“Tonight?” Ivey squeaked out.
“Go find a hotel room somewhere. Maybe there’s someone you can stay with.”
“You might have noticed, it’s a small town and there are no hotels.” These guys were starting to piss Jeff off.
The agent shook his head like it wasn’t any of his problem. “Mr. Cartwright should have thought of that before he robbed his investors of their savings.”
Yeah, Jeff got it. He didn’t like Mr. Cartwright either.
“Those people need to get their money back, of course,” Ivey stammered out.
“Well, this will barely put a dent in it.” The man said abruptly and went to confer with the other agents.
Jeff pulled Ivey to the side. He hated to see her this way. Confused, hurt, frightened. Again, someone in Ivey’s life had hurt her. First her dad, who’d left Ivey and her mother when Ivey was ten. Her mother, dying in another small-town scandal when Ivey was eighteen. Even he’d let her down.
“Where am I supposed to go now?” The look on her face, like she’d been gutted, slayed him. Maybe because he deserved it, he punished himself with the thought she might have had the same look when he’d told her that he needed a break. A break from her. That’s how she would have heard it, when all he’d wanted was a tiny respite from the pressures of all the responsibilities.
“You can stay with me.”
After the words were out of his mouth, he couldn’t believe he’d said them out loud. But if nothing else, Ivey’s wide eyes clued him in that he actually had. Not the way he’d once pictured living with Ivey. It would have been better if she’d chosen to be with him instead of being rescued, yet he couldn’t see any other solution.
“With you?” Ivey asked, her right eyebrow twitching. She’d probably had one too many shocks tonight.
“I have an extra bedroom for a while.” It made perfect sense, as long as he didn’t think about it too much.
“I’m not going to be your roommate.”
“Great, because I don’t need one. Scott Turlock is my roommate, but he’s out of town for a few weeks. It’s temporary, until you get the job and find a place of your own.”
“I could stay with Brooke.” She worried a nail between her teeth and stared at the men in black.
“Seriously?”
“Don’t look at me that way. I know you two don’t like each other, but she’s still my best friend in the world.”
He liked Brooke fine, though he realized the feeling wasn’t mutual. Daredevils like her practically kept him in business, but he happened to know she lived in a complex of Victorian homes converted into studio apartments, and it gave new meaning to tiny. He’d looked at one of the apartments when he’d first come back. “That place is the size of a postage stamp. You’ll trip over each other in the hallway.”
“You’ve been there? To her place?” Ivey’s face reddened.
She couldn’t seriously think he and Brooke—was she jealous? “No, but I am an ER doctor and Brooke is—well, Brooke.”
“Stitches?”
Thank God, she believed him. “Stitches, x-rays.” He couldn’t, and shouldn’t, list all her injuries.
“She also has a boyfriend and I’d hate to be in their way. But wouldn’t I be cramping your style, or love life?”
What love life? If she meant his sex life, that was one thing, but he hadn’t had a love life for years. He was looking at the extent of his love life right now, and it was pitiful that he couldn’t convince her to let him help.
“No, you won’t be.”
“It’s not a good idea. I need wide open spaces when I’m around you,” she added.
“It’s not like you have a lot of choices.”
“Wow. I’ve waited all my life to hear a guy tell me that.”
“C’mon, Ivey. Let me help. Stay the night and we’ll figure things out in the morning. You don’t have much time to decide, because this offer is going to be rescinded in about ten seconds. And then what will you do?”
“I’ll figure something out!” But she took another pointed look in the direction of the FBI. One thing you could say about those men was that they didn’t look friendly.
“Yeah, and there is the park. Of course, the bench isn’t very comfortable, and Burt won’t let you sleep on it. I tried.”
“Look, I don’t want to be any trouble.”
“Ten, nine, eight, seven . . . ” He began the countdown.
“Would you stop counting?”
“Five, four, three . . . ”
“Fine! If it will get you to shut up, I’ll stay with you. Temporarily.”
*****
What would the good people of Starlight Hill think of her now? What would Jeff think?
By way of marriage, she’d been related to a Ponzi scheme investor, which was bad enough, but now she’d been kicked out of her home. Practically in the middle of the night. Fine, the place would be sold and some of the investors paid off. That was only right and expected.
But now a bright light pointed to Lucy’s ex-husband and the last thing Ivey needed was that kind of an association. She was still repairing her image as a love ’em and leave ’em witchy woman.
Ivey and Jeff packed up her bedroom, throwing clothes in plastic garbage bags.
One phone call to Aunt Lucy later, and Ivey had one more reason to be annoyed with her Aunt. She’d ignored all the legal notices forwarded to her because she had no interest in keeping the condo anyway. She ended the phone call by reminding Ivey that this was a chance to reconcile with Jeff, but if she insisted on being stubborn she’d send her more money. Ivey hung up on Lucy, and didn’t bother telling her she was on her way to living with Jeff, but not in any way either of them would have preferred. No, she’d be his roommate.
How could she live with this man and not be tempted every single day?
With enormous willpower, that’s how.
Jeff surveyed the bags they’d hauled out of the condo. “We might be able to do this in one load.”
She’d left everything behind in LA, and her roommate Sandy was only too happy to sell it off on eBay. She was still trying to raise money to get her teeth capped.
"All the furniture was my aunt’s.” She frowned in the direction of the men hauling out oil paintings, chairs, and a flat screen TV. “Except for this lamp.”
Ivey touched the lamp she’d won at a midwife convention, her very first one in Atlanta. The pink, headless, and armless body of an ample woman, large breasts, swelled wide and engorged in the middle with the light portion of the lamp shining in the place of the womb. Quite possibly the ugliest thing she’d ever seen, but it held memories of her first professional achievement, and she wanted to use it in her own office someday when she set up her private practice. After first proving to the medical establishment that she wasn’t a shaman.
“It’s uh—interesting.” The look on his face was a mixture of pure disgust and that ridiculously perfect grin of his.
“You don’t have to be nice. It’s hideous. But I won it, and it’s supposed to be good luck.”
“What is it, exactly?”
“A fertility lamp. And it should bring my future patients plenty of babies. Or at least a good laugh.”
Jeff picked up the lamp, holding it at a distance as though he feared it might actually work. “If you say so.”
“Don’t worry, it’s going in my temporary bedroom.” She took it from him, and placed it in the trunk of his car.
Ivey sunk further down on the passenger side as they passed the camera news crew on their way out. If she wasn’t careful, she’d wind up being the news story. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“It’s not your fault,” he said, pulling out of the gated community.
“But everyone will think it is.”
His only answer was an unintelligible mutter under his breath, and they rode in silence for the next few minutes. He probably wasn’t pleased.
Neither was she, since this hadn’t been the way
she’d pictured living with Jeff once before, when she’d casually asked him about married-student housing. He had made up some excuse about there being no room, and she got the message. Not yet.
She’d wondered if it would ever happen. In the end he hadn’t wanted to marry her, end of story. She’d been the high school sweetheart he couldn’t shake. And now he probably didn’t actually want her to stay in Scott’s empty room, but he felt too guilty to turn her away.
If you weren’t lucky or wealthy enough to own land in Starlight Hill, you were squeezed into one of about four small housing developments or one fancy gated community, built under protest according to Aunt Lucy. The city council kept a tight handle on progress, and not much had changed. As they drove, Ivey realized that she didn’t know where Jeff lived. His parents had once owned a house in one of the newer tract neighborhoods in town. But now he turned down El Toro Street, and into what she and Brooke used to call Sweet U Lane. A smattering of pre-WWII cottage-style homes that were mostly rented by university students. The cool kids.
And even now, as Jeff pulled into the carport, Ivey noticed a group of girls hanging on the porch of the house right next door. Young, nubile girls wearing Daisy Duke cut-offs and guzzling beer. Basically Ivey’s worst nightmare.
“Hey, Jeff,” one of the girls called out. “Wanna beer?”
“No thanks,” Jeff answered without a look in their direction when he unlocked the front door, carrying a bag of Ivey’s clothes.
Ivey heard girlish giggles that trilled through the cool summer night air and followed them inside. “You can go with them if you want. I’ll get settled.”
He met her eyes. “I don’t want to go with them.”
Why didn’t she believe him? Jeff was a single hot-looking guy and those girls were not shy about showing how available they were.
Together they carried in the rest of her boxes and bags, turning down help from the girls next door, who, to their credit, did offer. Probably so they could get a little closer to Jeff, and maybe sniff out what was going on.
Jeff set the lamp down outside one of two identical-looking bedroom doors. “This is Scott’s bedroom. I should probably go inside and make sure he didn’t leave anything embarrassing lying around.”
“Please do.” Ivey set down a bag of clothes outside the door.
After a few seconds, he came out. “This room is cleared.”
There was an uncomfortable moment of silence between them as they stared at each other, and then Jeff ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat. “You should get settled.”
Ivey carried her bag in the room and shut the door. The room screamed military, which made sense since Scott was in the Army. The small twin bed was neatly made, with all the flat corners one would expect. Setting a bag of clothes down on the floor, Ivey took a seat on the bed. How odd to be here in a place that reminded Ivey so much of the dorm rooms where Jeff had lived. Every room and door so similar they were almost indistinguishable from each other.
Back then, she’d also been a temporary visitor too. She’d acclimated to spending weekends in surroundings that screamed testosterone: girly posters, beer, stinky socks. But she hadn’t minded because it meant sharing a bed with Jeff, and getting all his attention for a while. He’d taught her how to please him, and she’d become well versed in the art of distracting him from anything else but her. It was that need for him that drove her life back then, but she was not the same dumb girl any more.
She had goals and a direction. Unfortunately life had taken a left turn again while she’d been ready to turn right. But she’d roll, as she had so many times in the past. On the other hand, Jeff had a penchant to schedule everything down to the last detail, and all this couldn’t be sitting well with him.
*****
This could get complicated. He wouldn’t mind complicated if it meant seeing Ivey naked, but that was a pipe dream. This wasn’t part of any plan he could have imagined at any time. Ivey living with him, her bedroom inches away from his.
A few minutes later, he’d changed and pulled a beer from the fridge when Ivey emerged from the bedroom wearing a tank top and sweatpants that read bootylicious. In case he’d forgotten, which he hadn’t.
They simply stared at each other for a minute, and then they both spoke at once.
“Are you going to bed?”
“I’m going to watch some TV.” Ivey headed towards the set and turned it on to the news.
Not a good idea. “Maybe not the news.”
“There’s nothing else on, and I might hear something about what happened tonight.”
“Do you really want to?”
“Of course. I want to make sure they got the story straight. My aunt had nothing to do with this.”
Curious, he waited to hear as well, and when they listened to a story about a boy who had figured out a way to recycle straws, Jeff had convinced himself that they’d skip the story altogether.
But no such luck.
“In other local news tonight, a Wall Street financial investor’s home has been seized in an FBI sting.”
“A sting?” Ivey cried out. “There was no sting.”
They showed film of the newscaster at the scene, reporting on the few known details. Nothing Jeff and Ivey didn’t already know. Then back to the talking heads, who seemed amused. Slow news day and all.
“I thought all they had in Starlight Hill were vineyards.” The male anchor preened.
“Sounds like they’ve got crooks too. But even those are high-class.” A light elbow to her co-anchor, a little chuckle.
Next, a large photo of Ben Cartwright and Lucy at their wedding. “Here’s a photo of the couple in happier days. You know, Lucy Cartwright is a local who won the California lotto several years ago. It goes to show you, it’s never enough.” The male anchor shook his head sadly. This, obviously, was the news commentary portion of the show.
“For some people, it never is. But justice prevails, and tonight maybe a few unlucky investors are a little closer to getting back their life savings. Well, good night and sleep tight, folks.” The female anchor winked.
Jeff turned toward Ivey, who hadn’t said a word. She stared at the screen, mouth hanging. “Did you hear that? They lumped them together, showed their wedding picture for crying out loud, and made it sound like my aunt was involved.”
He rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. “No they didn’t. And no one in town will believe it.”
“I’m going to call the station. This is irresponsible journalism. They might as well call it the evening rumors.”
“You might want to let it go. Let it die out. You’ll only call more attention to the situation.”
“I don’t want people to think badly of Aunt Lucy. I know she’s been married four times, and she probably has more fun than any fifty-eight year old woman should, but she’s been good to me. And she’s been good to the hospital too. That’s something nobody knows. She’s the women’s center’s main benefactor.”
That got his attention. When he’d pressed, he’d been told that it was one of the benefactors who wanted him on the subcommittee. No explanation. Could that have been Lucy? “No kidding.”
Ivey froze, then turned from him and snapped the TV off. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“She’s the one that wanted me on the subcommittee, isn’t she?” He would have a little fun with this tonight. And maybe someday personally thank Aunt Lucy, since he’d had more excitement lately than he’d had in the past year. “Maybe to get us back together.”
“Why would you say that? My God, the ego on you! Are all doctors like this? Don’t answer that. I happen to know they are.”
She tried to get by him, but he grabbed her wrist. “Tell the truth. It will only hurt a little. It’s like tearing off a band aid.”
“I’ve said enough.”
And maybe she had, because he had his answer. Aunt Lucy had played matchmaker, because somehow even she knew that they weren’t done with
each other. “Thank her for me.”
“I will not.”
“Then I’ll thank her.” He let his fingers trail up her arm and then back down again.
“I can’t stop you.” Her eyes didn’t betray a single emotion, but he did feel her arm shiver.
Then his pager went off, because that thing had the timing of a metronome on crack. Reluctantly, he ended the standoff and went to find his pager on the counter where he’d unloaded it.
He recognized the ER’s number, and called them back on his cell phone. “Dr. Garner. You paged?”
“It’s Nancy. I thought I’d let you know that Frank Sullivan came in and he was taken up to cardiology. Apparently there’s something abnormal on the EKG. I know how fond you are of him, so I wanted to let you know.”
“Thanks. I’ll be right over.” He gathered his wallet, his keys.
“Don’t you dare. You’ve already logged too many hours, and the board will have our hide if they hear about it. I shouldn’t have called you—Donna was right. And you know how I hate it when she’s right. Stay where you are, Doctor, or I’ll be force to take drastic measures.”
He let out a breath. With all the extra shifts he’d pulled, he needed the break. But this was Frank. How many EKGs had he ordered, all perfectly normal? What had he missed, dammit?
“Fine. I’ll drop by to see him tomorrow.” He hung up the phone.
“Is anything wrong?” Ivey asked from the couch. She had a book in her hands now, something that looked like a romance novel.
“Nothing,” he lied. Something was wrong with Frank, and he’d missed it. Maybe because he’d been too tired, working too hard. Thinking too much about his own needs and whether the ER was where he wanted to land.
“You care about your patients, don’t you?” This was said kindly, and took him by surprise.
“Does that surprise you?”
She smiled a little. “I wasn’t sure how you’d do with patients. I’ve always known how smart you were, but not every doctor has the compassionate side of them fully engaged.”
“I think they wind up being radiologists.”
Ivey laughed. “We’re not so different, you and me.”
All of Me Page 8
