4. Ivy
FOUR
Ivy
My heart is pounding so hard that I think it might actually punch through my ribcage. But I’ve gotten this far.
And by this far, I mean I walked the short distance from my porch to Xaden’s, and I’m standing in front of his door, trying to muster up the strength to knock.
Ugh, come on, Ivy. It’s just a job.
But as much as I know that logically, it is just a job, and as much as I know that I really need the money and Daisy is so great, I can’t get the butterflies in my stomach to calm the fuck down.
I barely slept, too. That made for a rough start this morning, and I just know that my makeup isn’t doing a good enough job of hiding the bags under my eyes.
I just really need this job, and I genuinely like Daisy. She’s a great kid, and her father is…
Well, okay, we’re not going to start down that road. No, no, no.
Sure, I have some extra savings, but I’ve been using it to get here and survive until I could find a job. It’s definitely running thin at this point.
I want to live comfortably in Red Lodge. I want to make this my home. And yes, I know that I had wanted to make NYC my home, but I couldn’t stay there.
Not with him lurking in the shadows.
No, the city isn’t happening, so I want to make the best of this move. I know I can enjoy the country life, but I need a steady income to do that.
And Xaden is exceptionally well equipped to offer me something to keep me satisfied.
I flinch as I hear my own thoughts and the innuendo they’re coated in. Dammit, Ivy, no. You will not think of your boss like that.
After I’ve stood there for far too long, I knock on the door, my heart now firmly lodged in my throat.
Xaden appears on the other side of the door in a flash, a wide grin on his face.
“Hey, Ivy. Come on in. I’ll give you the tour.”
The tour of Xaden’s house, which is significantly larger than mine and certainly in better shape, goes off without a hitch. Quickly after that, I’m left alone with Daisy for the day.
I fall right into step with her, like we’ve been seeing each other for years. In no time flat, we’re playing dress-up in her room, then tea party downstairs, and even a little chase the evil pirate, played wonderfully by me, in the backyard.
After a whirlwind of a morning, it’s time for her nap, and Daisy actually goes down really well.
I wouldn’t have been surprised if she fought it, considering how much fun we were having. Still, she listens to me read The Bad Seed and then drifts off in her dim room while a nightlight, which is apparently new according to her, covers the walls in spinning multi-colored unicorns.
As I head downstairs to make myself some lunch, since I forgot to eat even though Daisy got fed, I let out a pleased sigh.
It’s been so long since I’ve been relaxed like this. Well, not that long. Just the move across the country, but somehow, that week-long trip felt like eons.
Probably because I kept checking the rearview mirror for any indication of someone following me.
Which is ridiculous.
In any case, being around a kid—doing what I love—has helped me to feel like myself again, and it’s with a much lighter heart that I head into the kitchen to figure out what I can eat.
I’m aware of Xaden’s poor cooking skills and reliance on delivery, so I’m not optimistic about the options.
It’s just then that I remember hearing the front door open and close while I was taking Daisy upstairs. Xaden must have come home to work in his office for the afternoon.
He told me it was a strong possibility, and as I walk to the kitchen, I peer down the hallway that leads further into the house past the stairs.
In the quiet, I can hear the clicking of keyboard keys in the distance and a squeaky office chair.
“Hard at work.” I chuckle softly, going back to my plans for finding food.
The kitchen is about as stocked as I expected, but I do find some macaroni noodles and butter. Mix in some Italian seasoning, and I’ve got an honest-to-goodness lunch.
I find a pot and start boiling water for the pasta. As I wait, I can’t help but wander around a little.
The house is cozy for how large it is, but it is minimally decorated. And not because Xaden is leaning into that ultra-modern minimalist style.
There are photos and pillows, and the textures are soft so that Daisy can pretty much play everywhere. But aside from the kid-friendly stuff and toys, there isn’t much that expresses Xaden’s personality.
It’s obvious that he gets things for her, not himself.
I meander to the mantle above the grand living room fireplace. The dark wood is beautiful, and on top of it are a handful of photos and a few generic knick-knacks, the likes of which you’d see in a model home, not someone’s actual house.
In the pictures, Xaden and Daisy are smiling so damn big. It’s a joy to see them so happy, and I notice that they’re not alone either.
There’s a woman with them. She’s strikingly beautiful, her green eyes the mirror of Daisy’s.
“Huh,” I mumble, surmising that it has to be her mom.
But there are only these four pictures. I don’t see others hanging on the wall, except for one near the front door.
And that one is just Xaden and Daisy from probably a year ago.
Where’d you go, lady?
“That’s Daisy’s mom.”
Xaden’s voice cuts through my thoughts, and I jump. “Jesus! You scared me.”
As I turn around, Xaden is smirking, doing his best to avoid laughing. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. “It’s fine.”
And then what he said hits me. I turn back toward the mantle, eyeing the photos.
“Oh. I kind of wondered. Where, umm…”
But I can’t finish the question, feeling a little like I was just caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Thankfully, Xaden takes the reins.
“She passed away in a car accident.”
My stomach clenches as my jaw drops open. I immediately falter, my hands going to my mouth.
“Oh, no. I’m so sorry, Xaden. I didn’t mean to drag that up. That’s awful.”
He nods, but there’s a vacant expression on his face like he’s gone somewhere else in his mind.
“It’s alright.” He sucks in a breath, shaking his head as he visibly pulls himself out of wherever he just went. “I’m sure you were wondering. It’s normal to be curious why I need a nanny.”
I can’t hold his eye contact, my stare falling to the floor as I pull my sleeves down over my hands. After a moment, I take a long blink and then look back up at Xaden.
“What happened? God, I’m sure Daisy was so confused. She’s still so little.”
Xaden swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and he nods in a repetitive, likely soothing gesture.
“Yeah, it’s been…well, it’s stupid to say hard. That’s pretty obvious. Daisy does okay. But it’s not like a four-year-old understands death.”
“No, I can’t imagine she does.”
There’s a tense silence that spreads between us like fog. I can see how rigid Xaden is, his jaw muscles standing out in his face. He’s not really saying more, and I can’t blame him.
I’m basically a stranger, and it’s not a fun topic to discuss. As much as I want to understand what happened—morbid curiosity and an inquiry that might help me work with Daisy—I’m not about to push him, either.
Opening up about the past, particularly an unpleasant one, can be pretty challenging. And I know that from personal experience.
“I really am sorry, Xaden. That’s terrible. I’m here if you ever want to talk or if you have questions about how Daisy seems to be handling it. She really is a wonderful little girl. You should be really proud.”
He perks up slightly at that, meeting my eyes after focusing solely on the floor for several moments.
“Thank you. So, umm, she’s been good today?” He furrows his brow, looking at me like he’s in desperate need of a subject change.
I smile, happy to help move the conversation somewhere more pleasant. “She’s been an angel. Truly. We’ve had the best day, and she went down without a fuss.”
His eyes widen as he smiles. “That’s amazing. She’s known to fight naps.”
“Well, we ran around a lot. I imagine she was actually tired.”
Xaden grins, and I lose myself in that little dimple in his right cheek. My pulse flutters close to the surface, and as the silence threatens to be awkward, the hiss of water hitting the stove interrupts the quiet.
“Oops. I was making pasta. Just a second.”
I hurry over to the stove, turning it down and adding the noodles. As I do, Xaden walks over to the island, leaning against the counter.
“I forgot I had that. I don’t think I have sauce, though.”
With a wave of the wooden spatula, I just smile, making sure to keep the pot in my peripheral vision.
“Eh, no worries. You have butter and Italian seasoning. It’ll be all good.”
He turns the corners of his mouth down, his blue, blue eyes gleaming with amusement. “Huh, I wouldn’t have thought of that. Good idea.”
I pluck my collar like I’m showing off, and we both giggle. It’s a dumb move, but the tension that was crowding around seems to have broken. As I reach into the fridge for the butter, I pull out a bottle of apple juice I’ve been giving to Daisy.
“Care for a drink?”
Xaden laughs again, but when he nods, my phone buzzes in my pocket, interrupting me when I need to grab a glass from the cupboard.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I see the icon for another new text message, and my stomach drops.
It hasn’t even been a full twenty-four hours. Is it really another text from him?
The question is answered quickly, and I don’t like it one bit.
There’s a single text from that same unknown contact. Even though I promptly deleted the other message, I can recognize the number.
And again, because I’m a glutton for punishment, I open the text.
You can run, but you can’t hide from me, Vivi.
If I wanted to deny that it was who I thought it was, this obliterated any chance of that. There is only one person who has ever called me Vivi.
Dammit.
“Are you okay?” Xaden’s question pulls my attention up, and I quickly exit out of the text app and put my phone back in my pocket. “What was that?”
“Oh, nothing. Sorry. It’s just another one of the dumb spam texts that keeps getting through. They almost got me with this ‘virus detected’ message. Assholes.”
With a sympathetic, crooked grin, Xaden nods. “Ugh, I hate that shit. These people really need to find something better to do.”
“Agreed,” I pronounce, and then go about pouring him a glass of apple juice along with one for myself.
He takes it with a laugh and then excuses himself for more work. I just smile as he walks back to his office, tending to my lunch even as the idea of food now turns my stomach.
As the noodles finish, I turn off the stove and stand there in front of the pot for a moment. I need a colander, but that’s not why I can’t move.
He can’t find me here. I have the same NYC number. That’s all. He’s not here. You’re safe.
I continue to press the line with logic, trying to rely on that part of my brain so that I don’t devolve into a state of utter panic.
But my nerves are still fraying at the edges, and I’m still too aware of my pulse in my neck. He can’t find me. He can’t .
I’ve actually begun to make a life for myself here, and now I have a child in my care. I won’t let that man harm me here.
Absolutely not.
Yeah, and what are you going to do, Ivy? Little lambs don’t fight wolves.
The familiar threat burns in my mind as the words drilled into me for years haunt me. After a moment, I shake myself out of it.
Daisy will be up soon, and I have work to do. So, I take the pot to the sink and dump the contents down the drain.
I’m not hungry anymore.