Chapter 13
thirteen
Nessa
I find Lily and Delia sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea when I get home, so I grab myself a mug and join them.
Right away, the topic turns to Seth and the bookstore.
According to the girls, he’s been spending more time hanging around the bar and avoiding the store as much as he can while Rosie, the flower shop owner next door, is training the person taking over.
Delia’s been trying to get information about the new owner, but every time she brings it up, he sort of growls and then glazes over.
“I’m worried about him. He’s quieter than usual. Which is saying something.” Delia lifts one shoulder. “I’ll figure it out eventually.”
From there, Lily gushes about how well things are going at the dance studio.
“Registration roll over from the surrounding towns is great,” she says, her smile bright.
“I’ve had this wild influx from a local college.
The students remember me from my influencing days, I guess.
They even asked if I could put together a workshop on content planning and creation, that kind of stuff.
It’s been fun to watch them carve out a niche and help them get started. ”
In typical Lily fashion, the more excited she is, the faster the words spill from her.
“What about you?” She props her chin on her hand and homes in on me.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Mateo lately.
The Springer claims you’re dating.” Her eyes flash with mischief.
“Are you dating Stef’s brother? What about everything you said after you left Boston?
Or after you hooked up with Matty? And what’s with the personal chauffeur service? ”
Delia looks at Lily, wide-eyed, and I swallow a large gulp of tea. I regret it half a second later when it burns my tongue. I open my mouth and inhale sharply for relief, then let out a noisy exhale.
“Yeah,” Delia says. “I barely see you lately. What’s going on there?”
“Shit stirrer,” I balk, imagining a world where I exact revenge by mixing Nair in her shampoo.
I couldn’t, though. I love her too much.
With a sigh, I gently spin my mug on the tabletop.
“Hmm. Let’s see. He’s still annoying, but Satan is worse.
That man is creepy. Matty and I are working on the festival together anyway, so we thought maybe we could scare Satan off by letting him think I’m spoken for.
” Head tilted, I shift in Lily’s direction.
“Speaking of which, can I go over things for the studio and The Featherweight with you while I have you? Would love to check those boxes.”
“Remember last year when River visited me in Vermont? Before things started with us for real?” Lily beams.
Perfect. Delia surely has more questions, but they’ll have to wait. Lily is in control of the conversation again.
“He and I agree that fall in New England is so romantic.” She clasps her hands in front of her. “We want to do it again, but the right way. Anyhow, we’re going up for a few days and plan to pick up a ton of fresh syrup. Which means the Maple Porter will return to the menu.”
I waggle my brows. “Bring me some extra, and we’ll do a big brunch soon.”
“You got it!” She taps something in her phone, then flashes the screen, showing a note that reads bring back extra syrup for Nessa on the multi-day Vermont Trip line.
“Jim said that the folks from Harebrained Helpers are going to have a flock of adoptable pets for us,” I tell Delia.
“Apparently, a new volunteer didn’t check the tags when putting some of the bunnies back, and they multiplied, you know, like rabbits.
Could we hold a few overflow pets here before the event? ”
Before she can answer, an alarm blares, interrupting us.
Lily taps her phone’s screen, silencing the ear-piercing sound. “Gotta run.” She stands. “And in case you planned to ask me about housing animals next, I’ll pass. Pete would likely not take well to sharing his space. But maybe there’s space at Stef’s? Ask Mateo.”
I stand and sink into her embrace, so grateful for my framily.
I love my siblings, but the kind of sisterhood I share with my friends is special in so many ways.
“Thanks, Lils. If we need the space, I’ll be sure to check.”
My smile may be a little too bright, but thankfully she’s got her face buried in her phone as she shuffles to the door.
Once the door snicks shut behind her, Delia laughs and shakes her head at me.
“What are you going to do now?” She’s definitely both entertained and afraid.
I smirk. “Well, we’re co-chairs. He’s got a responsibility to help with anything he can. Seems like a reasonable thing for a man living alone to help with, don’t you think?”
“You wouldn’t be going to this much trouble if you weren’t enjoying it.” Brows lifted, she peers at me over the top of her mug.
I mimic the expression. The staring contest goes on a bit too long and I “accidentally” graze her leg, hitting that spot that makes her laugh. Boom, winner.
“Whatever you say, D.” Looks like I need to email Jim and the head of Harebrained to follow up.
She huffs a laugh. “Sure.” She elongates the word, then says, “This is all an act, for Caleb, who isn’t even around right now. Whatever you say.”
I wave her off, having moved on to thoughts of what I’m going to say to Jim. Oh, yes, Jimmy, ole boy. I have the perfect place to house those animals. My “boyfriend” has loads of free space. I’ve got to make sure people believe we’re in this together, of course.
Saturday afternoon, I walk up to Mateo’s house and find an unfamiliar car in the driveway.
He’s outside, wearing a pair of dark gray chinos and a deep plum–colored button-down.
He’s walking my way, doing that key swinging thing, charming me and irritating me in equal parts with his swaggering entrance.
He needs to stop approaching me like every encounter is some sort of movie moment.
“Think fast, Ivy.” He launches the keys at me.
Though I flinch, I manage to catch them. I look down at the series of interlocked rings engraved on the key fob, then peer back at the forest green convertible.
“New car?” I frown.
“Nah. I pulled it out to make space in my garage and figured you could drive it while you figure out what to do about your busted one. I love being your chauffeur, but this way you don’t have to rely on me all the time. You deserve reliable transportation,” he says.
He uses one hand to rub the back of his neck, a nervous tick, but his eyes are glowing.
In quick succession, butterflies take flight in my stomach, but in a matter of heartbeats, they plummet, and dread takes over. An extravagant gift like this could be a trojan horse.
Pulling out my phone, I quickly tap the make and model of the car into the browser.
Once I've hit enter, I suck in a sharp breath.
“You just so happened to own Elle Woods’s car from the Legally Blonde 2 ?
” I snap my head up and blink. Being around this man causes my pulse to thump everywhere.
This is no coincidence. He knows I idolize her.
We share an alma mater, and we’re both girly blondes, with personal characteristics that cause people to underestimate intelligence.
The package he had delivered a few days ago included two extremely beautifully crafted and discreet pieces of jewelry.
A set of pink silicone stacked bracelets connected by a delicate rose gold chain engraved with Ivy and a necklace adorned with a long, skinny pendant.
It didn’t take long to discover the power button.
After that, I assumed that luxury cuffs and a vibrator were the height of amazing and inappropriate gifts from him—and no, I did not return them; the box I left at his house was full of the toys he purchased at the mall—but I was so, so wrong.
Circling the car while I fiddle with the bracelets, I focus on self-talk to calm my raw nerves.
A gift like this doesn’t have to be a trap.
Even so, there’s a voice in the back of my head reminding me that he’s a rich real estate guy, trying to solve my problems with fancy gifts.
Why would he do it if not to ensure that I’ll owe him?
“Happy coincidence,” he says with a dismissive wave.
Forcing a breath in and out, I accept the car—for the moment.
“It’s got all-wheel drive, so it’s safe to drive in the snow. Do me a favor: drive this for the next few weeks so I know you can get places safely while I’m in and out of meetings.”
When I narrow my eyes at him in response, he crosses his arms over his chest, causing his muscles to pull his fitted dress shirt even tighter.
I roll through the options in my head. I could argue with him, which could be fun. Or I could accept the offer graciously and drive this sexy little convertible while I figure out my next steps.
I hum and tap my lips to hide a smirk.
“Either way, we’re rolling up to dinner in this tonight. I reserved the private dining room at The Featherweight. The council wants to discuss the festival and the north side sale, so give me a little spin.” He holds a finger up and twirls it. “Let’s see how you clean up, and let’s head out.”
As I do a quick spin, he makes a loud hum while holding his chin like he’s thinking hard. Eyes darting from one spot to another, like they’re not sure where to linger, he loosens his collar and lets out a sigh.
If I can’t hide my giggles, I can at least turn away. I walk to the driver’s side and peer through the window.
The moment I open the door to slide behind the steering wheel, all my indecision evaporates. The soft leather is stitched like an engraving over the doors, steering wheel, and center console accents. This car is sexy. Damn.
When Mateo finally lowers himself into the seat next to me, I give him a quick wink.
“How’s my passenger princess?” I tease. “How can we service you tonight?”
“We?” His eyebrows rise.
“That’s it? No jokes about servicing you? Wow, this must be a powerful car. I like her.” I slide a hand over the leather once more, barely holding back a purr of appreciation.
“Yes. We’re a team now. You’re right; I deserve the fancy Elle car.” I turn the engine on and rev it once for good measure before backing out and heading to River’s place.
When we slow to navigate the center of town, Mateo hits a button that lowers the gray top, making it extremely easy to be spotted. This is the first time since the Springer’s announcement that we’ve been seen out together.
“Windows down and heat on in the fall is the best.” He leans forward and taps a button on the console. “There. Your seat warmer is on now. You’ll be super comfortable and also get the breeze and the sunlight.”
I side-eye him quickly, then force my focus back to the road. I hate to admit it, but it’s perfect. Cozy.
He once again insists on opening my door, even though I’m the driver. So while I wait for him to round the hood, I flip down the visor and use the mirror to reapply my lip gloss.
Delia has a point. For someone who is not interested in dating Mateo, you sure seem to be interested in flirting with him, annoying him, and looking good around him. I close my eyes, desperate to shut down the little voice in my head that is making this something it absolutely is not.
My door opens, and with a half-bow, Mateo extends a hand.
Biting back a grin, I take it and let him guide me out.
My outfit tonight is cozy but feels extremely sexy.
The cropped sweater with a mock neck is a rich cranberry.
My breasts are well contained, but it’s not possible to ever hide their size.
The sliver of my midriff that shows when I move my arms is flirty without drawing overt attention.
The A-line windowpane plaid skirt that falls to just above my knee balances things well, creating an hourglass shape and making things overall less scandalous.
The neutral colors balance well with the color of the top.
I finished the look off with my trusty Docs and high socks slouched over like the ’80s.
Hand in hand, we cross the gravel parking lot and ascend the stone walkway to the hostess stand. Kyle, Delia’s least favorite server, is working the front of house tonight. She must be thrilled; this keeps him out of her hair.
“Nessa. Great to see you.” He greets me with open arms.
For a moment, Mateo’s hold on my hand tightens, but he quickly releases me.
“Aw,” Kyle says. “Guess this is why I could never convince you to have a drink with me. Who is the lucky gentleman?” He extends a hand.
My date tonight returns the gesture, grasping Kyle’s hand firmly. “Mateo Santos-Manolo. Wish I could say I’m sorry she never said yes.” He steps back and pulls me into his side.
Remembering to play nice, I force myself to relax against him. Warmth radiates between us, eliminating any chill in the fall air.
“We’re joining the council tonight,” I say. “Delia said we’re upstairs. Is that still the plan?”
“Absolutely. It’s the smaller dining room.” He holds out an arm, gesturing for us to head that way. “River’s already up there too. Let me know what you want from the bar, and I’ll send someone up with your drinks while you wait.”
“Perfect. Sparkling water with lemon. And for you?” I ask Mateo through long, fluttering lashes.
“Aw, Ivy.” He drops a kiss on the crown of my head. “A scotch old enough to order its own scotch, please.”
I bite back a laugh. There is no way Kyle will understand the request, so I grab my phone and shoot Delia a text.
Nessa:
Mateo just told Kyle he wants a 21-year-old scotch, but I doubt he understood him.
Delia:
Correct, he just asked me for “old scotch.”
You only want sparkling water with lemon?
Nessa:
I knew he could get that right upside
Delia:
No alcohol? For this dinner?
Nessa:
Nothing strong. I need to keep my wits.
Delia:
Red or white?
Nessa:
Surprise me.
A few minutes after we’re seated, our drinks arrive.
Despite Kyle’s claim about River waiting up here, he’s nowhere to be found.
And I’m not going to knock on that office door.
He and Lily have been unable to keep their hands off each other, and I’m not interested in catching him with his pants down.