Page 34 of Wasted On You

“Okay, I get it now.”

Ollie appeared from nowhere and offered her a glass of champagne. She grabbed hold of it and downed it in one gulp.

“Not happy about it, but I get it.” The Brit looked handsome in a dark tux. The tattoos on the side of his neck crept up and disappeared into his slicked-back hair.

Ivy sighed. “I’m sorry. I…it’s…”

“Complicated?”

“That word doesn’t come close to describing things.”

“Oliver? You’re up.”

They both turned as Mary Margaret appeared and waved him forward.

“I’ve got to go do this.” He nodded toward the stage.

Ivy offered a smile. “I can still bid on you if you want.”

“I think I can get through this without your help.” He winked. “Besides, you’ve got your own problem to work through, and he’s not going to make it easy on you.”

“Kip will understand.”

Oliver took one step forward and paused, looking over his shoulder. “I’m not talking about Kip.” He held her gaze for a couple of seconds and then disappeared through the curtains to a boisterous round of applause and catcalls.

“Would you like a glass of champagne?” A waiter appeared with an entire tray of the sparkling stuff.

“No,” Ivy replied. She was so over this night. She snuck out the back way and called a cab. And as she waited impatiently for it to show, she decided she wasn’t going to think about what had just happened.

At least, not until she had to, because Oliver was right. Mike Paul was a problem. And for a girl who was paid to look after problems, this one wasn’t going so well.

Chapter10

By Tuesday evening,Ivy couldn’t hold off her mother any longer. The woman was like a dog after a bone when she wanted something. And at this particular moment, the bone she wanted to gnaw on was Ivy. She’d blown up Ivy’s phone ever since the auction, and with nothing left in a hefty bag of readymade excuses, Ivy had finally given in and invited her over.

She tossed a pillow onto the sofa and heaved a sigh, irritated that her immediate future would entail the engagement charadeanddodging Deidre’s prying questions. She gazed longingly at the big-screen television. It wasn’t fair. All she wanted was a big bowl of popcorn and at least three uninterrupted hours of Criminal Minds.

“What’s with the long face?” Kip walked out of his bedroom, hair wet from the shower, with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

“In case you forgot, my mom is going to be here soon.”

“I didn’t forget.”

“She prefers people with their clothes on.”

“I’ve got some time.” He winked. “I like your mom.”

“Give it some time. Trust me, it gets worse.”

He walked over to the kitchen island, grabbed an apple from the bowl of fruit, and took a bite before turning back to Ivy. “Must be a mother-daughter thing. I get that. My sister and mother have their moments.”

Since Ivy hadn’t met his family, she couldn’t comment. “I don’t think you can appreciate the storm that is my mother. You’ve met her once, and she was on her best behavior because the sight of this big rock accompanied by a man who looks like a Greek god stole every word inside of her. I swear, I can’t remember the last time she was silenced so effectively.”

“I like that.”

“What?” she snapped.

“The Greek god thing.”

---