Page 42 of Playing for Keeps
“Wyatt and I are heading to Phoenix for the weekend,” Ivy says quickly. “I told you he’s selling his apartment and I’m handling the listing. He picked me up in this and let me drive it over so you could see it.”
She’s practically bouncing with excitement, and I can’t help but smile. I step forward and offer her dad my hand.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. James.”
He returns the handshake with a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you too, Wyatt. Call me Tom.”
Before I can say anything else, Ivy grabs his arm and starts pulling him toward the car.
“Come on, sit in the driver’s seat,” she says, then glances over her shoulder. “That okay?”
“Of course,” I say with a nod.
I watch them both slide into the front seats, her dad behind the wheel, Ivy in the passenger side. I walk over to the open window beside her.
“You can start her up,” I tell Tom. “Just put your foot on the brake and press the start button.”
He nods, and a grin spreads across Ivy’s face as the engine comes to life with a low, powerful growl.
“Oh my goodness,” a voice says behind me. I straighten and turn to see a woman stepping onto the driveway. Ivy’s mom, I assume.
“Mom,” Ivy says, hopping out of the car to join us. “This is Wyatt.” She gestures between us. “Wyatt, my mom.”
I offer a polite smile. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. James.”
“Lovely to meet you too, Wyatt.” She nods toward the car. “Is this yours?”
“It is,” I reply with a nod.
“Wyatt let me drive it over,” Ivy chimes in proudly.
I lean toward her mom with a mischievous grin. “We’d have gotten here quicker,” I say, laughing, “but Ivy didn’t manage to get over ten miles an hour the whole way.”
“Hey!” Ivy cries, swatting my arm. “I wasn’tthatslow.”
“Uh, yeah, you were,” I tease, grinning as she narrows her eyes at me.
I catch Mrs. James watching the exchange with a knowing smile, and I smile back.
“I just wanted Dad to see it before we head out,” Ivy explains.
Mrs. James turns her attention to me. “Ivy mentioned you asked her to list your apartment and help find you a place here in Hope Creek.” She looks at her daughter with a fond smile. “She’s so excited to work with you.”
“Mom!” Ivy groans, her cheeks instantly pink. “You really don’t have to say that.”
“What?” her mom asks, all innocence. “You’ve spent the last week talking about nothing else.”
Ivy shoots me an apologetic glance, and I chuckle. “I’m excited to work with Ivy too, Mrs. James.”
She beams. “Call me Helen, Wyatt.”
“Will do,” I say with a smile.
“I guess we should get going,” Ivy says. “If I can convince Dad to get out of the car, that is.”
“I can take him for a ride next week when we’re back,” I offer.
Her eyes brighten. “He’d love that. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
