All right, so I replied to a few telling them I was in Europe and they were breaching GDPR laws.
It was fun.
And they usually left me alone after that.
And I was very much here for that scenario.
I responded to a few emails that were genuine inquiries. After following up with current clients, I opened one of Holley’s nine emails that had varying subject lines demanding my attention.
Well, that explained the six missed calls and four texts telling me to check my email.
At this point, I was lucky she hadn’t showed up at my front door with a Filofax or some shit. That was the kind of thing she’d do.
Holley’s emails were telling me to ignore all the one from Saylor, which told me that I absolutely had to read Saylor’s and had to do so right now.
From: Saylor Green
To: Tori Sussex
Subject: THIS IS GOING TO PISS HOLLEY OFF
Hear me out. Bobble hats that say BOOK WHORE on the front. And sweaters with ‘I’m a ho for romance’ on them. And t-shirts with ‘Sci-Fi slut’ on.
I laughed at the last one. Yep, that was exactly the kind of thing that would piss Holley off. The problem was, people loved Saylor’s inappropriate book merchandise. Her coffee cups with ‘My books are hotter than this coffee,’ and her shirts adorned with ‘I sleep with a new man every night,’—or something like that—were the bestsellers, and Saylor was on a mission to start an entire line.
Holley still thought what they had was enough.
Kinsley had stopped caring and just let them argue about it. In her own words, she didn’t care as long as it made them money.
I just pulled the designs together.
I shot Saylor back an email that I’d work on it and did one last check of the inbox, then opened my planner. I had a video chat at midday with a client over her branding so I could start pulling her photography website together, which meant my morning was free to work on Piper’s stuff for the bakery.
I was knee-deep in my research in stock sites for inspiration when my phone buzzed next to me. A quick check confirmed it was a text from Ivy.
IVY: What are you doing tonight?
ME: Probably contemplating all my life choices and getting squashed by my cat. Why?
IVY: I’m coming over.
ME: Are you bringing the two-foot-tall terrorist?
IVY: That’s my daughter you’re talking about.
ME: She’s cruising along my furniture. I still haven’t replaced that vase she knocked over.
IVY: At least I know what to get you for your birthday now.
ME: Just tell me if you’re bringing Tegan so I can baby-proof the apartment. And the cat.
Seriously. The last time she came with her on-the-move baby, poor Genevieve almost lost her tail fur.
Not that I blamed Tegan. I didn’t. I loved Tegan. I loved her more than most people, actually—Ivy included—but I still didn’t want to lose any more of my stuff to the tiny wrecking ball on legs.
IVY: I am not bringing her. I’ve been knee deep in diarrhea and vomit and tears for forty-eight hours and I need a break. Kai is watching her so I can breathe.
ME: Is that her diarrhea and vomit? Just asking. I don’t have time to be sick.
IVY: Yes, it’s hers. The tears belong to us both.
ME: Noted. Come over. I’ll cook, we’ll drink wine, and bitch about Gilmore Girls all night.
IVY: I knew I kept you around for a reason.
ME: My stunning wit. Everything else is just a bonus.
IVY: LOL. I’ll be there around seven.
ME: You better.
***
I set the bowl of creamy beef tagliatelle in front of Ivy with a flourish.
She groaned. “If I wasn’t already married to Kai, I’d totally marry you.”
“I don’t swing that way. My college years notwithstanding.” If I didn’t mention that, I knew she’d bring up Saylor… And the few other girls I’d been with that only she knew about.
It hadn’t taken me long to realize that women were drama. I had enough of my own, thank you very much.
“Well, we all experiment,” Ivy said blithely. “Mostly you.”
“You get tester pots of paint. If you’re going to try eight options before you paint your bedroom, why wouldn’t you try all available options for your dating life?”
“I cannot believe you just compared your sexuality to painting your bedroom.”
“Liar. You’re not shocked at all.” I grinned. “And it wasn’t comparing my sexuality. I am straight, despite my college experimentations.”
“I am not,” she conceded, pouring wine into our glasses. “Talking of sexuality…”
“If you’re here to tell me you’re done with Kai’s dick, I have to be honest and tell you that while women are great in bed, I’m not interested in anything long-term with one.”
Ivy stared at me. “Thank you for the information, but that isn’t where I was going.” She paused. “Kai’s dick is just fine.”
“So is hot toast.”
“Victoria.”
“Shut your ass.”
She sighed and stabbed a small piece of beef with her fork. “I think you need to start dating again.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Let me finish.”
“Your what? Sentence? Dinner? Whatever Powerpoint presentation you’ve set up with the pseudo-librarians at the bookstore in town?”
“Damn it.” Ivy slapped the table. “Of course. I should have enlisted Holley on this.”
“Ivy, if you’re telling me that you’re here just to talk me into dating, you’re a sick woman for pretending your daughter is unwell.”
“Oh, she’s got a stomach thing. Kai was covered in vomit before I’d even walked out the door. I pretended not to notice.” Her eyes glittered. “I’d feel guilty, but nobody else was cooking for me tonight, so.” She shrugged and shoved a forkful of pasta in her mouth.
“Ivy Connors,” I said slowly. “Are you telling me you abandoned your husband and baby daughter just for my pasta?”
“Damn straight,” she replied with her mouth still full.
I laughed.
When she was done chewing, she set down her fork and picked up her glass. “Look. I love my daughter. I love my husband. I love everything we’re building, but sometimes I miss being Ivy. Kai is working on Seb’s new building and they’re all working long hours across all the building sites because they’re short-staffed. We’re talking thirteen hours a day if he’s lucky, Tori. With Tegan being sick, I have no time to myself because she won’t let me put her down. I did the world’s fastest pee this morning because she screamed the instant I was no longer touching her.”
“Aren’t they breaking like a thousand labor laws there?”
“Motherhood breaks them every day,” she said dryly. “I don’t know. I just know that if I didn’t get out of the house tonight, I’d have a breakdown and my tears would put Tegan’s to shame.” She stilled, staring at the plate, then looked up at me. “That sounds horrible, doesn’t it? My baby is sick and I’m here, bitching about it, instead of looking after her.”