Page 10 of Fire

Nathan sighs. “Because another way to sum up your suggestion is that you want me to use my job at the foundation—which I love—to trick your ex-girlfriend into moving in with you. Which would put my job—again, which I love—in jeopardy.”

“That’s not what’s happening here.” I pull out my chair and sit, leaning forward to meet his eyes because he has to see what a good idea this is. He has to. “You’re getting an anonymous donation of space for someone in need. No tricks. Nothing in jeopardy. Just…someone being nice.”

“There’s no talking him out of it now,” Angela says with a laugh. “I know that look.”

“Good. Then it’s settled.” I lace my fingers behind my head before Nathan can object. “I just have one stipulation. I want to be the one to tell her.”

Because maybe, then, Ivy and I will have a chance to talk. We can clear the air because whatever’s gone wrong? It can’t be big enough to ruin what we had. Nothing’s that big. Ivy and me? We were the real deal.

“Nope.” Nathan looks to Garrett for support. “No fucking way is that happening. You’re not coming anywhere near that meeting. The little girl will have to be there, it’s one of the tenets the foundation’s built on. The kids are the ones receiving the support, so they’re part of everything from the beginning.”

“Come on. Think of the drama of the moment. Ivy’s sitting there, finding out she’s getting everything she needs and then boom. I walk in.” I’m not sure how her kid plays into that moment, but I don’t have time to think of that right now. Not when I’m so close to getting what I want.

“I don’t think that’ll work in your favor, Mi.”

I point an enthusiastic finger Nathan’s way. “That’s not a no.”

“It’s not a yes, either.”

But I can see it on his face. I’m halfway to wearing him down. Which means I’m halfway to seeing Ivy again. And that’s all I need. One more chance to make everything right.

CHAPTER FOUR

Ivy

I pull into a parking spot at the grocery store, the black clouds boiling in the distance setting off alarm bells in my belly. I hate storms, and I hate myself for having such a childish fear. I’ve done everything I can to get over it, and work hard to keep Nell from finding out I fall to pieces at the first sign of thunder, but…here I am…staring at black clouds and biting my nails.

My phone buzzes as I kill the ignition and I pluck the device from the cup holder, expecting to see Nell’s school on the caller ID. She hasn’t slept well since the fire, which means her behavior’s likely to slip. Adrenaline jolts through my system when I see who’s calling.

Julian. My fiancé. And the reason I’m living with my grandma in the Keys instead of planning a wedding in Seattle.

I contemplate sending him to voicemail, then huff a laugh. Not wanting to speak to the man I agreed to marry says something. Something Grandma would say I should listen to.

I’m listening, Grandma. I swear.

It’s time to make this break permanent. It’s time to tell Julian Hawthorne I don’t want to marry him. Closing my eyes and swallowing hard, I hit accept and put the phone to my ear as a roll of thunder sends my nervous system into overdrive. Of course he calls when there’s a storm coming…

“Hey.” I force a smile. Julian’s always nicer when I smile.

“Ivy.” There’s no warmth to his voice. No softness. Just the harsh barking of my name that sets my heart pounding.

“I’m sorry I haven’t called,” I say, anticipating his frustration. “There was a fire at Grandma’s and—”

“A fire? When? Are you okay? How’s Nell?”

“We’re fine. It was a while ago and—”

“It was a while ago? Jesus, Ivy! Why didn’t you call me?”

Because Julian would twist things and make this my fault and I wasn’t exactly eager for that discussion.

“We’re okay. Nell’s room is…well it’s uninhabitable, but we’re okay.” I place a hand over my chest and inhale deeply. Calm down, Ives. All is well.

“I knew something like this would happen.” A flash of lightning punctuates the end of Julian’s sentence. “Bad luck follows you and I can’t protect you from your chaotic decisions when we’re on opposite ends of the country.”

“It was an electrical fire. It started in the wall and the fire inspector said no one’s at fault.” Should I really feel the need to defend myself? To point out that faulty wiring has nothing to do with my decisions, chaotic or otherwise?

“When are you coming home?”

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