He’d always assumed that one day he’d be a father, and until that time he’d have preferred not to think about it. No such luck with this subcommittee assignment. He was elbow deep in all the gritty stuff that happened between two pleasant events.
“Why aren’t we going to bother?”
“I met with the local midwife I told you about—Marissa. Let’s just say it didn’t go well.”
“Elaborate.” He drove well under the speed limit, and hoped she didn’t notice.
Ivey turned to him. “It’s not only the doctors that don’t like the idea of midwives in a hospital setting. The midwife I talked to seems to think it’s a crazy idea. The last place she wants her patients to be is in a hospital.”
“Why?” Granted he hadn’t specialized in obstetrics, but he understood and had studied how much could go wrong. It made sense to be in the hospital.
“Because this seems to be an ‘us-versus-them’ argument. I guess we’re messing with thousands of years of tradition, and no one likes change. I thought I would get support from a midwife, because women who are too paranoid to give birth at home at least have another option.”
“But again, why would women give birth at home when they could go to the hospital?” A stupid question, he was almost certain of it, but he dared to ask it anyway.
She blinked. “Haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve told you?”
“Yeah. Listening.” Mostly. Between, of course, the hard pulls of lust he felt every time she was in the room. But he could do more than one thing at a time, and he’d be willing to prove it.
“If you’d been listening, you would know that birth is a natural event, and it shouldn’t be treated like a medical condition. The less intervention, the better. Unless absolutely necessary.”
“You had me at absolutely necessary.”
“Fair enough. It happens sometimes. Unexpectedly. We can’t anticipate every problem. That’s why I thought a good compromise would be the women’s center.”
“It makes sense. Why does the midwife object?”
“Because, as you said about your pal Dr. Stewart, she sees it as a slippery slope.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, then he spoke because before long he’d be pulling into the exclusive gated condo her aunt lived in. It was the only one in town. “So what are we going to do?”
She turned to him, the light in her eyes that made him a goner. “We? Does that mean I’ve already convinced you, Dr. Garner?”
He couldn’t help but grin. “Congratulations. I think we should make our recommendation that the board hire a staff of midwives and let them decide.”
She stared out the window. “I don’t know.”
He didn’t either, because he was afraid he’d left something unfinished with Ivey. And it wasn’t because he was lonely, but because he’d been an idiot.
He wasn’t quite done with being an idiot. He pulled up to the condo gate, and Ivey recited the security code, which he punched in. “So—dinner Friday night? We have to make it look good. Make it clear to everyone in town that we’re friends and they can stop taking sides.”
“Maybe,” she said, uncertainty wavering in her eyes. That one look hit him square in the gut, because he could see the worry etched in her eyes. She didn’t trust herself with him. “You mean you’re not working this Friday?”
“I meant next Friday.”
Ivey looked gratifyingly disappointed. “That’s right. I forgot you’re not spontaneous.”
“Hard to be, with a schedule like mine.”
Now she looked guilty. “Of course. I didn’t mean anything by it. But should we? This Friday, next Friday. Neither one is a good idea.”
They’d have to agree to disagree on that. This was one of the best ideas he’d had in months. “I promise I’ll behave.”
“You better. Seven o’clock.” She wrenched herself out of her seat and fixed him with a look. “And don’t be late.”
He wouldn’t dream of it.
7
Within a week Ivey’s SUV had been repaired and driven back to her home by none other than Tim, who might have suffered a crisis of conscience. He left a pink ribbon taped to the windshield, in case she had any doubts as to his apology.
Maybe Jeff was right. It was a matter of winning the hearts and minds of every misguided person. Sooner or later they’d see that Jeff and Ivey weren’t interested in anyone taking sides, and the pink and blue ribbons would be a funny story she could tell her grandchildren someday.
Of course, they wouldn’t be Jeff’s grandchildren. It was too late for them, even though that fact seemed to make her a little bit sadder every day.
Recently she’d had the occasional random thought that maybe it could work this time. Maybe this time he’d realize how much he loved her, and—great, she was doing it again. No. Just friends, Ivey. Friends, and nothing more.
Jeff had left the hospital to pick her up simply because he’d felt guilty, and not because he still had any feelings for her. He would certainly not be willing to rearrange his life for her in any way, to get married because he loved her, whether the timing was right or not.
He would go where his career took him, because that was of primary importance. It came first in his life, and she was a selfish brat for ever thinking she deserved more. Someday he’d find an understanding woman who would put up with late nights at the hospital. And it wouldn’t be her. She had to be done with all that.
She’d turned over a new leaf, and it was all Ivey, all the time. Numero uno, baby. Sounded horrible, but there it was. Brooke said it was a good idea anyway.
That’s why she would do this dinner thing with Jeff tonight as he’d suggested. Because her own reputation was on the line, especially if she was going to stay here and make a life here.
When her doorbell rang on Friday evening, Ivey took one last glance in the mirror and then reminded herself it didn’t matter a hill of beans what she looked like. Friends.
But when she opened the door, words failed her. Jeff was dressed in dark blue jeans and a white button-down, rolled up to his elbows. Casual but oh-so handsome.
“The security guy at the gate thinks your name is Iris.”
“Oh,” Ivey said as she snapped out of it. “Yeah, Ron does that.”
“Ready?” Jeff asked, braced in her doorway.
She supposed she could let him in, but that wouldn’t accomplish their purpose. They needed to be seen publically having fun, laughing, and being friendly. Definitely not kissing.
She grabbed her purse. “Let’s go.”
As Jeff’s car passed the security gate on the way out, Ivey asked Jeff to roll down the window. She leaned across. “My name is Ivey. Ivey Lancaster. Not Iris. That’s another flower. I’m Ivey with a V.”
The man blinked. Jeff grinned, and as he rolled the window back up, he asked, “You’re only now correcting him?”
“I didn’t see much point to it. First I thought I’d be a short-timer around here. And after a while, it got awkward. I didn’t want to embarrass him. He’s been saying it wrong for a while.”
“You’ve got to stop doing that. Worrying too much about other people’s feelings.”
“Exactly. That’s what that was all about.”
They rode the short drive to the middle of town in silence. Jeff pulled into Giancarlo’s Bistro.
“This is where we’re going?” It was one of the highest-rated Italian restaurants in Starlight Hill, known for serving the best wines in the valley. Giancarlo himself was almost a legend in Starlight Hill, having raised some of the best-looking girls in town and earned lonely attractive widower status about ten years ago when he lost his blessed wife. But Ivey hadn’t really considered Giancarlo’s to be the heart of the rumor mill. And also, it was mostly a place for lovers.
“There’s a method to my madness. There’s a chamber of commerce dinner here tonight. And Giancarlo’s daughter Sophia is home from college. She likes to talk. A lot.”
“You’ve given this a lot of thought. Perfect.” Leave it to Jeff to find the most expedient way. He had more brains in his little finger than she had in her whole head.
There was a reason he’d been class valedictorian, and she—hadn’t been, not even close.
Jeff led the way, opening doors and making her feel like they were on a real date. She should tell him to stop doing that, but it might be rude. Not to mention that she was rather enjoying it. It reminded her that she hadn’t been on a real date with a real man since—she couldn’t remember.
Giancarlo greeted them. “Dr. Jeff. Ivey. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Ivey sized him up—blue or pink ribbon? Hard to tell. “It’s not a date,” she blurted out.
“Right,” Jeff added. “Just dinner. I have reservations for two.”
“Follow me,” the gentle Italian said as he walked them to a table near the back.
“Could we have something near the front?” Ivey asked.
Giancarlo then led them to a table in the center of the room. “Would this satisfy?”
“Yes,” Jeff said, holding the chair out for Ivey.
“Sorry, Giancarlo. But we need to be seen,” Ivey said as she took the menu.
“Ah.” Giancarlo leaned in, then whispered. “By whom?”
“By everyone, of course.”
Giancarlo simply smiled and nodded, then walked away. He was the kind of man who never questioned anyone’s quirks, and for that she was grateful.
“Blue or pink ribbon?” Ivey asked Jeff, pointing behind her menu towards Giancarlo.
“Neither,” Jeff answered. “He seemed to stay out of it, somehow.”
“Bless him. So how are we going to do this?”
“Let’s look happy.” Jeff smiled, and he did look content. Didn’t even look like he faked it.
Giancarlo brought them a bottle of white wine on the house, and after the ritual of sniffing and swirling had been accomplished, Ivey reminded Giancarlo that she didn’t drink.
Still, when a couple she recognized walked past them, Ivey held up her glass in a mock toast with Jeff, who followed her lead. She smiled. Jeff smiled. The couple gave them an odd look and kept walking.
“Is this working?” Ivey asked uncertainly. For the first time since they’d walked in the restaurant, she took a nice long look at Jeff.
He looked relaxed. The furrow in his forehead eased, and he had on his lazy smile. She hadn’t seen that one in a long time, and it so happened to be her favorite.
Maybe she’d done this. He was happy, free from obligations other than to his career. A doctor now the way he’d always dreamed and planned.
“Be patient,” he said with that drop dead gorgeous grin.
Yeah well, she’d never been good with patience but always better at easing burdens, starting with Mama. Continuing with Jeff and their little bump in the road. Nothing had stopped his forward trajectory, thanks to her. Someday she’d tell him. But today would not be that day.
“Did you date anyone in LA after Joe?” Jeff asked.
Well. At least he got the fake name right for once. “Um, not really. I became a serial dater. No one special. And you?”
“Same. Although my sister keeps trying to fix me up. For the past year that I’ve been back, she hasn’t really given it a rest.”
Ivey squirmed. Yeah, she wouldn’t be surprised. Ali had always been protective of her little brother, which meant that she probably owned a case full of blue ribbons.
“And I’m guessing that since I got back into town she’s really stepped it up.”
“Maybe.” Jeff’s finger trailed the edge of the butter knife. Ivey had never wanted to be a piece of silverware before, but at the moment she did. She had a sudden unbidden memory return of what those hands felt like on her skin.
“She seems to think you and I are like a pair of magnets.” He met her eyes again, not for the first time tonight. But it was the first time that Ivey felt a tug deep in her gut.
She opened her mouth to speak, and a raucous noise came from the direction of the banquet room. A large group was filing out, which meant that the chamber meeting was likely ending, and they would be walking right by her and Jeff. Perfect.
Ophelia Lyndstrom, owner of the fabric store, was the first to see them. “Look at these two! Together again. It does an old woman’s heart good. This is wonderful. No more ribbons. I’ve seen enough ribbon to last me a lifetime. Enough already.”
“We haven’t had the ribbons in years. What are you babbling about now?” Kevin Morrison, the cigar shop owner, came up behind her, and when Jeff and Ivey came into his line of sight he scowled. “Not this again.”
“Our town can’t go through this again. What are you kids trying to do to us?” This was from Henry Brandt, owner of the only market in town.
This wasn’t going as well as she’d hoped. Jeff’s expression said that he felt the same way. “We wanted everyone to know they can stop the madness. Ivey and I are friends. No hard feelings. No more blue and pink ribbons, and no more divided loyalties.”
“That’s right, Henry. It’s none of our business if these two kids want to get back together, break up, get back together. They could do it a hundred times and it still wouldn’t be any of our business,” Ophelia said, waving her hands back and forth.
The rest of the Chamber members had gathered around their table to stare, making Ivey feel like a sideshow sensation.
She heard whispered words:
“her fault…,”
“blue ribbon…,”
“doctor…,”
“online dating…,”
“not a lick of sense… ”
Enough. Ivey stood up. “All right, you all. Jeff and I are friends, and that ought to be enough for all of you. And by the way, in case anyone’s interested, he broke up with me!”
All eyes then turned to Jeff, who sat rubbing his jaw, a slight grin on his face. “It’s true.”
“You never said that.” Ophelia didn’t look happy. Score one for Ivey.
“And you didn’t ask. Plus, it was none of your business.” Score one for Jeff. Damn, a tie.
Some grumbling ensued, and within a few minutes the chamber members filed out of the restaurant, all one cohesive unit. Like a school of fish.
“Well I think we’ve got that settled.” Now maybe she could enjoy her dinner.
“I do like it when you get all riled up.” Jeff grinned, which did all manner of odd things to her stomach.
Their waitress sauntered over to them, and held her phone above her, bending down next to Ivey. “Selfie!”
Ivey was in the middle of the word no when the young woman snapped the photo.
“That was awesome. Okay if I put this on the Facebook page?”
“Ivey, this is Giancarlo’s daughter Sophia. Remember I told you about her?” Jeff threw Ivey a pointed look.
“Oh right. Sure, put it on Facebook and Twitter, everywhere. Let’s get another one, maybe one without my mouth open.” Ivey brushed back her hair, smoothed down her dress, and sat up straighter.
“Dr. Garner, you get in there too.” Sophia motioned to Jeff.
No need to do so, because he’d moved in closer without having to be asked. Ivey could already feel his warm skin next to hers, and he’d casually slipped an arm around her shoulder. Once that arm had been like a second skin, but now the sheer strength of it made Ivey feel like she had a barbell on her shoulder. She stiffened, aware that Giancarlo was looking on, smiling. Enjoying this little show they were putting on. Because that’s all it was, a show.
Sophia snapped two or three photos, and when she was done, Jeff’s hand slid down Ivey’s shoulder to her waist, like it had any business being there. Maybe announcing their friendship to the town was a great idea, but it might be a whole lot better if he could stop looking at her like she was his dinner.
“Are you trying to cop a feel?” She shifted away from his touch.
He lifted a shoulder. “Trying to make it look
real.”
Right now this was all beginning to feel a little too much like a walk down memory lane. But she wasn’t going to take that stroll again. Been there, done that.
Survived him.
But how nice to be out with a man who didn’t want her to run lines with him or ask her whether she thought it was a wise investment to have his teeth capped.
Giancarlo brought their orders, and it felt good to be with someone who wouldn’t question why she didn’t drink. Who chose not to drink either, not because he had to, but maybe because he understood. He knew her history.
Jeff knew about Mama and her drinking. All about the accident that had claimed her life and thank God no one else’s. He also knew that Ivey not only couldn’t hold her liquor, but that after the accident she simply refused to drink on principle. And even though he didn’t share her feelings, he respected them.
“It’s actually nice to have dinner with someone who doesn’t want to recite lines with me later.”
Jeff quirked an eyebrow. “Actors?”
“All of my serial dating involved men who either were actors or on the way to becoming actors. I’ve had many different roles, I’ll have you know. Unfortunately, mostly I’ve played criminals. Cop shows, you know, they’re so popular. I’ve been a detective on the take, a hooker, and a junkie.”
“So playing against type.”
“My dates always had the best lines. It got old after a while. But I did have other, far more pertinent influence on the actors of today.”
“Like?”
“To cap or not to cap teeth? To wax or not to wax the chest hair?”
Jeff winced.
He happened to have the best kind of man’s chest in her opinion—a light sprinkling of hair, not too hairy and not too bare. Like Goldilocks’s bed—just right. He’d never wax his chest. If he ever did, Ivey would know for certain that hell had frozen over.
He looked at her now, those brown eyes assessing her, making her feel emotions she didn’t want to feel and have thoughts she didn’t want to have.
Starlight Hill: Complete collection 1-8 Page 7
