Ivy Entwined

by Laura Simcox

  …

  The phone rang, startling her awake, and she looked up at the clock. Fifteen minutes had passed. She’d been asleep at her desk and she still hadn’t done anything about lunch. Great. She snatched up the receiver. “This is Ivy.”

  “Hey, Ivy. I’ve got a club sandwich with your name on it. You hungry?” Crystal Waters yelled over the din of noise at The Lovin’ Cup.

  Ivy pulled the phone away from her ear slightly. “You read my mind. But I’ll have to be quick. I’m presenting my renewal plan today at the town council meeting.”

  “Yeah, about that. Most of them are in here right now, and they’re waiting for you,” Crystal said, more quietly.

  “What?”

  “It’s the second Wednesday of the month. Aren’t you having your meeting here?” Crystal asked.

  “Be right there,” Ivy said. She hung up. The town council met at the diner? Why hadn’t anyone told her? Did they just assume she’d know every little weird custom that went along with being the mayor of Celebration? Yes. Just like it was assumed that she know the Xerox machine on the first floor jammed at twenty-two copies. Or that in order not to be locked in the records room, a little block of wood had to be stuck between the bottom of the door and the jamb.

  She let out an exasperated sigh. Well, at least she’d get food. But she wouldn’t get a break. She stood up and grabbed the leather folio full of well-organized notes for the meeting and scooped up her red coat and a pair of gloves. There was no point in chastising Sherry for not mentioning the tradition of meeting at the diner at lunchtime. Like everyone else, she probably thought that Ivy already knew.

  Sherry glanced up as Ivy shut her office door. “I want a piece of coconut cream pie,” she announced. “If they’re out, I’ll take cherry.” She waved a five-dollar bill at Ivy.

  Ivy smiled at her, ignoring the money. “It’s on me. It’s the least I can do to pay you back for riding herd on Preston.”

  “Oh, please. I haven’t done much.”

  “You’ve kept him from walking into my office fifty times a day. That’s something.” Ivy pulled on her coat and gloves and stuffed the folio under her arm.

  “He’s trying to impress you.” Sherry grinned. “Is it working?”

  “No.” She paused. “I take that back. I think he found a buyer for the bakery.”

  Sherry’s mouth dropped open.

  “Shh,” Ivy replied.

  Sherry made a zipping motion across her lips.

  Ivy nodded and left city hall, walking briskly across the town commons and down Main Street to the diner. When she opened the door, sleigh bells jingled and fifty or more heads turned in unison. Most of the town council sat at a four-top table in the far corner of the diner with half-eaten plates of food in front of them.

  “There she is!” Alberta clapped her hands and smiled. Next to her, Herman shoveled a forkful of hash browns into his mouth and glared. Ronald swiveled in his seat and beckoned to Ivy like she was a waitress. She ignored him and walked over to pat Alberta on the shoulder.

  “I was under the impression that we were meeting later. Sorry I’m late.” Ivy gave the table a tight smile.

  Ronald wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “Your dad used to have the meetings here once a month. We still can, right? We’re all here, and I gotta get back to work soon.”

  “That grocery store will be more than fine without you,” Alberta said with a huff.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Look here, old bag. That place would fall apart without me. You have no idea what I have to put up with every day. Just yesterday somebody messed up all the pickles, and the cereal aisle? Don’t get me started.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t!” Alberta turned to Ivy. “In any case, we could continue, couldn’t we? Preston’s here. He said he wouldn’t join us until you got here.” She pointed to a far-off booth and Ivy looked.

  There he was, hunched over a bowl of soup, sitting alone near the window. Why did he have such a chip on his shoulder? He wasn’t even giving Celebration a chance to like him, which was really not good since he was the town planner. Yet another thing she was going to have to deal with. She motioned him over.

  “You gonna call us to order, or what?” Herman demanded.

  “Well,” Ivy said, “It’s not supposed to be a public meeting—”

  “Nope, that’s next week,” supplied Ronald. He took a giant bite of his burger and stared at her.

  “That’s not really what I meant,” she answered.

  “Oh, hell. We already got that ten-page memo you sent out. We discussed your big plan, and we’re all in favor.” Herman slapped his hands on the table. “My rich nephew is writing a big fat check. Your ex-boyfriend is gonna find some businesses to move into Ronald’s and my properties. And then we two are gonna sit back and collect the rent. What else is there?”

  “The Christmas Festival.” Ivy replied, trying to keep the snap out of her voice. She grabbed a chair from an empty table and pulled it up. What the hell? She’d been worrying about this meeting for a week and now it was half over before she even got there? She’d promised to make a big production out of Marcus’s sponsorship at the meeting, and she couldn’t very well do that if he wasn’t here.

  “What about the Christmas Festival, dear?” Alberta blinked at her behind her round glasses.

  Ivy took a deep breath and sat down. “We need to set the budget.” She opened her folio and glanced over her shoulder. “Preston? Join us, please.”

  He threw a spoon into his soup bowl and stood up, disdainfully throwing a dollar on the table before walking over. “I’m here.”

  “Sit down.” Ivy turned back around and surveyed the table. “Okay, look. My dad didn’t tell me the tradition about meeting here, and I’ll be honest, I was expecting more formality.” She glanced at Herman. “One of the reasons you got that ten-page proposal. I won’t apologize for being thorough—it’s just the way I do things.”

  “Good for you. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Alberta bobbed her head.

  Ivy smiled a little. “How do you all take notes at these meetings, anyway? All of them are supposed to be public record, and Sherry’s not here.”

  Alberta pointed to the table, where a small voice recorder sat next to a salt shaker. “We just hand this over, she types it up, e-mails it to the Celebration Crier, and voilà! It will be in tomorrow’s paper.”

  Ivy shook her head. Her dad may have allowed this type of meeting, but he hadn’t been dealing with massive change in town. “This is the last diner meeting, folks. We have confidential business to discuss in the coming months.”

  Ronald groaned. Ivy stared him down and spoke at the recorder. “Let the record show that all members of the town council are present. The first order of business is the Christmas Festival.” She glanced at her carefully typed notes. “So last year’s budget was a thousand dollars.”

  “Too high,” Herman grunted.

  “Not high enough. But we can’t spare more, so my suggestion is that we keep it the same,” Ivy went on. “All in favor?”

  “Aye,” chorused Alberta, Ronald, and Preston.

  Herman bit into a piece of bacon. “Nay.”

  Ivy glanced at the table and grabbed the pepper shaker, banging it on the table. “And I vote aye. Budget passed.”

  Alberta giggled. “You dad used to use the napkin holder.”

  Ivy grinned, and the tension in her back dissipated slightly. “Next is the downtown renewal. Are there any questions about my plan before we vote?”

  Ronald flicked a french fry from his copy of the proposal and lifted it up. “Yep. What’s this ‘Challenge for Change’ thing?”

  “Good Lord! How could you read the proposal and not understand that? It’s the whole crux of Ivy’s idea,” Alberta burst out.

  “Quit flapping your trap, woman,” Ronald shot back.

  Ivy paused for a second. “It’s an incentive. Any of the merchants who rent property can participate. Their challenge e
ach month is to turn a profit above their operating expenses, and if they do, their rent is paid. If they don’t, it’s not.” She looked at Ronald. “So for instance, you own four buildings on Main Street. Right now, you’re collecting zero dollars, but still paying property tax and insurance. With the challenge in place, and with Preston recruiting participants, chances are you’d end up with at least one of them occupied by a tenant. Maybe more.”

  Ronald picked at a tooth. “Sign me up. Herman, what do you think?”

  Herman grunted. “As long as I get paid, I don’t care. So how are you gonna get people to open stores, anyway?”

  Had neither of them bothered to look past page one? Or were they just testing her? She turned to Preston. “Do you have the ad?”

  He nodded and pulled a piece of paper out of a folder, passing it to Herman.

  Herman squinted at it and read aloud. “Sponsored by Marcus Weaver of Weaver Investments.” He let out a thick cough. “Oh, gimme a break.”

  Ivy ignored him.

  “Assuming we pass the proposal, this ad will be in the paper both here and in Syracuse. And online.” She smiled. “Plus as the mayor, I’m offering to be the first customer for the first new business to open its doors.” She picked up the ad and tapped on it. “It’s right there at the bottom. We’ll make a thing of it, have a ribbon cutting, take a few pictures.”

  “Good enough for me,” Ronald said. “Let’s vote.”

  Ivy raised the pepper. “All in favor?”

  There were five “ayes” and a round of applause from the surrounding tables.

  Ivy wanted to laugh. This whole meeting was so…anticlimactic. There had been no way of predicting anything in this town, and all the worry she’d had about it was for nothing. She banged the pepper on the table. “Proposal passed.”

  “Are we done?” Ronald heaved himself out of his chair.

  “Don’t you mean finished?” Alberta looked up at him with her lips pursed.

  “No, I damn well don’t.” He grabbed his check and started to walk to the counter.

  “Hang on a second,” Ivy called, waiting for him to turn around. “I meant to introduce Marcus Weaver at the meeting so we could thank him for his sponsorship, but since he thinks we’re meeting at city hall in”—she glanced at her watch—“fifteen minutes, then we won’t be able to do that. I hope that you’ll each thank him personally.”

  And she did hope they would. Because if the bakery wasn’t sold, making him out to be saint would make breaking the Megamart news next week that much easier. She forced a smile.

  “I don’t need to thank him for nothing,” Herman muttered. “Just cause the boy’s got money is no reason to kiss his ass.” He pushed his chair back.

  Next to her, Preston snickered. It was the first sound to come out of his mouth since he’d sat down. She kicked him under the table. “Preston is particularly grateful because Marcus has offered to help him plan the Christmas Festival.”

  “Oh, how nice!” Alberta exclaimed. “I’ll bake Marcus some cookies.” She sighed. “Too bad I can’t invite him to dinner. He’s terribly allergic to the smell of cat food. A strange allergy, but what a pity.”

  Ivy hid a smile. “All right. On that note, I call for adjournment. Any objections?”

  “Nay,” they answered.

  She tapped the pepper on the table. “Meeting adjourned.” With a silent sigh, she looked toward the counter and caught Crystal’s eye. “Sherry wanted me to pick up a piece of pie. Coconut cream?”

  Crystal nodded and two minutes later, she was at Ivy’s elbow with a to-go bag. “Your sandwich and pie, your mayorship.” She plunked it down on the table. “It’s on the house.”

  Ivy grinned up at her and grabbed the bag. “You’re awesome. Thanks. I’m freakin’ starving.”

  Crystal laughed and bent down. “That’s what Marcus said a half an hour ago when he stopped in for lunch. You two think alike.” She winked and strolled back to the counter.

  Sliding a glance around the table, she waited to see if anyone had heard Crystal’s comment, but her motley town council was already halfway to the counter. Good. She wanted to get the hell out here, too. Her stomach was grumbling, and she just needed more alone time. Time to collect herself and think about her next hurdle—the possibility of revealing the Megamart news at next week’s meeting. Which really would be public.

  She stood and shook a few hands before gathering her things. She put on her coat, grabbed her folio and sandwich and walked out into the biting wind. With her head down, she scurried across Main Street and down a diagonal sidewalk on the commons. A familiar deep voice made her stop. She glanced around and spotted Marcus sitting on a park bench, his back to her.

  She pulled her coat against her and began to walk slowly toward him. She couldn’t ignore him; it wasn’t as if she was crossing through a park in New York City with tons of people all around. As she got closer, she realized that he was on the phone. And she realized, too, that she was going to listen in. She needed every scrap of information she could get, and he wasn’t exactly the forthcoming type. She slowed down and crept as close as she dared.

  Marcus ran a hand through his hair. “No, I’m in Celebration. I just need a contact number for a company that’s listed at that address in Syracuse. Yes, I’ve tried calling information. And no, they don’t have a website. That’s why I’m calling the Chamber of Commerce.” He paused. “Because I need to speak with them about a business deal.” He sighed. “Yes, I’d appreciate it if you’d do some checking. And this is going to sound unusual, but it’s urgent. If you track them down, could you give them a message?” He paused again. “Great. Tell them that I’m interested in some land that they recently purchased in Celebration. I’ll pay twenty percent above their purchase price, but they need to call me within a week.”

  Ivy’s jaw dropped open. He didn’t have the land to build his store? No wonder he hadn’t wanted to present the Megamart today. Not that it would have gone well, considering the meeting place. But still. Holy shit.

  “You’ve got my number?” he said into the receiver. “Thanks. And please, it’s very important they get the message.” Marcus stood up suddenly, and Ivy almost gasped aloud. She stumbled backward and ran smack into Preston, who grabbed her arms and snorted.

  “Well, that was shocking,” he whispered near her ear. He smelled like chicken soup and expensive, but overpowering, cologne.

  She jerked away and turned to face him. “Don’t you say a fucking word.”

  He stared at her, that supercilious smile making her want to slap his face. “Why would I? I don’t even know what the hell he’s talking about.”

  Ivy’s eyes went wide. Of course Preston didn’t know about the Megamart. God, she was losing it. “Never mind. Just forget you heard anything.”

  He shrugged and stepped around her. “Bye, Ivy,” he called too loudly and turned to jog down the sidewalk. It was weird that he had decided not to stick to her like glue today, especially after the prospectus came in, but she was too distracted to think about why.

  Marcus turned around slowly and barely glanced at Preston’s retreating figure before meeting her eyes. She stared right back, pausing for a second before forcing her feet to move forward. Did he know that she knew?

  He grinned at her. “Hey, sweetheart.”

  Obviously not.

  “Hey Mega-Marcus.” She gripped the to-go bag. “Hate to tell you this, but the town council meeting already happened.” She offered a tight-lipped smile. “You’d think somebody would have told the mayor about pertinent information like that, but no.”

  “It couldn’t be helped, I guess?” He continued to grin at her.

  “Something like that. The downtown renewal passed, and there will be ads in Saturday’s paper. I’m sure you’ll be the focus of a lot of positive attention.”

  He took a step closer. “I hope so.”

  “Yeah.” She met his eyes. They looked tired, but that glint in them told her that he wasn’t
so tired that he wouldn’t seduce her right here on the sidewalk.

  “So I assume you’ve got free time right now?” He leaned even closer.

  Yes. But I’m totally pissed at you. And she needed time to digest what she’d just discovered. It could mean that the Megamart would be dead in the water and her worries about it would be over. She just needed some time to do a little snooping down in the records office.

  “Sorry. I have a million things to do.” She glanced up at him. “But there are things we need to discuss. How about tomorrow morning?”

  “I agree. We do need to talk, but there are eavesdroppers all over city hall. I have to be out of town tomorrow, but I’ll bring dinner over to your house Friday night and we can talk privately.”

  Eavesdroppers? Then he did know that she’d listened. Did he? Wait. Friday night? “I—”

  His phone rang. “Excuse me.” He looked at the screen and began to walk away. “See you Friday, Ivy,” he tossed over his shoulder.

  She stood there for a minute and watched his tall form as he strode down the sidewalk. The best thing to do would be to go back to her office, eat her sandwich, and then call and tell him not to come over. At night. When she would be tempted to shut the blinds, grab the front of his shirt, and pull him toward her dark bedroom.

  A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold ran down her back. Fine. She’d let him into her house, but not into her pants.

  Chapter Ten

  On Friday night, Ivy ran cold water over her throbbing finger and glared at the hammer lying on the kitchen counter. “You suck,” she scolded it. “You bent the nail and broke my nail. So much for a manicure.”

  She ripped a paper towel from the plastic holder above the sink and wrenched open the old-fashioned, heavy freezer door for a hunk of ice. The door ricocheted off the windowsill and banged squarely into her forehead.

  “Fuck!”

  She grabbed at her head and sat down on the cracked linoleum floor next to the refrigerator. “Oh shit, that really hurt,” she muttered, kicking at an already dented metal table leg in front of her. The table jerked a couple of feet and the grinder full of pulverized coffee beans tipped over the edge and exploded. Freshly ground French Roast sprayed over her legs and scattered across the floor. So much for premaking the after-dinner coffee for her so not a date with Marcus. She sneezed.