Page 39 of Up In Smoke

Ivy had told Jo about her schedule, about how much she liked her assistant Shannon Deleon. Jo also knew exactly who that was and how to get in contact with her and when to knock on the door to catch Ivy before she left.

“What exactly are we doing?” Ivy asked.

“You and I are going to the new spa that opened up. We are having hot rock treatments, facials, and massages. We are supporting the local business.” She added the last one with a self-satisfied grin. Jo knew Ivy believed in supporting the locals. And the spa had opened up recently, trying to bring in business from Redemption and the surrounding areas.

Ivy had to admit that it sounded wonderful, but she didn't have the funds for something like that. Or she did, but they were already earmarked as savings for replacing her big fluffy armchairs. Jo seemed to understand that the two of them—especially right now—were playing the roles of rich man, poor man.

“I've got it covered.” Jo just reached out and grabbed her hand for a moment. “It's my treat to you. You’ve seemed tense these last few weeks.”

She wasn’t wrong. Though the town had moved on from her housefire, she hadn’t. She had her siding up and she was fine in the snows now, but she wasn’t sleeping well. She and Luke were both following along, dating, kissing, spending the night … and waiting for the arsonist to strike again. She hadn’t been able to let her guard down.

Jo on the other hand … Ivy smiled. “You seem good. Leo looks good on you.”

“Maybe.” Jo looked mellow but she was smiling a bright genuine smile. She'd been uptight and standoffish when she'd moved to town. But Jo was Jo, always moving forward, always fighting. Though she hadn't lost any of that, she'd certainly been able to step into her work and into the town and begin to trust them.

Ivy liked to think that she was part of the cause. She didn't think Jo had ever quite had a friend the way the two of them were becoming. She knew she hadn't. She also knew it was time that she told Jo about her past. Luke knew about her, and just the fact that she’d told it to someone was enough to know that, at some point, it would get out. She didn't want Jo to find out from someone else.

“Let me change,” Ivy told her, then she looked her friend over. Jo had just gotten off shift, but she was in her big camel coat, her jeans and cute boots showing from beneath the hem. “You're not too tired? You're sure you want to go now?”

“It was an easy shift. I slept a full night. Besides, you’re right, I've mellowed. Leo has been good for me.”

Ivy couldn't agree more.

“You've been more tense.” Ivy felt her shoulders fall, Jo wasn’t going to let it go.

“Let me change,” she said, and it probably didn't go unnoticed that she’d changed the subject again.

In her own room, she stepped out of her work clothes and into her jeans and a sweater. Jo would definitely recognize the jeans, but Ivy had never been above hand me downs.

“Oh,” Jo declared when Ivy walked out. “I love those. They look better on you than they ever did on me.”

Never mind that Jo was noticeably taller, and that Ivy had cuffed the jeans when Jo had lent them to her originally. But once Jo had sworn they were hers, she had hemmed them.

Jo noticed. “Did you get them hemmed?”

“No, ma'am. I hemmed them myself.”

“That looks professional.”

Ivy laughed again. Jo was more than capable but, having grown up the way she had, she'd not been taught ordinary household or repair skills. Ivy, on the other hand, had been taught every plausible household and repair skill. Jo could hold a hammer because she'd been actively trained to do it as a firefighter. Ivy could because she'd been practically raised with one in her hand.

She could bake bread from scratch and easily hem jeans in a professional manner. One of the first things she'd bought after she'd left home was a sewing machine. Though she wasn't a big fan of sewing, she'd known it was too valuable of a skill to lose. Many of her Hollywood friends had no idea that she'd sewn the majority of her own clothes. Hemming the jeans was nothing.

Jo motioned Ivy out the door and into her little Mercedes. They headed to the spa, a short drive. Ivy had considered telling Jo about her history, but the drive wasn’t long enough to unload the shitshow that was her past.

They were parking before she knew it, and within moments they were inside, Jo's credit card handed over. They had robes on and were waiting to get their toenails done—something she’d not expected from Jo.

Though Ivy was delighted, she almost complained. “Jo, I'm not going to make it back in time to open the library.”

“Of course, you’re not,” Jo scoffed at her. “You can go when you're finished. Shannon knows the deal and she said you're fine to stay as long as you want.”

Shannon wasn't her boss, it was certainly the other way around. But Ivy figured Shannon was enjoying being in charge for a while. She'd certainly handled the place with grace and zero notice when Ivy's house had burned. So Ivy put her faith in her assistant and turned her attention to watching as her feet were wrapped in hot towels and her toenails painted.

Jo had raised her eyebrow and nodded at the bright teal Ivy had chosen. Leo might have mellowed Jo, but Luke was opening Ivy up.

She shrugged at her friend, Jo had already seen the tattoos.

Later, they'd been put into a single room with two tables. Jo had booked them into a couples massage, laughing that it was what was available. “Apparently, Wednesday morning is when you go to the spa in Redemption.”

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