Page 88 of When Ivy Met Mr. Holiday
Poor Shanewas all I could think.
“Five more minutes,” Bradford announced, obviously trying to move things along after Jaquelyn’s little surprise. “And then we judge. Make sure you put an even amount of your hot chocolate in the lidded hot cups provided to you.”
I kissed Ivy’s cheek. “Excuse me. I need to go pour the winning hot chocolate into my cups.”
Ivy scrunched her beautiful nose. “You’ll be drinking those words soon enough. You’re going to cry tears of joy when you taste what can only be considered chocolate heaven.”
She sounded more like herself. Maybe she really was just nervous about the gift.
“Oh, don’t you worry, darlin’, the only tears in my eyes will be from laughing when you lose.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I fished it out while Ivy formulated what I was sure was going to be a snarky comeback. She excelled at them.
“It’s Tori. I better get this.”
Please don’t let this be another PR nightmare.It was Christmas Eve afternoon. You would think people would be too busy celebrating to make trouble or complain. Except . . . Sienna. Damn her.
Ivy’s face turned the brightest shade of red. And if I wasn’t mistaken, she was trembling.
“Um, yeah. You should get that. Like right now.” She leaned against the counter and wrapped her arms aroundher stomach like she might be sick. She’d probably come to the same conclusion as me—Sienna was at it again.
I felt awful leaving Ivy, but we needed to know what the thorn in our side had done now.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t cheat and pour my hot chocolate into your cups,” I teased, trying to add some levity to the situation.
It did nothing to help Ivy feel better. If anything, she went from red to pale green.
“Go, go.” She waved me away.
“It’s going to be okay,” I said before hustling off, hoping I wasn’t lying.
As soon as I walked out of the kitchen, I answered the phone.
“Hey, Tori.” I braced myself for the bad news.
“Hey there, yourself.” She sounded almost chipper.
Tori was never chipper. She was either sarcastic, stressed, or savage.
Perplexed, I stopped near the stairs and leaned against the banister. “Are you trying to deliver the bad news with a side of holiday cheer?”
“Who says I have bad news?”
“I can’t imagine why you would call me on Christmas Eve unless it was bad. Unless . . . someone died, and you’re thrilled about it.”
“Oh, if only. I have a list of who I would love to see in the obits, but a girl can dream.”
Sometimes she scared me, but this was what made her the best PR manager around.
“That said, I do have good news. News that Sienna is probably dying over, which is almost as good as seeing her name in the obits. Although you already know what I’m talking about. I just wanted to let you know that Ivy is incredible, and the love letter to you that she posted is genius and it’s already going viral. And the comments are ah-mazing. Keep up the good work, you two.”
I was even more perplexed than I had been a moment ago. “Tori, what letter?”
She paused. “You don’t know?”
“I have zero idea what you’re talking about.”
“All I have to say is, wow. Ivy’s a keeper, Jack. If you hurt her, I’ll torture you myself. Go online and see for yourself. I’d start with her Instagram page. And, Jack, Merry Christmas.” She hung up, not letting me get in another word.
