Ava's Prize. Cari Lynn Webb
wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted to conquer the world. He’d wanted to design something that could keep people from suffering. People like his grandfather. Callie, he knew, had other plans for her life. Plans that depended on his continued funding. And those depended on his next big idea. “I’ll make the tuition payment soon.”
She looked at him as if she’d never doubted that would happen. As it always happened on the third Thursday of every month. “I wanted to tell you that I’ve been invited to continue my medical research at Oxford once I receive my doctorate degrees.”
“But that’s in England.” And nowhere near San Francisco or her family.
“It’s one of the premiere research facilities in the world.” Excitement widened her brown eyes.
How could she be thrilled about living in another country, so far away from her family? How could he not be happy for her opportunity to continue her life’s work? “Have you told Mom and Dad?”
“They’re ecstatic. At least from what I could tell.” Callie tapped a pencil against her bottom lip as if she struggled to work out the exact sequence of a DNA genome strand. “They were walking on the beach. Mom found a giant sea shell with only a small chip. Maybe they were cheering about that.” She paused, grabbed a notepad and scribbled across the paper.
Kyle waited. His sister spoke in logical order. But her thoughts always came out in scattered spurts like air in a waterline. He’d always assumed her genius brain never quieted. If she didn’t pause to record her thoughts every so often, she might miss the next big medical breakthrough.
Finally, Callie blinked into the screen. “No, I’m sure Mom wished me safe travels and Dad wanted hotel recommendations in the area. Or maybe that was the couple with them. I think they’re planning a trip up the Gulf Coast. Doesn’t matter. Oxford wants me.”
Kyle wanted to wish his sister well. Share her excitement. But only sadness circled through him.
Four years ago, their grandfather had died unexpectedly, and their family had splintered without the glue that had been Papa Quinn. Kyle had inherited his grandpa’s vintage 1965 Mustang. Along with the last of his grandfather’s wisdom on a handwritten note left inside the Mustang’s glove box: “When you take a wrong turn, Kyle, a guiding hand and full heart will lead you home where you belong.”
Kyle’s family had taken several wrong turns after Papa Quinn’s passing, and the distance between his family had only widened further. Then Kyle had signed his contract with Tech Realized, Inc. Honoring his grandfather’s memory had filled his bank account. The money he’d always intended to help guide his family back together.
Now he funded dual degrees that would only take his sister farther from home. Worry mixed with the sadness. She was a scientist, not an experienced world traveler. How was he supposed to protect her from a continent away? He should protect her. She’d always been there for him in grade school. More than once, she’d stepped in to deflect the bullies’ attention off him and on to her with her oversize books and even thicker bottle-size glasses.
The buzzer from the street entrance hummed through the suite. Kyle tucked his concern away, certain he’d come up with something to entice his little sister home. Something like her own research lab, custom built to her specifications. “That’s my company.”
Callie had already returned to her notepad and had pulled her microscope into view. “Don’t be like Iris and get distracted, Kyle. Send them away and get back to what really matters. You can’t lose focus of what’s really important.”
With that, Callie clicked off. No “I love you.” No “talk to you soon.” No “I hope you visit me in England.” Only an order to work and a caution not to be like their oldest sister, Iris. Kyle’s problem was he struggled to focus on what was important: a new idea.
He checked his emails on the way to the entrance. Still no response from his potential judges. Not even a terse thank-you, or any thank-you at all. He’d take his sister’s advice. Offer a quick tour and then send the trio waiting outside on their way. They’d understand he had to work. If they didn’t, what would it matter? They weren’t friends, and this was a onetime offer.
He pressed the button to unlock the main entrance door that led into the lobby and spoke through the intercom, telling them to come up to the second floor.
Kyle opened the door to the suite and welcomed his guests inside. He would’ve explained his plans to work that afternoon if Ben hadn’t disrupted the silence with a drawn-out whoa.
Kyle shut the door and turned around to find the young boy bouncing from one foot to the other, his gaze darting around the suite. Ben never moved from his father’s side, as if he waited for a referee to blow a start whistle to let the games begin.
“You work here?” Ava stood with her arms crossed and one eyebrow arched. Clearly, she wasn’t as impressed by his personal arcade space (aka inspiration area) as Ben.
“I live here, too.” Kyle grinned at the disbelief Ava failed to hide. His grin widened at her resistance to smile. Suddenly, all he wanted was to make Ava smile. Suddenly, that became important. That became his focus, even as he told himself to concentrate on something else.
“Cool.” Ben failed to hide his awe.
Dan rubbed his chin and nodded. “Can’t see anything I’d add.”
“How about books or candles? Maybe some colorful throw pillows or picture frames to break up all the gray and black,” Ava suggested.
Ava, with her red hair sweeping past her shoulders and green eyes, brought color into the monochrome room. The room was quiet and subdued without the arcade turned on, the screens lit up and the sounds of the game over music playing. All the room wanted was someone to press Play. Kyle didn’t know what he wanted. But he liked welcoming Ava into his home. “It wasn’t designed to be a meditation room.”
“Clearly,” Ava said. Her gaze jumped around the room, taking everything in. Even better, she never retreated toward the door.
“This should appeal to you, Ava.” Dan shoved her shoulder. “You love that pub with the ’80s arcade games and pool tables south of the city.”
Busted. Ava avoided Kyle’s gaze. He longed to laugh. She didn’t want to like his place. Too bad he didn’t want to like having her there. He’d planned to send them away quickly and without much fanfare. Now he hesitated, and that irritated him.
He’d always have to question whether a woman genuinely liked him—the guy with the deadly nut allergy, who preferred arcade games and comic books and his family. The one who tended to believe if the money went away, so might the woman.
The news reports about him wanting to find love on a reality TV show were completely false. Yet there was something about Ava that tugged at places deep inside him. Places he’d learned to ignore years ago. Places he buried under his flush bank accounts, confident money would fill any void.
He admitted Ava was attractive like he acknowledged a flaw in one of his 3-D designs. He’d fix an error in his design with several keystrokes on the computer. The only way to fix Ava was to ignore his interest in her. Ignore that tightness inside his chest. File her into the same category as every other attractive woman he’d met: unavailable, off-limits and a disruption to his life.
“Aunty, you always want to play Skee-Ball.” Ben pointed across the room. “Here we don’t have to wait in line.”
“Or wipe down the machines before we use them.” Dan looked at Kyle. “I’m not kidding. She carries those antibacterial wipes with her everywhere we go.”
Ava threw up her hands. “Just trying to keep everyone from getting sick.”
Dan wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her. “We appreciate it, even if you act more like an overly cautious grandmother sometimes.”
Ben giggled and followed Kyle farther into the room, cutting between