Page 38 of Up In Smoke

They’d gone to bed and she’d fallen asleep in Luke’s arms for the first time—even if it was just for four hours by that point. So now, she was running on fumes, but she still had things to do.

She pulled up in front of her house to see a large package on her doorstep. Was it wrong to be so suspicious? She’d received deliveries for a while as she ordered replacement items, but she wasn't expecting anything today.

She’d carefully parsed out every penny and ordered what she absolutely needed until she ran out of what she felt free to spend. So finding the box with large letters on the sides and the clear logo of a TV company made her wonder.

A printed note was taped to the front of it. Reaching out, she gingerly plucked it from the tape.

Deliver to: Ivy Dean.

That was followed by her address and information about the tv that was in fact in the box. It was large but not huge, more money had gone into quality than width. Beneath all that was an additional sentence that it was paid for by Luke Hernandez.

She rolled her eyes at no one and, still standing on her front porch, grabbed her phone and called him.

“Hey,” he answered with a smile she could hear. “You about ready to head over?”

She didn't even address his question. “Luke. Why are you buying me a very expensive TV?”

Then the thought occurred to her, “Is it because we’re sleeping together?”

“Noooooo!” The word was drawn out, multisyllabic, and he sounded truly offended by her suggestion. While it made her feel better that that hadn’t been his reasoning, she felt worse now. She needed to apologize. But honestly, she'd known too many women who weren't officially sex workers … They’d simply worked out arrangements. Though they had no single man who could be referred to as a sugar daddy. Their rent was paid one month by one man. Loaded credit cards appeared in their hands. Lavish gifts were bestowed.

For all that she had done, Ivy had never quite been willing to exchange sex for favors or money. “Luke, I don't need you to—”

“Obviously, you don't.” He interrupted, his tone abrupt and maybe a little angry. “I want to say it was just a gift, but …” His voice lowered. “Honestly, I feel guilty that you lost everything. So just let me get you the fucking TV.”

She would have fought him on it, if not for the tone of defeat in his voice, if not for the anger that came through that she knew wasn't really directed at her.

“I'm sorry,” she said, though whether she was sorry for her improper conclusions or for the fact that she would never have taken the TV until he browbeat her into it, she didn't know. Maybe it was all of the above.

She held out what little olive branch she could. “Why don't you come back with me after our meeting? Help me set it up?”

There was a long pause that worried her, but then he said, “I'd like that.”

It wouldn't hurt her to have anyone watching, let them see him arrive on her doorstep and stay for a while. “Okay, I’ve got to hang up and get this behemoth inside.”

“Are you heading over here soon?”

“Yeah, I just came home to change.” They said goodbyes and she decided to change out of her heels before she brought the tv in.

She thought about how she wouldn't have changed clothes after work had this happened last week. She was happy in her twin sets and her skirts. But Luke had gotten her to thinking: She wasn’t so much happy with the clothing itself as she was with the way it made people perceive her. And maybe she didn't need to be perceived as utterly proper and untouchable.

So she put on the pair of jeans that Jo had gifted her, leaving the twin set sweaters in place. It was cold and she wasn't quite ready for a full makeover. She’d done two of those already in her life. But maybe she could just add new pieces without worrying about the town of Redemption knowing that she was trustworthy, that she wasn’t making poor choices, that they could ask her their questions and put their secrets in her hands.

She zipped the jeans and added a cute pair of boots, then declared herself done. But as she headed back out to the porch to bring the TV inside, the hair on her neck rose. For a moment she struggled with the box, holding the door open with her foot, trying to lift the awkward weight and ultimately just sliding it over the threshold.

When she got the TV inside, her nerves didn’t settle. Ivy realized she wasn't simply concerned about her new belonging getting stolen. The sensation of being watched was still there, even though she'd stepped in and locked the door behind her.

Scanning the street and her yard, she checked for unusual cars or movements coming from the stand of trees between two of the houses. She was just two houses down from a little strip of woods that led into the greenway that connected the town.

Despite her checks, she didn't see anyone. Even her neighbors weren't out. And she was left with the eerie feeling that the birds being silent meant something.

But was she simply paranoid or was there really something out there?

Chapter Thirty

“Icalled Shannon.” Jo told Ivy with a smirk on her face as she stood on the front porch where she’d knocked just as Ivy was getting ready to leave for work. “There’s nothing you can do about it.”

That was the problem with small towns. Everyone knew everyone else.

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