar where she works in my phone, I don't immediately try to redirect myself. I know it's a bad idea to bother her at work, but I can't help myself.

Leaving the office, I take a roundabout way there, as if I’ll be able to change my mind at any moment and just go home.

As if I'm not completely distracted by my desire for her already, chasing after her like a moth to flame.

When I get there, I sit in the car for too long to seem normal, but thankfully, the parking lot is empty. I tap my fingers on the wheel, glance at the clock, and promise myself I will only linger an hour at most. Just to check on her. She'd been so upset this morning, after all, and I would hate for that to bleed over into her workday.

I scoff at myself, shake my head as I step out of the car, and head for the door.

I walk into the bar, my presence sorely out of place in my three-piece suit.

It's a dive, stinking of smoke, and I'm more than a bit shocked that this is where Ava works. I scan the room, my heart skipping a beat when I spot her behind the bar. She's focused on a few patrons sitting at the bar with her, grinning and wiggling her eyebrows as they talk. Even in her work clothes, she's breathtaking—maybe even better than the expensive dresses she'd been draped in before.

I walk over to the counter, my heart racing as I approach her. That never happens to me—I don't get nervous.

And yet.

Ava looks up, her smile and eyes widening in surprise when she sees me. "Liam? What are you doing here?"

I offer her a small smile, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for showing up at her place of work on a whim.

There really isn't one.

"I was in the neighborhood," I say, settling on that, watching as her lips twitch in amusement.

"Is this a bad time?" The bar is mostly empty, aside from a few people who look like they spend entirely too much time here, but I don't want to interrupt her if it's going to be a problem.

She shakes her head quickly, her cheeks turning a faint shade of pink in the dim light. "No, not at all. It's just ... unexpected."

I chuckle softly, my eyes never leaving hers. "Well, sometimes the best things in life are unexpected."

Ava's lips pull into a smile, and I feel a surge of satisfaction at having elicited that reaction from her. "I suppose you're right. What can I get for you?"

I haven't honestly thought that far. "A whiskey sour, if you don't mind."

"Not at all." Her reassurance is what convinces me to snag one of the barstools, trying not to grimace at the flaking leather. It's been a long time since I've spent my night in a place like this, but I'm making an effort not to let it show.

Someone calls for her down the bar, and she gives me an apologetic look before hurrying over, fixing them a quick drink, and circling back to me.

Ava leans against the counter, her gaze meeting mine. "So, what brings you here? I'm sure there are fancier places in the neighborhood to spend your night."

Is she flirting with me? I scan her face, wondering if I should push her like this—am I going to take this too far? Brushing off that thought, I decide to lean into it, at least a bit. If she seems uninterested, I'll back off.

At least, that's what I tell myself.

I take a sip of my drink and meet her gaze. "Couldn't get you out of my mind, I suppose."

She blinks rapidly and arches an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in her expression. "Is that so?"

I nod, not bothering to hide my sincerity. "Yeah, it is."

Ava's smile grows, and I can finally relax, realizing that she's just as into … whatever this is as I am. "Well, you certainly know how to make a girl's night."

I chuckle. "I'm glad to hear that. Maybe I'll have to come here more often."

Her eyes sparkle with mischief. "I wouldn't complain."

And for the first time in a long while, I find myself looking forward to what the future might hold.

As the night wears on, I find myself enjoying Ava's company more and more. I sit there for hours, catching her in soft conversations when she flits by to make someone a drink or pops over to see if I want another. The dingy bar becomes a backdrop to our conversation, and I'm grateful for the dim lighting that seems to soften the edges of reality.

"You know," she says with a mischievous glint in her eyes, "You're not at all what I expected."

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? And what did you expect?"

Ava has a natural charm and a way of making those around her feel at ease. She's genuine and unpretentious, a breath of fresh air in a world where appearances often matter more than substance.

She chuckles, a playful smile on her lips. "Someone more … uptight, I guess. You're different from the image the media paints of you. Even Emma, but I guess that makes more sense."

The mention of my daughter nearly drags me out of the moment. What am I even doing here? Flirting with a girl this young? Ava is watching me, and I realize this is some kind of test—she's prodding at me, looking for reassurance that this is okay.

That we're not doing anything wrong.

I wish I could give it to her.

I lean back against the barstool, crossing my arms casually. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

Ava's smile widens. "Definitely a good thing. It's nice to see the real man behind the headlines."

I appreciate her honesty and a sense of camaraderie forms between us. It's refreshing to connect with someone on a deeper level, someone who doesn't seem to have an agenda or ulterior motives. It's so hard to find these days.

I haven't been this comfortable with another person in years.

As the hours pass, the bar grows livelier, and Ava's attention is divided between serving drinks and interacting with the patrons. I watch her move with a natural grace, her laughter ringing through the air, and I find myself captivated by her.

When the clock strikes two in the morning, signaling the end of her shift, Ava finally has a moment to catch her breath. She approaches me, wiping her hands on a cloth, and I notice the weariness in her eyes.

"Long night?" I ask, and she gives me another stunning smile.

She nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, but it's been surprisingly good. Tips have been decent tonight, and … I had really good company." Her words are pointed, and I chuckle, standing.

"I'm glad to hear that," I reply, my gaze steady on her. "Would you like a ride home?" She looks torn, and I'm so pleased that she's genuinely considering it that the slow shake of her head doesn't sting.

"No, I can't leave my car here overnight," she sighs. "Thank you, though."

"Of course, Ava. Goodnight."

We linger when we make it to her car, and I wait until she's driving off until I head for my own.

I know this won’t be the last night I come to see her. I can’t stop myself. I want her.