13. Ivy

13

IVY

This was getting old.

I was beyond frustrated. In fact, it was bordering on the same level of frustration I felt over the course of the last year when I’d been bending over backwards to put myself out there in hopes of finding someone who might be interested in getting to know me better.

In fact, I was beginning to think I might have gotten to a point where this felt worse than that.

Because in that scenario, I was frustrated by what I didn’t have, what I desperately wanted in my life. But now, it was different. In this case, I’d found someone I enjoyed spending time with, someone I liked being around, and I’d gone ahead and spilled my guts to him.

Days had passed, and I still didn’t know how he felt about what I’d shared. And it seemed that no matter how badly I wanted to talk to him about it, the universe kept stepping in and finding ways to foil my plans.

It all started the day after I’d told Marco the truth about why I’d been taking classes for the last year. I’d arrived at work that morning and had gone over to The Mixing Bowl, my sister’s bakery, to get myself some breakfast.

In realizing just how badly I wanted to have time to talk about things with Marco, I thought it was time to address things with my sister, too.

When she saw me making my approach, she instantly perked up. “Good morning, Ivy.”

“Morning, Jules.”

“Want some breakfast?” she asked.

I nodded. “That’s one reason I’m here.”

She smiled at me. “Well, I’m sorry to say I don’t have any cheesecake. Did you have something specific you’d like?”

“A muffin is fine. Any flavor you choose.” I couldn’t be bothered by details like that right now.

As she moved behind the counter to her muffin display case, Jules asked, “So you have something else?”

“What?”

“You said breakfast was just one reason you were here. What else prompted this visit this morning?”

I sighed, my shoulders falling. “I wanted to come and tell you how sorry I am.”

Jules had selected a muffin and had been making her way back toward me, but at those words she’d stopped. “Sorry? For what?”

Tipping my head to one side, my eyes roamed over her face. “I wasn’t exactly nice to you a couple of days ago when you called to ask me about meeting you for lunch.”

My sister waved her hand dismissively in the air and closed the distance between us, ultimately setting the muffin on the counter. “Oh, don’t worry about that.”

I had been worried about it, though. I’d been feeling guilty about it ever since. “It wasn’t okay.”

“I understand it, though. It’s not like you set out to be harsh for no reason, Ivy. When I reached out to you and had been so persistent, I hadn’t considered how difficult what I was asking of you might have been. You’re dealing with what happened to you, and if you need time to feel comfortable again, it’s okay.”

Tears filled my eyes. Jules was the best of us. We were so lucky to have her in our lives. She was just a constant state of sweetness and understanding. I could only hope to be able to give her that same love and support one day. “Are you sure you’re not upset with me? I know you stopped over with Mom and Dad the other day, but I didn’t want to bring this up with them around.”

Jules stepped out from behind the counter and moved in my direction. She wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tightly. “I’m positive. You’re my sister, and I love you.”

I hugged her back. “Thank you for understanding.”

When she loosened her hold on me and pulled back, she asked, “How are you doing, though?”

I shrugged. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her about Marco just yet, not when I didn’t know how he felt about everything I’d blurted to him. And since she had no idea about him, I focused on what I believed she was asking me anyway—how I was doing after the attack. “It gets better each day.”

“Whenever you’re up for it, I’m ready for that lunch out together.”

Smiling, I hugged her again. “Maybe if we go together.”

Before I could let go of Jules, a familiar masculine voice interrupted. “I get the feeling I might be interrupting something here.”

I tensed, but luckily, Jules didn’t notice. She released her hold on me, stepped back, and looked up at the guy who’d approached us. “Hey, Marco.”

“Morning, Jules.” His gaze shifted between the two of us and ultimately settled on me. I’d been wiping at the tears in my eyes. “Good morning, Ivy. Everything okay?”

I pressed my lips together and nodded. “Yep. I just came to get breakfast.”

He gave me a look that told me he didn’t necessarily believe that was all I’d been doing here. And maybe it had been wishful thinking, but I could have sworn I saw a look in his eyes that indicated he had things he wanted to say to me.

“Are you here for some breakfast, too?” Jules asked him.

I was grateful for her interruption, if only to take a moment to pull myself together.

“I am,” Marco confirmed.

“Something sweet or hearty?” she pressed.

Before he even answered, I knew what he was going to say. I thought back to the conversation we’d had the night I made him chicken. He was a big guy who needed sustenance. “I’ve got to work this morning, so let’s go hearty. Whatever you’ve got and want to make will be fine.”

“Say no more.”

As Jules got to work on Marco’s breakfast, his eyes met mine again. And if I’d been unsure if I was seeing things before, I no longer had any doubts about it. Marco absolutely had thoughts about our last conversation running through his mind.

I tore my gaze from his, stepped around him, and reached for the bag carrying my muffin, which Jules had set on the counter.

“Heading over to the hotel?”

“Yeah.”

“If you want to wait, I’ll walk with you,” he offered.

I swallowed hard. I didn’t know what he was going to say, but I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t curious. So, I gave him a nod and said, “Sure. I can wait.”

Jules finished making Marco’s breakfast, both of us putting some money down on the counter for her—she refused to take any money from the family—before we said goodbye. The relief I’d felt having cleared the air with my sister was short-lived, because as Marco and I walked away, my nerves built.

Whether he sensed it or not, I didn’t know, but Marco was the first to speak. “Look, Ivy, I’ve been wanting to talk to you ever since you shared what you did the other day, and?—”

“Marco!”

At the sound of his name being called, Marco spun around. I did the same, and our eyes landed on my dad, who was moving swiftly in our direction. We waited as he closed the distance, and when he came to a stop in front of us, he said, “I’m so glad I caught you. Where are you two headed?”

“I came to get breakfast from Jules, and Ivy happened to be here,” Marco shared. “Ivy’s heading back to the hotel to work, and I’m going that way to get to work on the villas.”

“Perfect. I’ll join you. I’ve been wanting to check them out.”

Marco gave him a nod and a smile. “Sure.” His sorrowful eyes landed on mine for a brief moment, and the three of us fell into step again.

My dad filled the silence, asking me about how things were going at the hotel and the events I had coming up in the next few weeks. He also spoke with Marco about the specific progress he was making on the villas. Before I knew it, we’d arrived at the hotel, and all I could do was wave to them both as I returned to work.

Marco and I didn’t get a chance later that day to catch up again.

A few days later, nearly the same thing happened when I’d been standing at the front desk at the lobby when Marco walked in. It was so early in the morning, I was certain we would finally have the opportunity to have a discussion, but no sooner had he walked up to me and opened his mouth to speak, Wyatt walked through the front door, and I had to stop Marco before he even started.

My oldest brother had decided to stop over to see me before heading to his own office in the office building on the Westwood’s campus, because he wanted to discuss Rhea’s birthday gift with me.

Her birthday wasn’t until the end of March, so he had plenty of time, but apparently, he was insistent upon getting started early.

Marco excused himself to head out to work, and I spent the next hour talking to my brother about his plans for his wife’s birthday, plans he’d already done a great job of figuring out on his own.

Timing over the last couple of days just hadn’t worked out well for us, but I was hopeful this was our moment. Because I wasn’t quite sure how much more of this I could take.

It was just after lunch, and Marco had walked back into the hotel. I’d seen him when he left not quite an hour ago, but we’d been swamped at the front desk. I didn’t typically step in to help there unless it was bad, so when Marco looked in my direction and saw how crazy it was, he sent a frustrated but sympathetic look my way.

Things had gotten a bit better while he was gone, and I’d sent off different members of my front desk staff to take their breaks.

So, when Marco strolled back in following his break, I was helping the only guest left in the lobby. He noticed, decided this would be the perfect opportunity, and casually made his way to the far end of the front desk.

As quickly as I could, I got everything sorted for the guests’ reservation. But just as they turned to head toward the elevator—me taking a step in Marco’s direction—they turned around and the woman said, “I’m sorry. I have one more question about the tours.”

“Sure. What can I help you with?”

The guest went on to ask her question, and I quickly answered her. But by the time I sent her off again, I turned and looked to my right. I expected to see Marco standing there, waiting for me.

And while he was waiting there, he was no longer alone.

Tate had shown up and was talking with him.

If I didn’t think they’d both hear me and believe I’d lost my mind, I would have screamed. Why was it this difficult for Marco and me to get just a few minutes of uninterrupted time together? Why couldn’t we just have a single conversation without constant disruptions?

My head dropped back, I balled my hands into fists, and I clenched my jaw. I wasn’t even sure this was frustration at this point. It felt like some cruel, twisted joke. I let out another sigh, felt a headache coming on, and dropped my head forward.

Tate’s back was to me as he leaned an arm on the counter. Marco had been paying attention to Tate, but when I sent my stare in their direction, he noticed. And I could see the apology in his eyes.

My brother must have realized Marco was no longer paying attention to him, because he stopped speaking and turned around. Concern littered his features as I made my way over to them.

“Hey, is everything okay? You look upset or angry or something. What’s going on?”

I shook my head. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. Something’s wrong.”

I couldn’t very well tell Tate precisely what my problem was—that I wanted just ten minutes to talk to Marco alone—so I had to come up with a lame excuse. “It’s just… it’s been a long couple of days, and today has been the worst of it.”

Tate wasn’t satisfied with that answer. “Did something happen?”

“No. Nothing specific. There are just some days that are better than others. Today’s been especially busy, and I haven’t had five minutes to think.” When he eyed me curiously, I figured my best option was to shift the conversation. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I came down to talk to you about the villas.”

“Me? Shouldn’t you be talking to Marco about them? Or even Liam?”

Tate laughed, and it felt like the biggest slap in the face. Obviously, he didn’t have a clue what I was going through, what was on my mind, so I couldn’t blame him. But it was still frustrating.

My brother had not a care in the world when it came to his personal life. He’d gotten that all worked out and was happily married now. I wondered if he remembered how awful he’d felt when things felt so troubling outside of his professional life.

“I’m thinking the plans for what we do to announce the villas are available are not going to be of any interest to Marco or Liam. But those plans will impact you. I thought we could talk strategy for a bit.”

My eyes slid to Marco. I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like I expected him to have any options available to get me out of this. Though I could see the disappointment in his stare, he tried to keep things lighthearted. “It looks like your day is just gearing up for more fun.”

I rolled my eyes. “Gee, thanks.” Returning my attention to my brother, I clipped, “I haven’t had anything to eat yet, so if you want this meeting, I’m going to need it to come with food.”

Tate laughed again. “I’ll order you whatever you’d like to have. Or, if you’d prefer, I can take you out.”

“If only I had known you were buying, I would have waited an hour to take my lunch break,” Marco teased. “I’ve got to get back to work. Good to talk to you, Tate.” He shifted his attention to me. “I’ll catch you later, Ivy.”

A moment later, he was gone. I had to pretend I wasn’t the least bit bothered by how easily he walked off.

I let out a sigh of disappointment, went to my office to grab my things, and returned to where I’d left Tate. “You’re buying and driving.”

Tate led me out of the hotel and to his car.

And on the drive to lunch, I couldn’t stop my thoughts from running wild. Marco seemed to keep trying to find the time to talk to me, even if it never worked out. While he had made that effort, there was something about the ease with which he walked away I couldn’t get past.

Was it a relief for him to not have to address what I’d said?

Without any answers, without having a moment to talk to him, my mind was a mess. And I knew, even when I returned to the hotel later, something else would come up that would stop me from learning the truth about how he felt.