Page 38 of Writing On The Wall

CHAPTER NINETEEN

ETHAN

“That was perfect! You’re such a natural at this,” Crystal, the network’s production assistant, says with a sultry smile. She brushes her shoulder against mine as we walk out to the parking lot together. We reach the sedan I rented, and I can’t help but miss the beast of a truck the producers lent me for the ten-minute test episode we shot today.

“So…we should get together sometime if you end up moving here.” She pauses at the car and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Sure,” I say non-commitedly. Crystal seems nice, but I have no idea what the future holds, and moving to Frisco, even though it’s still in Texas, isn’t something I’ve even considered. Right now, I’m just focused on taking this renovation show one step at a time. And although we haven’t discussed where the show would be based, I kind of assumed it’d be in Aster. Yeah, that’s the only reason I’m turning down a date with another woman.

“Great.” Crystal beams at me like I just promised her a bushel of puppies.

Yikes.

I make it back to my hotel, feeling exhausted, and flop onto the bed after showering off the dust from our staged mock demolition. I tell myself I’ll just lie down for a minute before heading out to hit some golf balls, but it’s not long before I can feel my eyes closing. Without my permission, an image of Ivy’s house floats through my mind.

I’m half asleep but still feel the tug of my mouth as I recall the last message she left on her wall, beneath the one I started about her ladder. I’d memorized her untidy handwriting, revealing the secrets she keeps so close.

“I’ll climb what I wanT. rule numbur three”

The courage it took her to write that, knowing she’d probably make spelling errors…It’s enough to just about undo a man. A warmth had spread throughout my chest when my eyes first caught on the new line of words because it meant I made her feel safe. And it’s a big deal, finding out that Ivy is starting to trustme.She sure as hell isn’t letting others in. Well, besides Toby.

Toby, Toby, Toby.

I feel a little guilty despising a man that most people would find quite likable. But he’s dating the woman I can’t seem to get out of my mind, so who can blame me? And truly, it’s a good thing she’s unavailable. This show could take me places, and getting involved with Ivy would only lead to my worst fears coming true once I’d inevitably move on to the next adventure and leave her brokenhearted.

I’m drifting off again when my phone buzzes on the nightstand. I roll onto my side to reach for it, my lips parting in a grin when I see Ivy’s name.

I hit play on her voice note, closing my eyes while her husky voice fills my hotel room. “Hey, um, I made brownies. Well, I microwaved brownies. The oven still doesn’t work.Anyway, just wondering if you’re coming over today. Zero pressure. I just…I kinda made a mess? It’s fine. But, um…I’ve reached the point of needing professional help I think—ouch—dangit! Thiswason the fixit list, so it had to happen. It just might not have happened the way it’s supposed to. Anyhoo, this is officially a rambling message so I’ll end it now, kay byyye!”

I plop the phone down beside me after pressing play on the message just to hear her voice again. I stare at the ceiling as I listen and try to imagine what kind of chaos she’s unleashed this time.

Straightening up against the headboard, I pick up my phone and tap the video icon for a Facetime call. Her face pops up on the screen, making my mouth pull into a slow smile.

“Wow, okay, um, hi,” she says awkwardly, her eyes flickering around the room.

“What’s wrong?”

“Uh…nothing. It’s just, you’re shirtless. Didn’t expect that.” She clears her throat and fidgets with her collar, and my amusement grows as I reach for the shirt at the end of my bed.

“Is that your room?” she leans forward, squinting at the screen. With her face closer, I notice the red stripe above her left eyebrow.

“Marsh, tell me that’s paint on your forehead.”

“Yup. Sure. Let’s go with that.”

“Ivy,” I groan, my hands itching to cup her head and inspect it.

“Stop being such a bossy pants. I can open a paint sample and swipe some on my head if it’ll make you happy.”

What she doesn’t get—and what I can’t say—is that for some unknown reason, I’ll only be happy when she stops putting herself in danger.

“I left you a pair of safety goggles, but I kinda feel like you need a helmet,” I say dryly.

“Safety goggles don’t fit over my prescription glasses,” she rolls her half-lidded eyes with a slow pivot to the camera.

But then the nameTobyninja kicks itself into my head, putting a damper on my Ivy appreciation. I need to remember the woman has a boyfriend, even if she doesn’t act like it or talk about him.

“What’s this mess you’ve made?” I clear my throat, redirecting the conversation to a safer topic.

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