8. Ivy
8
IVY
A nger radiated off me in what I was certain were visible waves, the way heat wafts upward off hot concrete in the summer. I was livid. My phone was pressed to my ear in a grip so tight I thought I'd bend the thing in half.
"No, Mike. You don't get everything. I need that van. This is ridiculous. How am I supposed to get everything organized and transported across town without a vehicle? It's my name on that lease too. You can't do this."
The delivery van Mike and I purchased as our primary vehicle was actually owned by the company, half of which was mine. When we bought it, he couldn't qualify for it on his own, so I had to co-sign and I'd done that with the assumption that we'd end up being married and have two-point-three children, a dog, and a white picket fence around our yard. He clearly didn't agree with that dream.
"I don't know what to tell you, Ivy. The van literally has 'Ever After Events' written right on the side of it. It's mine because you left me. I didn't leave you." I was so angry I could scream at him, and I was raising my voice but not to that level yet.
"I chose that name. That business is half mine and you know it. I am coming to get the van. I need it today." I huffed and felt tears welling up in my eyes.
Why did I always have to cry? Why, when I got angry, were tears my go-to response? I couldn't just be a normal person and shout at someone to give them a piece of my mind. I had to break down like a fucking baby and bawl.
"I'm sorry, but the van is in use. Jess has it out on deliveries all day, and when this whole thing is sorted, I'm petitioning the court to have your name removed from the lease and the registration. You can't just walk out on our company and think you get to take half. If you want your half, you should've stayed."
I scream-growled and stomped my foot in rage, but I knew it would do no good. Mike had never been the sort of person to be reasoned with. He knew what he wanted and he took it, and when I finally got up the nerve to walk out, he took that as my cue that I wasn't interested in my company either. It was my blood, sweat, and tears. He just ran the back end. I did the hard work. Now none of it was mine, not even the name.
"Fine… You're right. I didn't want you, and I don't want your stupid company, or your name, or the van either. Have it." The first tear streaked down my cheek, and I blinked a few more back, but I knew I'd lost. There wasn't any point in fighting him when he was being like this. I learned that a long time ago. Mike always got what he wanted when he wanted it.
"I'm glad you see it my way. Have a good day, Ivy." Mike hung up with his smug, asshole tone, and I threw my phone across the room. It landed on the pillows and bounced back onto the mattress. I hadn't made the bed, and it slid under the blanket where I couldn't see it as I covered my face with my hands.
It was just like him to leave me stranded. I had to pick up the centerpieces and floral arrangements for Mr. Carver's thanksgiving party this afternoon. We were just a few days out and the shop I chose didn't do deliveries. It was the only place that could get me the right shades, the ones Kevin insisted would be hard to source, but I went with it. Now I was regretting that choice and wishing I'd have listened to Kevin, who was usually right.
"Everything okay?" I heard, and I turned around to see James standing in my bedroom doorway. I felt a bit embarrassed that the place was a bit disorganized and messy. I didn't let Marna come in here, mostly because I didn't like the idea of making someone else clean up after me when I was quite capable of it myself. I cringed and sighed as I wiped tears off my cheeks.
"Uh, just had an argument with Mike." I sniffled, and James stepped forward and handed me his monogrammed handkerchief. It was so pretty with royal blue thread embroidered into the white cotton. I didn't want to mess it up. I tried to hand it back, but he pushed it toward me again. So I wiped my eyes and blew my nose on it.
"Are you okay?" he asked again, and this time, I felt like he meant it. Like he wanted to make sure I was doing alright emotionally.
"I think I'm okay. I'm just left with a tricky situation." My shoulders sagged, and I backed up to the bed and sat down. It was so embarrassing, yet again, that I was having to ask someone to help me. This wasn't James's problem, though the reason I needed the van was for his party. I could probably rent a van with the money he paid me, but I really didn't want to dip into the budget for that considering in February when this was all said and done, I needed money to find a place to rent.
"Well, I just happen to be excellent at ironing out tricky situations." He smiled and stepped farther into the room. "What is the issue?" James folded his hands and let them hang in front of him, and I sighed and told him about the argument and the problem with the flowers and centerpieces. Even his largest limo wouldn't be enough. I didn't know how to make it happen without a van, and I wasn't asking him to rent one for me.
James turned and held out his elbow toward me, and I looked up at him confused. "Come," he said, and I stood and let my fingers curl around his bicep.
He led me out the front door toward his limo, and I thought of my phone lying on my bed, which made me panic for a minute. But the only person I'd miss hearing from if they called would be my mother or my sister. I was upset with Kevin for ditching me, and Mike could go to hell. Anyone else could leave a message.
James had his driver take us to the flower shop. We talked about the party and who would all be there. Tomorrow's dinner was being catered by Renard's out of Green Bay—so pricey, but it was what he wanted. They would be at the house to set up later this evening and get things rolling. I had to coordinate lighting and tables and music. This was the last thing I needed, but James’s willingness to help me made me feel more confident.
"Here we are," he said as the limo came to a stop. He climbed out first and offered me his hand. As we strolled into the store, people's heads turned. He wasn't exactly famous, but the two-thousand-dollar suit he wore spoke volumes. A woman standing behind the counter smiled and made her way over toward us with a shuffle-step, and I figured she thought she was going to make a huge sale today. She was, but she already knew about my order.
"Hi there, how can I help you?" Her hand shot out toward James's and she ignored me completely. I assumed it was because he was dressed to the nines, closer to her age than mine, and very good-looking. She probably thought I was his daughter.
"Well, Ms. …?" James waited, and the woman filled in the blanks.
"Mrs. Harper," she said with a smile and a few swipes of her eyelashes. Gross.
"Mrs. Harper, this is Ms. Ivy Hart. She's planning a party for me and she placed an order with you a few days ago for some floral arrangements and such. We'd like to see if you can deliver them." James had such a commanding presence, the woman nearly wilted. She looked faint.
"Well, Mr. Carver, I'm sure you understand that we don't have a van for deliveries and?—"
"How much?" he asked, and I had to hide a grin behind my hand. She'd made an educated guess about this being Mr. Carver after I'd told her for whom I was ordering the arrangements. Now she was seeing exactly why that name carried power. She had fought me tooth and nail about getting them done on time to begin with.
Mrs. Harper blanched and shook her head apologetically. "I'm sure you understand?—"
"How much?" he repeated, more firmly. And she sucked in a breath and looked around.
"Sir, we don't have a van." Her eyebrows rose and she looked as if she might start to cry at any moment.
"Go right now, research whatever van it is you want, and come back and tell me how much to make the delivery happen before eight a.m. tomorrow morning, and I'll have the funds transferred." He pointed at the counter, and this time, it was his eyebrows that rose in a very dominant and expectant expression.
"Well, sir… I… well…" She huffed and sighed and glanced at me before turning around and walking to the counter.
When she vanished into a back office, James turned to me and smirked. "Money talks," he said, scrunching his nose.
"It's gonna cost you eighty grand to have a thousand dollars’ worth of floral arrangements and cornucopias delivered." I laughed, and he shrugged.
"Totally worth it to see the look on her face." His eyebrows wagged, and he reached to pick up a flower from a nearby vase. It was a single mum, and it was beautiful. He handed it to me, and I, like an idiot, dropped it. My hands were shaking. He was being so sweet.
"God, I'm so sorry," I blurted out as I bent to retrieve it, but he bent at the same time and our heads smacked together hard.
I saw stars for a second as I righted myself and leaned on a display table to keep my balance. James picked up the flower and stepped closer to me so that I was cocooned in his cologne. I'd have sworn it made me drunk on him, but that was probably the knock to the head.
"I'm so sorry," I said again, and he smiled.
His hand rose up to my face, cupping my cheek. He brushed his thumb over what I could only assume was a red spot on my forehead, and then his eyes dropped to mine. "Not a mark…" he whispered, then his eyes dropped to my lips.
They lingered there, watching as I bit my lip. His thumb pressed against it, pulling it out from between my teeth. Then he brushed it over my bottom lip a few times as he said, "You know, you're extremely beautiful when you smile."
"I…" I started to say, feeling consumed with him. He was so close, his eyes bouncing between my eyes and my lips, and I swore he was leaning in.
Then the bell over the door behind him chimed and I stepped back as I heard Kevin's voice. "Have no fear, Kevin is here!" he sang out, and I looked away as James's hand left my face. "Mike is a douche, but I got the van. Jess didn't need it…" He glanced at James, then at me, then back to James. "I have the van."
"Um, yes. Thank you, Kevin." I knew he knew what was happening based on the look on his face, and I knew I'd have to answer for that. I just hoped he had tact.
"Thank you, Kevin," James said, extending his hand. Kevin shook it but narrowed his eyes at us both. "Ivy, I guess you're all set here. I'll see you this evening," he said, and he walked out of the store. I watched him until he walked out of my line of sight, and then I turned to Kevin, ready to hear his lecture.
James Freaking Carver almost kissed me. Oh, my God. What was happening?