27. Ivy
twenty-seven
Ivy
Three Months Later - Present Day
God, it’s strange to be back home.
Florence, with its cobblestone streets and Renaissance art, already feels like a distant memory.
We crest the hill past Boeing Field and the familiar skyline of Seattle comes into view, stirring up a maelstrom of emotions. I left almost three years ago. Broken. Unable to function. I never thought I’ d return.
Now I’m back. A far cry from the scared, desperate girl who was willing to do anything to escape my father. I’m almost twenty-one, a woman who’s come into her own.
“How are you feeling?” My mom’s voice is tinged with worry as she takes the exit to our neighborhood. “You’ve built a nice life in Florence. You don’t have to give it up.”
I gaze out the window at the new construction all around me. So much has changed in my city that holds so many memories. “I’m worried about Dad, of course, but I was ready to come home. Honestly.”
“He’s been holding strong, but the chemo is really taking its toll.” Her grip tightens on the steering wheel. “Having you here means the world to him.”
Mom pulls through the gate into the driveway and the sweeping grounds come into view.
It’s funny how I never paid much attention to the plush, green lawns, elegant flower beds, and towering trees. With my newfound appreciation of architecture, I take in the tall white columns, large arched windows and the rich, dark wood double doors. It’s stunning. I can’t believe I grew up here and I’m only admiring it now.
We step inside and I breathe in the familiar scent of fresh lilies and lavender, which is piped through the central air system. The grand entryway, with its marble floors and sweeping staircase, is adorned with exquisite paintings of my family, from my great grandparents to me and Forrest. Every surface is impeccably polished and dozens of vibrant floral arrangements are positioned around the room.
This was my prison. Viewed through new eyes, it’s gorgeous. Welcoming, even.
Huh.
“He’s back here.” Mom leads me down the expansive hallway to the great room, a vast, inviting space with high ceilings and plush furnishings. My dad is set up comfortably in his favorite armchair, watching the news on a massive flat-screen TV.
Seeing him frail and tired leaves me momentarily breathless and I know coming back was the right decision. It’s been a long time since I’ve hugged my dad.
A lump forms in my throat. “ Dad .”
“Ivy!” His face lights up. “It’s nice to see you, sweetheart.”
I rush over and hug him. “I missed you. How are you feeling?”
“Meh.” He pats the cushion beside him. “I’ve had better days, but knowing you’re here makes it a lot easier. How was your flight?”
“Easy.” I plop down and lean on his shoulder. “I caught up on all the project documents, but there are still some gaps. I was hoping you could get me the files before I head to the site tomorrow.”
He smiles. “Diving in, I see. Look, we’re in the final stages of the buildout, it’s mostly about overseeing the finishing touches. For the Tacoma contract, we’re still in negotiations, waiting for their proposal.” He points to a binder on the table. “It’s all in there, but I’ve also sent you a link to the electronic documents. I’ve marked the key points you’ll need to address.”
“Thanks, Dad. I want to make sure I do you proud.” I grab the binder and flip through it.
“You will.” He squeezes my hand. “You’ve got this, Ivy. And remember, Cillian from McGloughlin Construction has everything under control. He’s been handling things exceptionally well, you won’t be on your own.”
I try to tamp down the jolt running through my body at the sound of his name. My stomach twists into knots. I knew going into this I’d have to work with him. Seeing him again will be…God. I dunno. I’m nervous.
No, I’m freaking the fuck out.
“Yeah. Thanks for the reminder, it helps.” I keep my emotions in check out of habit.
At some point, do I tell Mom and Dad the man who broke my heart was Cillian? I’ve been protecting him for all this time, but maybe the past is water under the bridge. Dad seems to like him, everything he’s told me over the years has been positive .
Ugh. This secret is the only remnant from our summer, it would be nice to have it out in the open.
The three of us eat dinner as a family for the first time in, gosh, nearly a decade. It’s nice. After dinner, my jet lag catches up with me, and I excuse myself to head to bed early.
My bedroom is exactly how I left it and I’m surprised at how comforting it feels. Once I’m snuggled under the expensive sheets and cushioned by the memory foam mattress, exhaustion quickly pulls me into a deep sleep.
The low-level panic begins the second my alarm goes off.
Cillian has no idea I’ll be meeting with him today. Dad didn’t tell him I was taking over.
“I didn’t want him to worry,” he said, unaware of the personal history between us.
In many ways I’m glad he doesn’t know. I’m still mortified by the last time I saw him—standing before him naked and crying, begging him to love me…cringeworthy.
Today, I’m approaching my role as a pure professional. Fully prepared to handle anything related to the Bright Shipping business. As I wound my life down in Italy, Dad and I spent many hours preparing for these responsibilities. I may not have pursued my MBA, but I do have a business degree and Dad trained me relentlessly for years before I left.
Besides, immersing myself in the world of art had an unexpected benefit. I was able to clear my mind. Have balance and focus. Painting and drawing will always be my favorite way to spend time, but I’m fine stepping in for as long as my dad needs me. In the meantime, it’s crucial Cillian sees me as capable and confident, not as the lovesick girl he once knew.
Starting with my appearance. Most of my clothes are in transit, but I find a tailored, navy-blue pantsuit in my closet. A little snug, the result of one too many pasta dinners, but it’ll do. I apply minimal makeup and, since it’s raining, I pull my hair back into a sleek ponytail. Professional and composed is the look I’m going for.
Every nerve ending is on high alert when I pull into the designated parking next to the newly erected structure. It’s a gorgeous building, even more impressive in real life than the renderings and photos. Despite the steady downpour, windows are being installed today and the construction site is buzzing with activity. Workers in hard hats hustle back and forth. Cranes hoist two-thousand-pound glass panels into place.
I spot Cillian almost immediately, standing under an umbrella by the lineup of office trailers, engrossed in conversation with one of the foremen. Wearing a fitted white McGloughlin Construction Henley with the sleeves rolled up to show off his muscular forearms, he’s only gotten more handsome. Dark jeans hug his legs in all the right places. Wow . He’s definitely put on muscle since I last saw him.
Though I try to tamp it down, my reaction is visceral. Powerful. My nipples tighten. My pussy clenches at the memory of his perfect cock.
I honestly don’t know what to do. Every plan to be professional feels out of reach—I want to run to him, jump in his arms, and tear his clothes off.
Because he’s your man.
Except…he’s not .
After a few calming breaths, I compose myself and walk toward him. I know the exact moment he sees me—his eyes lock on to mine and time seems to stand still as it did the first time I saw him. The noise of the construction fades into the background, leaving the two of us in this charged moment.
He visibly pales and a myriad of emotions pass across his face. Surprise. Confusion. Fear. Anguish.
Love .
“Hi, Cillian.” I shake off my stupid imaginary thoughts and manage to keep my voice steady, despite the storm of emotions whirling inside me .
“ Ivy? ” There’s a beat of silence, thick with tension. He looks around and then back at me. He shifts his weight from leg to leg. “I, uh, didn’t expect to see you here today.”
“I know.” I tack on a smile. “My dad needs a few weeks off for a medical procedure. I’m stepping in to help until he’s back on his feet.”
He give me a strange look as he absorbs the news. “I’m sorry to hear.”
“Thank you.” My voice catches slightly. “He’s undergoing chemotherapy.”
I didn’t mean to tell him, it’s just…he and I always had such easy conversations. Two minutes in and I’m confiding family secrets like we’re still a couple.
It’s important for me to remember how I felt the day he rejected me. When he told me, under no uncertain terms, he didn’t want me. As much as my heart yearns for Cillian, I can’t be vulnerable with him ever again.
Tamping down my emotions, I jut my chin out and look him in the eye.
Cillian’s expression softens. “I’m really sorry, Ivy. Pass on my good wishes. If there’s anything I can do…”
“Thank you, I appreciate it.” I clear my throat. “Actually, I could use a briefing on the current status of the project. I’m fairly caught up but there are still some gaps. ”
“Of course.” He, too, slips back into a professional demeanor. “Let’s get out of the rain. We can go over everything in the office.”
I follow him, my eyes lingering on his muscular ass and confident stride. Somehow, Cillian seems more grounded. More assured. A pang of longing permeates my belly. I wonder if I’m affecting him the way he still affects me.
Inside the trailer, Cillian spreads out a series of blueprints and permitting documents on the table, his focus entirely on the task at hand.
“We’re in the final stages.” He points to various sections of the plans. “The structural framework is complete after the windows go in. Next, we’ll begin the interior finishing. The electrical and plumbing systems are about eighty percent done, and we’ve scheduled the final inspections for November.”
I nod, taking notes on my e-tablet. “And the Tacoma project?”
“We’re in the negotiation phase for the contract,” he explains. “We’ve submitted our proposal, and we’re waiting for their response. I have a meeting with their representatives in a couple weeks to discuss the details.”
“Great.” I open my phone. “I’ll need to attend that meeting. I have a new number, could you text me the date?”
Cillian raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. Instead, he takes down my number, sends me the calendar invite and continues with the briefing, providing detailed updates on the project’s progress, challenges, and upcoming milestones. I’m impressed by his thoroughness and the clear passion he has for his work.
As we wrap up, I hear myself blurt out, “How have you been?”
Good God, I’m an idiot.
“I’m okay. Busy. And you?” He pauses, his hazel eyes meeting mine. “How was Florence?”
I didn’t realize he knew where I was. “Incredible. I learned so much and made lifelong friendships. But, being back here feels great. Especially now.”
We stare at each other. It’s like we’re suspended in time. I can practically feel the tether between our hearts going taut.
Finally, Cillian breaks another awkward silence. “I meant what I said. I’m really sorry about your dad. It’s tough when someone you love goes through cancer.”
“Thank you.” My voice is barely a whisper. “It means a lot to hear you say.”
He squeezes his eyes shut and sighs. “Ivy…”
“No, don’t .” I press my palm to my chest. “Not now.”
Despite the undeniable chemistry crackling between us, we haven’t spoken in three years. He could be married or in a relationship. Hell, he could have kids. Besides, I’ve moved on…
Liar .
I must stay focused. Professional. I have a job to do.
No matter how strong my feelings are, Cillian is my past.
He needs to stay there.