Chapter 23
IVY
I plunked my cup back in the saucer, and hot tea sloshed over the sides, burning my fingers. “Th-that’s not possible.”
“It is possible, babe. I saw the profile. Has his picture and everything.”
“Could it be old?”
Had he met black panties on BlueFin?
“No. I mean, the account could’ve been created at an earlier date, but the messages are current.”
“What messages?”
I pushed my soup bowl away, dug my elbow into the table, and sank my forehead to my palm.
“This is where it gets bad.”
“Gets bad?”
My knees were bouncing up and down so hard, I was shaking the whole table.
“He’s been sending private messages to members about...stuff.”
“Stuff? You mean sex?”
I laughed, but it came out more like a croak from my dry throat. “I don’t believe it, Chloe. That’s not Ian. Have you already forgotten about the dick pics? It’s a setup.”
“Oh my God. Has he been peeing on you?”
“What? No! What are you talking about?”
“Sex in public?”
“No, I mean, does doing it in the backyard count?”
I dragged a hand through my hair. “Why are you asking me these questions?”
“Those are the kinds of things he’s suggesting in his messages...kinky shit.”
“You mean kinky pee.”
I smacked my hand on the table and laughed. “This is as fake as Duke Hammer’s dick.”
A couple two tables over, studying their phones, jerked their heads up in unison. They must understand English.
Chloe huffed. “Duke’s dick isn’t fake. I read all about him after that fiasco. Quite the esteemed career.”
“I don’t believe any of it, Chloe. His ex has some kind of vendetta against him. This stinks.”
“He’s never given you any reason to doubt him? Hiding his phone, working late.”
“N-no.”
I sealed my lips and proceeded to shred a napkin to bits in my lap.
“You don’t sound so confident anymore.”
Chloe whistled. “Hang on. Why’d you call me at five o’clock in the morning?”
“Six.”
“Spill.”
“Ian confessed to me that he relapsed when we were apart—but just twice. He’s back on track.”
Now it was my turn to beat around the bush.
“Okay, well that’s not unusual, and that’s why you went out there. You suspected he might be spiraling without you. He’s good now?”
“Doing great.”
I gathered the mangled pieces of napkin and dumped them on the table. “We went to the recording studio yesterday, which is why I’m at the British Museum.”
“You’re at the British Museum right now? Did you see the mummies?”
“No, I’m here for some exhibition.”
I drew in a long breath. “Anyway, after the session yesterday, we went to his bachelor pad in London.”
“He has a bachelor pad? Uh-oh. Fuck-buddy central.”
“Stop. But, yeah, it’s stark and modern and sterile. Anyway, I found a puddle of whiskey in a glass in the bedroom and a bottle of champagne in the fridge, so I put two and two together, and he confirmed that’s where he relapsed.”
“Alright. Where is this going, Ivy? Is that where he asked to pee on you?”
“Enough with the pee.”
I rubbed my chin. Did I want to open the floodgates here? “After I left this morning, I also found a pair of women’s black panties under the bed.”
Silence echoed over the line. “Chloe?”
“That cheating SOB. He boozed it up, banged some chick, and now he’s on BlueFin making perverted requests.”
“I don’t think so, Chloe. I know he’s not on BlueFin. That’s not his real profile.”
“And the panties? That’s the oldest tell in the book of cheating.”
“There has to be a good explanation for it, Chloe. Everything between us is so wonderful. He turned over the office in his home to me, he cooks dinner sometimes, he sang me the most beautiful, heart-breaking song yesterday, we screw like bunnies. It’s perfect, except...”
Chloe coughed. “Except for the cold bachelor pad, the panties under the bed, and the account on BlueFin.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
I clutched the phone to my ear. “Except for my deception. How can I even give him the third degree about the underwear when I’m keeping such a terrible secret from him?”
“Just because you’re taking a little money on the side—to benefit both of you—doesn’t give him license to cheat.”
“I just don’t think he is.”
“Is that why you called me? So you could defend Ian and convince yourself.”
“Maybe. I’m going to give him a chance to explain everything, and maybe I should explain everything to him, too.”
“That’s a bad idea.”
“Weren’t you the one telling me before I left that I should confess all?”
I took a small sip of my lukewarm tea.
“That was before I found out he was a cheating rat bastard.”
“You always believe the worst of him. You even thought the dick pics were his.”
I put my hand to my throat, as the rest of Chloe’s words surfaced in my brain. “What were you talking about earlier when you mentioned that PopWiz account?”
“That’s what I’m saying, Ivy. You may be in La-La Land, but the word is already on the street that Ian has a profile on BlueFin. PopWiz reported it in a blind item.”
The half bowl of soup I drank sloshed in my stomach. Not again. The online attacks against Ian had revved up, and the timing couldn’t be worse. “If it’s in PopWiz, it must be true. Do you hear yourself right now? It’s just garbage.”
“It might be, but if you think outing yourself to Ian right now with your past is a good idea, you’re still in La-La Land. You’ll both be prime fodder for online attacks.”
“I’m going to get to the truth today. If it turns out this is another scheme against him, do you think you could help again?”
“If it turns out he’s not a cheating rat bastard, I’ll see what I can do. I just want to make sure you’re okay, Ivy. You’re in love for the first time, and I want it to work out for you.”
Chloe sputtered. “Oh, wait. I have more news.”
“Oh, God.”
I patted my chest. “I don’t think I can take any more. What next? Ian Pope wanked off in front of Princess Kate?”
Chloe laughed. “This one doesn’t have anything to do with Ian, at least not directly. Wait for it.”
She paused dramatically. “I got a camera into Matt’s apartment.”
“What?”
I shot up straight in my seat. “What were you doing in Matt’s apartment? Did you break in?”
Chloe snorted. “I didn’t have to break in. You know Matt’s always had a thing for me.”
“Oh, God, no. You didn’t sleep with him, did you?”
I covered my eyes as if to block the image from my mind.
“No, although your brother is seriously hot. You know, his eyes are greener than yours, much prettier, and what he lacks in work ethic, he makes up for in the gym. Built like a...”
“Okay, okay. What excuse did you give him for dropping by, and what are we going to do with a camera? Wait, are you watching my brother in his apartment?”
“I do check in once in a while, and you don’t wanna know what he’s up to in there. Anyway, I went to his place to give him your dad’s watch. You meant to do that, right? Told him I was cleaning house and found it.”
“Then, what? He went to the bathroom, and you installed CCTV in his apartment?”
Chloe scoffed. “It’s just one of those little stick-on cameras. He’ll never find it.”
“You’re trying to see if he takes out the flash drive that contains my guilt and what, strokes it, licks it? I appreciate the effort, but what’s the plan?”
“You’re going to call him all in a panic one day—let me know the day and time—and ask him to make sure the flash drive is safe and secure.”
“He’ll just tell me it is and hang up.”
“Give him a reason to worry. He checks on the flash drive, I catch its hiding place on camera, and then we go in for the kill. Then I break into his place and steal it, or I make the big sacrifice and sleep with him, before I roofie him and nab the drive.”
Drumming my fingers on the table, I asked, “Wouldn’t you roofie him first and then steal the drive? Why would you need to sleep with him?”
“Just to make sure he’s good and drowsy.”
“You wouldn’t roofie someone. That’s illegal, and it’s giving me the ick.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll just wear him out in bed.”
“Now you’re really giving me the ick.”
I tugged on my earring. I must be losing it because this plan of hers sounded like it might work. “If we’re gonna do this, you’re not doing the hard part on your own. I’ll fly out there and help you get the flash drive. I can find another way to distract him, or you can break in while I take him outside.”
The adrenaline pumping through my system fueled an optimism about my predicament I hadn’t felt since I accepted Jack’s offer. We could do this. I could save myself, save Ian, and we could really be together with no secrets between us. Not that he’d ever kept any secrets from me. He’d been painfully open with me from the start. And I’d done nothing but lie.
“You like the plan?”
Chloe couldn’t keep the I-told-you-so out of her voice.
“I do like it, Chloe. I think it could work. Then I could be with Ian without any fears or reservations.”
“Just cool your tits. Before I go to any effort to clear your path to happily ever after with the popstar, you need to make sure he’s not a cheating rat bastard.”