Ivy Entwined

by Laura Simcox

  Delia waved a hand in the air. “There’s no talking to you two. Go call your father. I want him to taste this for me.”

  Ivy exchanged a glance with her grandmother and then walked to the kitchen doorway. “Dad!”

  His answering yell came from the living room. “What?”

  “Taste test!” Ivy unbuttoned her suit jacket and draped it over the table.

  A few seconds later, Brian Callahan stood in the kitchen doorway in his socks. Two patches of cat fur adorned the knees of his corduroy trousers. His navy sweater had not escaped the cat treatment, either. “How was your first day, Ivy?”

  She nodded, her lips pressed together. “I think I aged about a year in the last six hours.”

  He laughed and scratched his head. “Being retired has its privileges, that’s for sure. I can just feel myself getting younger every day I’m not at the mayor’s office.” He folded his arms above his paunch.

  “Oh, so that means I’m going to be an old hag in a few years?” Ivy slid off the stool and hugged him. “Great.” She felt his lips brush her forehead.

  “Hey. Watch it with the ‘old hag’ business,” Colleen grumbled.

  “You’re not a hag, Gramma,” Ivy said into her dad’s sweater. “Ew.” Pulling away, she stuck out her tongue and removed a strand of cat fur. “Breezy sheds like a snake.”

  Brian raised a white eyebrow. “You could have taken your cat to Arizona with you, if you hadn’t run away so quickly. She’s mine now.”

  “I didn’t run away,” Ivy said quickly. Yes, I did. But it had been the right decision at the time. She’d been twenty-one and a lot more in love with the idea of getting married than actually marrying Preston. Her timing had just sucked when she’d faced facts and broken it off.

  “Oh give her a break, Brian,” Colleen scolded. “You would have run too, if the person you were getting ready to marry announced in front of everyone at the rehearsal dinner that you were destined to do nothing but keep a social calendar and visit salons.”

  “Can you imagine?” Delia muttered. “Our Ivy?” She started to chuckle. “The look you gave him was pure murder. I thought you just might dump that glass of champagne over his head when he toasted you.” She snorted. “What was it you said to him?”

  Ivy twisted her lips, trying not to laugh. “I told him to take his charity work and shove it up his NordicTrack ass.”

  Colleen howled. “And he said, ‘But Ivy! You’re so sweet.’”

  “I can be sweet,” Ivy said. “I was sweet to everyone at the retirement village, even that group of friends you had, Gramma. And those old ladies would scare the crap out of a street gang.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Colleen retorted. “But you ruled that place with an iron fist and you know it.”

  Brian sighed. “And you’ll do an amazing job as the mayor of Celebration.” He smiled and looked down at Ivy. “Preston was wrong, you know. You would have eaten him alive. Just try not to do it until he gets that bakery sold.”

  “Dad, I can handle him.”

  Brian pulled her into another hug. “I know.” He gave her a conspiratorial wink and whispered, “Hey, how about we sneak some pumpkin pie before dinner?”

  “I heard that,” Delia said, lifting a lid from a pot on the stove and stirring. “Speaking of Preston, he called about twenty minutes ago. You know what? I get the feeling that he wants to pick right up where you two left off, Ivy.”

  “Like that’s going to happen.” Colleen grinned, exposing bright white dentures. “He must be pretty stupid.”

  “He’s not stupid. He just…has this ridiculous sense of entitlement.”

  “Yeah, entitled to get his ass kicked,” Colleen commented. She patted her frosted hair and pursed her lips. “Bring him over here and see what happens. I’m bored.”

  Ivy shook her head. “I love you all, but I’m so not in the mood to discuss my ex-fiancé anymore. I think I’ll lie down for a bit before dinner.” She slipped past her grandmother, squeezing her hand as she left the kitchen.

  Brian wrapped an arm around Ivy’s shoulders and propelled her back into the room. “Come on, crabby. Pie first. It will make you feel better.”

  Ivy attempted a smile for her dad, who glanced sideways at her mom before he reached toward the counter and slid a foil-covered pie tin forward.

  Delia smacked his hand. “You want sour cream on your chili, Ivy?” she asked.

  Ivy grimaced. “No, thanks. Actually…I’m having dinner at the Lovin’ Cup tonight.”

  “Why?” Brian frowned.

  “Uh, I haven’t talked to Crystal in a while. I thought I’d catch up with her.” Ivy avoided her father’s eyes and squeezed around him to walk into the living room. He caught her arm and turned her around.

  “Crystal Waters? I didn’t realize you two were even friends.”

  “And chili is your favorite,” Delia added in a too-bright voice.

  Damn. Now that she was back, it was like pulling teeth to get out of the house without feeling like a total bitch for leaving. But she couldn’t stay tonight. Not with that Megamart deal rolling around in her head. And the more they pried about Marcus, the more in danger she was of letting the whole thing slip before she had a chance to figure out how to phrase it. That would not be good for anyone.

  She stood in the doorway. “I know, Mom, but I won’t be gone more than an hour. And I’ll have chili when I get back. I just want to see how Crystal’s doing. You know she’s trying to run that diner by herself now. So…” Ivy shrugged.

  Delia gasped. “Oh my God. You’re going to meet Marcus!” She tapped a wooden spoon on the countertop. “I knew it.”

  “Actually, no. I’m not.” I just need to go someplace where I can breathe. Ivy felt her cheeks grow hot. “Hey, Mom. Any luck with finding me a rental?”

  “Yes. You’re meeting Herman Weaver on Saturday morning to look at a cute little house.”

  “Herman?” Ivy groaned. “But he’s crazy as a bag of rabid raccoons.”

  “He needs the business. And he’s on the town council. So be nice, Ivy.” Delia narrowed her eyes. “I could always invite him here for Thanksgiving dinner. I doubt Herman has anywhere to go at all.”

  “Like hell you will,” Brian snapped out. “Mind your mother, Ivy.”

  Delia turned to him with a soothing voice. “Brian, dear, you’re supposed to stay calm. I won’t actually invite him. Don’t worry.”

  Brian shook his head. “I’m not made of glass, woman. It was just a heart attack, and I’m going to be fine.” He pointed at her. “But you’ve got to stop treating me like a child.”

  Ivy stepped around her dad again. “Nap time.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Go easy on her.” With a sigh, she walked through the living room to the staircase. Gripping the rail, she pulled herself up the steps and walked down the hall to her old bedroom. She pushed a shoulder against the door, and it swung open with a scrape and a creaking noise.

  “That’s on my to-do list!” Brian yelled from downstairs.

  “Thanks, Dad!”

  She closed the door, flopped face down on the bed, and closed her eyes. After a minute, she rolled onto her back and reached for the switch on the lamp on her nightstand. It didn’t illuminate much, kind of like her fuzzy thoughts at the moment, but it was enough. She grabbed for the quilt at the foot of the bed and settled her head back onto the pillows. She heard the TV turn on downstairs and her dad’s rumbling voice as he talked back to a politician on the screen. She heard the muffled beeping of the microwave and then the kitchen radio came to life again. More Christmas carols…at a ridiculous volume. Ivy let her eyes slide shut. Her parents and their routine hadn’t changed a bit, even if her dad’s career had changed dramatically.

  It was going to take a while for sting of failure to leave his eyes. Before he’d resigned the mayoral post, all he’d wanted was to find a buyer for the Parliament Bakery building. But he hadn’t, so it was up to her to make that happen for him, fast, be
fore the Megamart thing went too far. Because she had no intention of letting Marcus actually build that monstrosity. Sure, what she’d told him had been the truth. The town council probably would cave in on the Megamart after he funded the downtown renewal. She just had to make sure there was no need for them to even consider it. The key, as much as she hated to admit it, was Preston. He had to find a buyer for the bakery, and she had to light a fire under his ass.

  …

  “Where’s my bacon double and fries? I threw that ticket up fifteen minutes ago. What are you waiting for? A freakin’ mustard-and-ketchup-bottle parade?”

  From his booth, Marcus watched in amusement as Crystal Waters wiped her hands on a stained apron and yelled into the serving window. The Lovin’ Cup diner was just like he’d remembered. Quirky and perfectly comfortable. Sure, he’d gone to plenty of diners when he’d worked as a location scout for Megamart, but they weren’t the same. They had their own local traditions and regional foods, and he was never in town long enough to appreciate them. So he’d order what every place, everywhere, had—a burger and fries. And then he’d go back to his empty, sterile hotel room and pretend not to care.

  The door jingled, and Marcus glanced up. Oh, shit.

  He gripped the edge of the Formica table and he stared. Ivy. He watched her shrug off her coat and hang it on the rack by the door.

  “Here’s your food. Sorry about the wait,” said a breathless voice near his shoulder. Marcus smiled at Crystal. “Thanks.” He watched as she set a steaming plate of fried chicken and mac and cheese in front of him but was very aware of the fact that Ivy had just sat down at the counter. She wore a soft green sweater and jeans that hugged her hips. Her mayor suit was sexy, but like this? She was gorgeous. He glanced back down and fiddled with his mug.

  Crystal leaned against the side of the booth. “More coffee?”

  He nodded. “Sure, thanks, Crys.”

  “Damn, Marcus. If I didn’t have a boyfriend…” She shook her head and laughed, swishing away to grab an empty glass from a table. “Brandon! Get that bus cart out here. What are you doing back there? I know it’s not your homework.”

  A kid wearing a “Skate or Die” T-shirt popped his head out of the serving window. “Okay, sis. Okay. It’s all good.” He gave her a drowsy smile.

  Marcus chuckled and reached for the salt. He heard the door jingle again and looked up, only to catch his breath. Ivy was gone. What the hell?

  A minute later, she walked back in with a roll of masking tape and a poster in her hand. She turned to the large plate-glass window and began to tape a sign up near the door. His gaze flicked over the sweep of her hair and the curve of her waist, and then zeroed in on her butt. He knew he was staring, the old couples sitting at the booths around him probably even knew he was staring, but it was hard to tear his eyes away. She half turned as she secured the final piece of tape and looked straight at him. Busted.

  He began to raise his hand to signal her over, but stopped. Be cool. Time to be cool.

  She hesitated for a second and then nodded at him. He grinned, and she narrowed her eyes in his direction as she approached. He broke the eye contact, picked up a sugar packet, and dumped it in his coffee.

  “Hello,” she said, pausing a few feet away from his booth.

  He shifted on the seat and turned to her. “Hi. What’s with the poster?” He waved his hand toward the window.

  “Just a flyer for the Christmas festival. It’s a bit early, but when in Celebration…” She shrugged and glanced around his table as if looking for something.

  He smiled at her.

  “No suitcase tonight? Did you find someplace to stay in town?” She folded her arms, which pushed out her breasts, which were at eye level. He shifted again.

  “Uh, yeah. Alberta Fields offered me her sofa.” He grimaced. “Did you know that she has nine cats?”

  Ivy smirked. “Are you allergic?”

  “No. Just a bit creeped out.”

  She nodded and glanced over her shoulder. “Well…I should—”

  “Care to join me?”

  “Oh.” Her eyes darted around the diner. “Maybe for a minute,” she murmured as she swung into the bench seat opposite him.

  “Great.” He reached for a menu behind the salt-and-pepper holder and handed it to her.

  She put it back and laughed. “I memorized that thing a long time ago.” As if catching herself unintentionally relaxing, she folded her hands on the table and sat up straight. “So, Mr. Weaver. Let’s talk.”

  “About?”

  “The downtown renewal, what else?”

  Marcus poked at his mac and cheese. He’d been wound up tight about the Megamart all day long, and he didn’t feel like arguing. He just wanted to watch her smile. “I’d rather not.”

  “Why?” She turned and waved at Crystal, who wove her way through the tables and squeezed her tall frame in beside Ivy.

  “Phew. I need to hire a helper. You interested?” Crystal grinned, her dark eyes full of humor.

  “No offense, but hell no,” Ivy answered with a chuckle. “Don’t you remember the two days I worked her when we were in high school? I broke fourteen plates.”

  Crystal’s big eyes got bigger. “Oh yeah.” She turned to Marcus. “Ever waited tables before?”

  More times than I care to remember. He shook his head. “I echo the mayor’s sentiments. Sorry.”

  Crystal sighed. “I had to try. What can I get for you, Ivy?”

  “Just some iced tea and a small plate of fries. Mom made chili.”

  So this wasn’t going to turn into a dinner date. He shouldn’t have expected anything more, but a small part of him was disappointed. Come on, Marcus. A date? With the mayor?

  When Crystal bustled away, Ivy drummed her fingers on the tabletop. Her glance flicked across his face, coming to rest on his lips.

  He cocked his head to the side. “You were saying?”

  Ivy frowned. “What? I didn’t say anything.”

  He gave her a slow smile. “You were about to give me reasons why we shouldn’t get to know one another.”

  “I was? I don’t remember anything like that coming out of my mouth, but now that you mention it, I do have a question.”

  “What’s that?”

  She leaned forward. “Why aren’t you staying with your uncle?”

  Before he could stop himself, Marcus scanned the diner for the old fart. Not here. Not a shocker, since the chicken car was still broken down from earlier. “Why do you ask?”

  “It occurred to me that he must be part of the reason you’re back in town.” She examined her rounded fingernails. “He’s a realtor. You are looking to buy land. But there seems to be no love lost between the two of you.”

  Crystal arrived at the table with Ivy’s order, saving him from answering right away. He watched in silence as she unwrapped a straw and took a sip of her tea. He tried not to focus on her mouth, but it was soft and pink and deserved to be looked at. It deserved all kinds of attention… He took a huge bite of chicken and stared over her head, chewing.

  “Well?”

  Marcus washed down the bite with a swallow of coffee. “You’re trying to convince me to give up and leave town?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You’re funding the renewal project. Why would I do that?”

  He smiled. “You tell me.”

  She tilted her head and whispered. “I don’t want you to bail out on me if Herman does something to fuck you over. I mean, shouldn’t he have at least told you that there’s a new mayor in town?”

  He froze with a forkful of food halfway to his mouth. Damn. He made a mental note not to play chess with her. At least not anytime soon. He put down the fork. “There was an unfortunate communication malfunction. So yes, I was under the impression that your dad was still mayor.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “That ‘malfunction’ doesn’t bode well, though, does it?”

  He shrugged. “Shit happens. Herman’s an asshole, but he’l
l broker that land deal. He needs the money.” An alarm sounded in his head even as he said the words. She’d made a valid point, and now he really was nervous. Leaning back in his seat, he winked at her. “Anyway, this entire process will be a lot more pleasant if you were more enthusiastic.”

  “Why do you say that?” She popped a french fry in her mouth.

  “Oh, come on. You think Megamart is the devil.” He gave her a forced smile. “You think I’m the devil, too.”

  “Maybe. But mostly because you’re not sincere. Your heart isn’t in it.”

  Ouch. Marcus kept his face blank even as his control floundered. He did care about helping Celebration. When he was a kid, the town had helped him. He owed it some help.

  He pushed his plate away. “My heart and my wallet occupy the same space. You have nothing to worry about.”

  She stared at him for a moment, as if struggling with how to respond. He held her gaze, unblinking. In the short silence that followed, he watched in fascination as a glint of determination entered her eyes. Finally she smiled, grabbed the check for her food, and slid out of the booth.

  He didn’t want her to go, but there was no reason for her to stay.

  So he winked. And this time it worked.

  Her mouth parted slightly, and she took a short, quick breath. “You are the devil.”

  Marcus reached out and snatched the check away from her hand. “Yes. You’ve succeeded in making a deal with him, sweetheart. Happy?”

  Ivy plucked the check from his fingers before she took a step back. “I haven’t decided yet. But do me a favor, okay?”

  “I don’t usually do favors.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Another deal, then. Stop calling me sweetheart, and I’ll stop referring to you as the devil.”

  He grinned and picked up one of her now-cold French fries. “No, thanks. I kind of like things the way they are. For now.”

  She stood rooted next to the table and stared at him. “What’s your schedule like on Monday?”

  “Already asking me out?”

  Ivy frowned and folded her arms over her breasts. “Not a chance. We need to have a meeting before I present the downtown renewal to the town council. And that doesn’t qualify as a date.”