“I know.”
The bell over the diner door jangled and Jack glanced in that direction, frowning when he recognized the two figures walking through the door. “Uh-oh.”
Ivy instinctively shifted so she could look in that direction. “What?” When she caught sight of the couple in question, she almost growled. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“Well, let’s wait and see what they say,” Jack prodded. “It might be an innocent thing.”
“Or I might have to kill my brother,” Ivy muttered.
Max forced a sheepish smile when he realized Ivy and Jack were staring at him. He reluctantly touched Simone’s elbow to direct her toward the booth, although his expression said that was the last thing he wanted. He would’ve avoided his sister and her fiancé at all costs if the diner had open seats. They had no choice but to join Ivy and Jack if they wanted to get lunch.
“Hey, guys.” Max’s voice sounded unnaturally bright as he approached the table. “It’s busy today.”
“It certainly is,” Jack agreed.
“Can we join you?”
“Sure.” Jack wrapped his hand around Ivy’s wrist, forcing her to look at him before she said something snide. “Honey, why don’t you come over here and sit next to me, huh?”
Ivy opened her mouth to argue, but the look on Jack’s face told her that was a bad idea. “Fine,” she gritted out, sliding out of her seat and brushing against Simone as she crossed over to Jack. “We’ll all have lunch together and pretend this isn’t weird. That sounds like a great idea.”
“It definitely does,” Jack agreed. He grabbed Ivy’s tea mug and slid it in front of her as she settled in the spot next to him. Max looked decidedly uncomfortable as he took the spot across from Jack. Simone, on the other hand, looked almost triumphant as she stared across the table at Ivy. “Isn’t this cozy?”
Ivy scalded Jack with a dark look. “I can think of a few other words to use.”
“Don’t,” Jack warned, rolling his neck. “We’ve already ordered, but I’m sure you guys can add what you want to our bill. Lunch is on me.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet of you,” Simone gushed, grinning. “You’re far too sweet for the likes of Ivy.”
“Hey!” Ivy’s eyes flashed. “You don’t have to sit with us.”
“She’s with me,” Max said. “We’re having lunch together.”
“You don’t have to sit with us either,” Ivy snapped, her temper clearly on display.
“You don’t mean that,” Jack chided. “Now … chill.” He leaned closer and whispered so only Ivy could hear. “He’s your brother and you love him. Don’t make things more difficult. Besides, now we can question Simone about her new pageant protocol.”
Ivy brightened considerably. “Good idea.”
Jack squeezed her knee under the table before she could open her mouth. “I’ll be the one doing it.”
“Whatever.”
Max was understandably suspicious about the shift in Ivy’s mood. “What were you two whispering about?”
“Your sister made some fresh massage oil this morning and we have big plans for tonight,” Jack lied. He knew the pointed sexual innuendo would be enough to discourage Max from probing further.
“You’re so disgusting,” Max groused.
“I think he’s delightful,” Simone argued. “So, tell me, how did you find yourself hitched to Ivy’s wagon? Are you regretting it yet?”
Ivy ran her tongue over her teeth to calm herself, but Max was the one who surprisingly stepped in to admonish Simone for her attitude.
“If you’re going to insult my sister the entire meal, you can just go,” Max said. “We already talked about this and you said that you had nothing against Ivy. That’s not how it sounds to me.”
Simone immediately adjusted her tone. “I was just messing around. That’s how Ivy and I communicate.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think that’s how she wants to communicate,” Max said.
“I don’t want to communicate at all,” Ivy muttered under her breath.
“Let’s put it behind us,” Jack suggested. “As for Ivy and I getting married, I will never regret that. I feel as if I’ve won the lottery.”
Ivy arched an eyebrow. “That was laying it on a bit thick.”
Jack was firm. “That’s how I feel.”
“Yes, well … .” Ivy pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. She didn’t want to encourage Jack, especially in front of Simone. “So, Simone, what’s up with you kicking half the girls out of the pageant before it even starts?”
Jack groaned as he slapped a hand to his forehead and Max widened his eyes.
“Honey, I thought we agreed that you were going to let me ask the questions?” Jack probed.
“I changed my mind.” Ivy rested her hands on the table top and stared at Simone. “You’re not supposed to be able to cut girls out of the pageant before it even starts. That’s one of the pageant rules. Everyone who wants to compete can compete.”
Simone was uncomfortable with the question. “Who told you that?”
“Peyton Miller,” Jack replied. “I would think – especially since she was the runner-up last year – that she would be a frontrunner this year. Since she’s not even being allowed to compete, that seems … suspicious.”
“We had too many girls sign up,” Simone argued. “The pageant would’ve gone on for five hours if I didn’t cut people.”
“And how did you decide who was cut?” Max was interested in the conversation despite himself. “I mean … Peyton did really well last year. How come she was cut?”
“Because her talent routine wasn’t up to snuff.”
“Yeah, I just saw a girl swinging around a stick with a ribbon attached to it while she mimed a routine from a Triple-X show in Las Vegas,” Jack said. “That doesn’t seem to make a lot of sense to me.”
Simone’s frustration was evident. “I’m not sure what you want me to say.”
“I want to know why Peyton was cut out of the show,” Jack pressed.
“I … she just was.”
“I notice your daughter is still in the show,” Ivy interjected. “I think it’s a bit odd that you’re allowed to unilaterally keep and cut people when your daughter is a contestant.”
“What exactly are you insinuating?” Simone hissed, making a face. “Are you saying that you believe I’m trying to rig the system for my daughter?”
“I’m saying that you’re clearly playing fast and loose with the rules,” Ivy replied. “Do the festival organizers know about this?”
Simone balked. “Why would you possibly tell them?”
“I guess that’s a no.” Ivy switched her attention to Jack. “This changes things a bit.”
Jack nodded. “It certainly does.” He absently ran his hand up and down Ivy’s back as he considered the turn of events, eventually focusing on Max. “Aren’t you glad you chose the diner for lunch?”
Max shook his head. “It’s one of the worst ideas I’ve ever had … and that’s saying something.”
“It definitely is,” Ivy agreed.
“I still think it’s delightful,” Simone argued. “Now, let’s talk about why you shouldn’t tell the festival organizers what you know.”
“Oh, I wish they served liquor here,” Ivy lamented, rubbing her forehead.
Jack offered up a legitimate grin. “You and me both, honey.”
“I wish they served entire fifths of Jack Daniels,” Max said, rolling his neck until it cracked. “This is going to be a long day.”
Ivy’s eyes gleamed as they locked with his. “You have no idea.”
Eight
Jack dropped Ivy back at the barn after lunch, taking extra time to walk her through the festival area so she could cool down. He then left her at the door with an admonishment not to get into a fight because he refused to bail her out if she was arrested.
Ivy watched him go, a mixture of frustration and guilt warring for supremacy in her busy br
ain, and then she strode into the barn and pinned Simone with a challenging look. She was practically daring the pageant coordinator to defend what she’d done.
Instead, Simone made a big show of fixating on a set of costumes and proceeded to pretend Ivy wasn’t in the room. That was fine with Ivy, it gave her more time to glare holes into the back of Max’s head. He wisely focused on painting sets rather than his sister, allowing a pall to fall over the barn. Apparently it was a pall that the teenagers didn’t notice, though.
“Can you help me with these stupid shoes?”
Ivy tore her gaze from Max and smiled as Mackenzie Sutton sank to the ground and frowned at the ugly black leather Mary Jane shoes in her hand. Mackenzie was one of the few girls participating in the pageant who didn’t drive Ivy absolutely batty.
“Sure. What do we need to do with them?”
“I was hoping you could wave a magic wand and turn them into Converse,” Mackenzie replied. “People say you’re a witch so I figured you were my best shot.”
“They say I’m a witch, huh?” Ivy was instantly alert. She wasn’t a fan of the distinction, although given the things that kept happening, she wasn’t sure she could argue with it. “Well, whatever they say, I don’t think I can fix these shoes.”
“I know.” Mackenzie looked miserable. “It was a shot in the dark.”
Ivy smirked. “I know why I don’t like the look of these shoes. If I had my druthers, I would walk around barefoot all the time. Since it’s Michigan, that’s not really an option for me. Why don’t you like the shoes?”
“Because they’re ugly and uncomfortable,” Mackenzie replied without hesitation. “I don’t want to wear them. I don’t want to wear the stupid dress my mother is making me wear to sing during the talent competition. I don’t want to be part of this.”
That sounded exactly like the refrain Ivy sang when Luna Morgan told her she was going to have to participate in the pageant all those years before. It still didn’t sit well. “You don’t want to be here?”
“No.”
“Me neither.”
“How come you are?” Mackenzie appeared legitimately curious. “You’re an adult. You don’t have to do what you don’t want to do. That’s the only reason I’m looking forward to becoming an adult.”
Ivy snickered. “You’ll find that adults have to do things they don’t want to do all the time. It’s not fun and games like you imagine.”
“Don’t ruin my dream.”
“I’m sorry.” Ivy held up her hands in mock surrender. “I am curious how you made it this far if you’re not interested in the process, though. I heard that Simone Graham cut out a bunch of girls before the pageant preparation even started.”
Ivy told herself she wasn’t digging just to annoy Simone. She was looking for information on girls who might have an honest gripe regarding the pageant. If she somehow got more information to needle Simone with, though, so much the better.
“Oh, Simone only cut people she thought would be a threat to her precious Sadie,” Mackenzie sneered. “I’m not an idiot. I know why she kept me. I’m not a threat.
“When I first heard about the cuts before the show, I was excited,” she continued. “I thought for sure I would be such a weak candidate that she would cut me and I would have an excuse my mother would accept and everything. Instead she kept me and cut out legitimate contenders like Peyton and Rosie. There’s no way this pageant is legit.”
Ivy suspected it already, but it made her sad all the same that Mackenzie had such a low opinion of herself. “You could win.”
“I don’t want to win.” Mackenzie made an exasperated face. “This isn’t the sort of thing I want. I mean … don’t get me wrong, I don’t care either way about people who want to be in pageants. It’s just not my thing. I would rather be curled up in my room with a book … or watching that new horror movie with the ghost that kills people if they dare step into the abandoned mansion on the corner. I don’t care about this. I don’t want this.”
Ivy’s heart went out to her. “I got forced to participate in the pageant back when I was your age, too.”
“You seem to have survived,” Mackenzie noted. “How did you manage that?”
Ivy held her hand palms out and shrugged. “I lost my mind for a little bit and then found it in the wreckage of the pageant. The thing is, you’re going to feel as if this is the most important thing in your life for exactly three hours. That’s how long the pageant lasts. Once it’s over, you’re going to forget.”
“Have you forgotten?”
“Mostly. I only remember whenever this stupid festival rolls around and reminds me.”
“I hope that’s true for me, too.” Mackenzie glared at the shoes. “I’m tone deaf and can’t sing. My mother is making me sing anyway.”
“That doesn’t seem fair,” Ivy hedged. “If you could pick any talent in the world, what would it be?”
“I don’t know.”
Something about the set of Mackenzie’s jaw caused Ivy to doubt the girl’s answer. “I think you do.”
“I write poems sometimes,” Mackenzie admitted, keeping her voice low. “I like to write.”
“I think that’s a fine talent.” Ivy beamed. “Why don’t you read one of your poems?”
“Because then my mother will be really unhappy.”
“Here’s a little tip.” Ivy glanced around to make sure no one was listening. “Your mother is going to love you no matter what. That’s what mothers do. Even if she’s angry or irritated for a bit, she’ll get over it. You have to do what’s right for you.”
Mackenzie brightened considerably. “Do you believe that?”
“I do.”
“Thanks.” Mackenzie tossed aside the shoes and hopped to her feet. “I think I’m going to pick a different outfit for my talent.”
“Try Converse shoes,” Ivy suggested. “Something tells me you’ll be more comfortable if you go that route.”
“I think you’re right.”
Ivy watched her skip away, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. Once Max stepped in her vision field, though, the smile slipped.
“I’m not in the mood to talk to you,” Ivy growled.
“Yeah, well we need to talk,” Max shot back. “I know you’re upset about lunch but … there’s really no reason to be.”
“You know I’m upset about lunch?” Ivy was beside herself. “Why would I possibly be upset about lunch? I mean … you only took the woman who has been torturing me my entire life on a date and then forced me to sit with her. Why wouldn’t I like that?”
“I think you’re being a little dramatic,” Max chided. “Simone is ten years older than you. You didn’t run in the same circles. She hardly tortured you.”
“You lived a different life than me,” Ivy pointed out. “You didn’t have to deal with the same things I did. Simone might’ve been older than us – and I think it’s creepy that she’s going all cougar where you’re concerned, by the way – but she made extra money babysitting when we were little. Heck, she made extra money babysitting us when we were little.
“Then, when I had to do that stupid pageant, she was the mentor that year,” Ivy continued. “She was … not nice … to me through the whole process.”
“And I think that’s terrible,” Max said, frustration bubbling up. “She’s not the same person she was then, though. She was younger then, too. She’s grown.”
“So … you’re going to date her?”
“I don’t know,” Max replied, uncertain. “I’ve considered it. When it’s just the two of us, she’s fun and gregarious and I like hanging out with her. She can take a joke – at least when it’s delivered privately – and she doesn’t give me a lot of grief about where I’m spending my time.”
“But … ?”
“But when she’s around you, she seems to be a different person,” Max conceded. “I don’t like that person.”
“Then you definitely shouldn’t date her.”
Max snorted. “I haven’t decided what I’m going to do. It’s obviously not serious. You shouldn’t concern yourself with it.”
“You’re my brother. I have to concern myself with it. That’s what brothers and sisters do.”
“Oh, really?” Max cocked a challenging eyebrow. “When Jack broke your heart and disappeared after you were shot, did you listen to me and cut him out of your life?”
Ivy was taken aback by the question. “No. He was going through something.”
“He was,” Max confirmed. “I didn’t quite understand what he was going through. You did. He still hurt you and I wanted to pound the crap out of him. You saw things differently and even though I loved and wanted to protect you, I let you make your own mistakes.”
“And that’s what you want me to do for you, huh?”
“It is.”
“No.” Ivy was on her feet in an instant, causing Max to shrink back when she stalked in his direction. “I’m not going to pretend I’m infallible when it comes to making decisions. I’m not going to pretend that I’m always in the right when it comes to Simone. I like messing with her because I still remember the way she made me feel during that stupid pageant. I’m sure you remember how that was for me.”
“I do.” Max’s voice was plaintive. “You cried every night.”
“And yet you still supported Ava and Maisie.”
“Because I was young and dumb and didn’t understand how things would work out for you,” Max argued. “I was wrong. That was ten years ago, though. I’ve more than made up for it. You can’t hold that against me.”
Ivy wasn’t so sure. “I can’t just sit back and watch you make a huge mistake with Simone. She’s divorced.”
“Lots of people are divorced,” Max argued. “I don’t see how you can be such a snob about that. She married Scott when she was young and didn’t know any better. You did the opposite, shunning men when you were younger and waiting for the perfect guy to come along.
“In case you’ve forgotten, though, the guy you dated way back when started a cult and went completely off the rails,” he continued. “You could’ve easily found yourself in Simone’s shoes if you didn’t wise up and cut him loose.”
Wicked Hearts (An Ivy Morgan Mystery Book 9) Page 7
