“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.”
“See 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 brow 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 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 again.
Some grumbling ensued, and within a few minutes the chamber members fi
led 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 even 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 raised 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.
Like what a great kisser he was, taking his time and savoring every second. Taking his time with—everything.
“So did any of these guys get work?”
Ivey cleared her throat. That’s right, they’d been talking about her dates. What kind of a woman babbled on incessantly about who she’d dated in the past? A woman who didn’t know how to behave on a date any more, that’s who.
“I think so.” Subject change, quick. No more talking about failed serial dating and men who were more fascinated with themselves than they were with her. What a fine way to advertise. Not that she was here on a date.
Friends, Ivey. Friends.
*****
Jeff kept the smile in place, even if he didn’t want to hear about the idiots Ivey had dated in LA. Not exactly the best conversation if they were on an official date, which they weren’t. All the wishing in the world wouldn’t make it true.
Even if he couldn’t keep his eyes off Ivey, who was far more delicious than anything on his plate tonight. That said something, since Giancarlo cooked the best pasta carbonara in the valley, hands down.
But Ivey. He had a distinct memory of what she felt like in his arms—soft, but pliable with heat. Not shy and retiring like she looked by her outward appearance, always dressed in sundresses and jeans like the girl next door. No, with him she’d been bold and self-assured. Wild and uncensored. Angel and Vixen.
They were good together, and if she hadn’t left town the way she had, today everything in his life would be different. But by now he understood that he couldn’t control all outcomes. Not in the hospital, and not in his personal life. Some things were left to chance.
“Ready?” He pulled out his wallet.
“We’ll split it,” Ivey said, obviously wanting to make it clear this was no date. Just two friends going Dutch.
“No. This was my idea. Remember?” He stayed her hand, so soft and small under his, and man, it felt so good. The first time he’d touched her since she’d come home, and it only reminded him that he wanted more. Much more.
Bad idea, because she was looking at his hand over hers like she’d come upon a bear in the woods. Alone and helpless, like freaking Bambi.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “You win.”
If only that were true, but they were talking about the check.
In a few minutes he’d be dropping Ivey back off at the place where Ron the security guard couldn’t remember her name. Then he’d go home alone to his lonely bachelor pad. Now that Scott was off touring a baseball series with his brother Billy, he had a lot of quiet nights ahead of him.
It seemed a little odd to see the Channel 7 television van pulled up outside of the gated entrance, a newscaster speaking into a microphone.
“That’s strange,” Jeff said as he punched in the code he’d memorized.
Ivey held a hand to her mouth. “Oh no. I hope he hasn’t finally killed her.”
“Killed who?”
“Mr. Alfonso. They’re our neighbors, and I’ve heard him yell once or twice that he’s going to kill Mrs. Alfonso. Am I going to be called to the trial? I’m probably going to be the witness that says ‘yes, Your Honor, I heard him say he would kill her.’”
Apparently Ivey’s dates were not the only ones with a flair for drama. Maybe it had rubbed off on her with all those actors and lines. Mr. Alfonso was an over-excitable Italian who wouldn’t hurt a fly, and Jeff would bet those threats were Mr. Alfonso’s misguided idea of foreplay.
“Ivey, he’s an usher at St. Catherine’s. And this is Starlight Hill.”
She turned to him. “But murders happen everywhere. I see it on TV every Friday night.”
Jeff slowed down at the gate, where the guard wasn’t his usual stoic self. “Miss Iris—”
“It’s Ivey!” she shouted back to him. “What’s going on? Why are all those reporters in the front? Who got hacked up or shot?”
That’s it. Definitely too many crime shows. She ought to go to the nearest drug store and pick up a pack of cigarettes because they were the only killers he ever saw around Starlight Hill.
“No one got killed, Miss,” the security guard sai
d, maybe finding it safe to not even attempt the name this time. “I’m sure it’s all a big mistake. But they’re waiting for you upstairs.”
“For me?” Ivey drew a shaky hand to her throat, and for the first time since she’d been back, every protective cell in his body resurrected itself. This was Ivey. Ivey, who regardless of the way she behaved in the bedroom with him, was a freaking Girl Scout.
“Who’s waiting for her?” he asked.
“The men from the FBI.”
Chapter 8
Jeff still didn’t think Ivey had calmed down enough when they were inside the condominium, waiting for the elevator.
“Did you hear that? The FBI!” Maybe out of old habit, she leaned into him.
He snaked a supportive arm around her waist. “Calm down. It’s a mistake. That’s all it is.”
“A mistake.” She repeated, her eyes glazed over.
“Let’s go up.” Jeff more or less led Ivey into the elevator and up to the second floor.
There were indeed men in distinctive black suits with badges. No yellow caution tape. But a sign on the front door read: Seized by Order of the United States Government.
The audible gasp from Ivey meant she’d read the sign as well.
A gray-haired agent stepped up to them, showing his badge. “Are you Lucy Cartwright?”
“No, that’s my Aunt. Is she okay? What’s happened to her?” Ivey clutched Jeff’s hand.
“Nothing, ma’am. As far as we know she’s fine. This property has been seized for payment of debts owed to investors by a Ben Cartwright.”
Jeff squeezed Ivey’s hand. Everyone in town realized Lucy’s last husband was under house arrest in New York City. The story Jeff had heard was that he’d been indicted in a Ponzi investment scheme. But if Lucy thought she’d walked away with this asset in their divorce, she’d obviously been mistaken.
“Didn’t Lucy Cartwright obtain this property in the divorce?” Jeff asked the man.
“It’s a common trick to pass over assets that way, but Cartwright’s not getting away with it.” The agent handed over paperwork to Jeff.
“If you’ve been staying here, we’ll give you time to get a few essentials. But you need to be out of here tonight.”
All of Me Page 7
