12. Ivy
12
IVY
M y head throbbed so hard, it woke me up. It was cold. I pulled the comforter up over my body higher and snuggled down under it and felt weight across my feet. For a second, I felt a little lost, like I didn't know where I was. My body was so achy and I felt weak, and for some reason, I was naked under the covers.
I blinked my eyes a few times and rubbed them with my fingertips until they adjusted to the light and the room came into focus. I was at James's house, which wasn’t a shock, but for some reason, I'd forgotten that I was staying here now and not the hotel. I looked at the nightstand, but my phone wasn't there. Neither was my bra where I normally left it.
Confusion had me sitting up in bed and feeling the moisture between my legs. Then I saw the expensive red dress draped over the foot of the bed and everything started to come back to me—the dress, dinner, the wine… Sex in the back seat of James's limo.
A smile played at my lips as I remembered flashes of the night. It wasn't a clear picture. It came in fuzzy and broken, but the ghost sensation of his stubble scraping across my chest while he sucked on my nipples made me shudder. I'd had sex with Mr. Carver and I enjoyed it.
Then a horrifying reality hit me and I felt dread wash over my body. It wasn't just sex. It was unprotected sex, which was why I was dripping between my legs and still tender. My God, what did I do?
I threw the blankets back and rubbed my face as I heaved out a hard sigh. I'd made some dumb choices in my day, but never one this stupid. Getting pregnant wasn't exactly on my to-do list, but if I was right, there was every chance I was in my fertile days and that thought brought me a bit of panic. I scrambled around the room butt naked looking for my purse and phone. I hadn't taken it with me. There was no point. I was with him, and he paid for everything.
I found my purse under my coat in the armchair in the corner of the room. My phone was on ten percent when I pulled it out of the blankets and opened my health tracker app that helped me log things like my water intake, sleep quality, and most importantly right now, my menstrual cycle. I flicked to it and pressed on the icon, and it only made the dread worse. I was definitely in my fertile time.
"Dammit," I grumbled and I closed my eyes tight. If I got to a pharmacy in the next eight hours, I could potentially get the morning after pill and this would be a non-issue, but I didn't want to freak out and let myself get panicked and carried away.
I plugged my phone in and left it on the nightstand and slunk off to the bathroom to shower. I tried to convince myself that the likelihood of getting pregnant after one night was slim, but my logical mind knew it wasn't impossible. Still, I had a lot riding on my time here with Mr. Carver planning and helping to host his parties. If I sat and obsessed about this too much, I wouldn't be able to manage my workload because I'd be emotionally stressed and worthless to anyone for anything.
The hot water felt amazing washing over my body. I scrubbed myself clean, washed my hair, and rinsed off. Then I let the water just run down over my body and enjoyed the steam fogging the air around me. I touched myself lightly and felt how tender I still was from sex. James must've been big to make me feel this way. I was by no means a virgin, but I felt tender, just like I had the night I lost my virginity.
I wished I hadn't drunk so much. Most of the night escaped me, though I remembered feeling very emotional about something. Though I fully believed the reason I'd had sex with him and not used self-control was due to the alcohol. Had I not drunk so much, I would probably remember things, but maybe the night wouldn't have gone the direction it had.
I swore I heard someone knock on the door, but I stayed under the flow of water. It was probably just Marna asking whether I was going to take breakfast in my room or in the kitchen. It wasn't out of the ordinary for her to do that. But I was enjoying the shower and I didn't want to get out. I wanted to stay here where it was warm and think of James’s hands on my body. Every little flash of memory that popped into my mind when I closed my eyes turned me on.
When I got out and dried off, I had to push away a few more thoughts that worried me. If I got pregnant now, it would really throw a wrench in my rebranding. Not only would I feel miserable and be in pain, so my workload would be reduced, but it would mean I had to take weeks off. How would I provide for myself then?
I twisted my hair up in a towel and peeked into my bedroom to make sure Marna wasn't setting up breakfast before I walked in. When I headed toward the bed to see if my phone was charging, I noticed my red suit folded and stacked on the mattress where I'd been lying and a note on my pillow with my name scrawled in messy cursive.
I glanced at the door and then turned back to the bed and realized someone had been in here while I was in the shower, and it didn’t appear to be Marna. She wasn't in the habit of leaving notes. Besides, I hadn't even thought of it until just now, but this suit was in James's bedroom, left sitting on the vanity in his bathroom when I put on the gown before he picked me up. My God, he just came into my room while I was in the shower.
I tiptoed over to the door and locked it and then walked back to the bed and sat down. I was freezing, my nipples hard enough to cut glass, but despite the shivering, I picked up the note and unfolded it, and my eyes scanned the slightly neater handwritten text.
Ms. Hart,
I brought your suit back, which was left in my room. I hope you don't mind the intrusion.
I also want to discuss with you the business proposition we spoke about last night. Would you be so kind as to allow my driver to bring you to my office this morning when you are dressed and ready? We could hash out some details of my investment into your firm and what the future might look like.
Yours,
James .
My mind got hung up on the words "investment into your firm" and I stared at them in disbelief. I had zero memory of anyone offering to invest in my firm, let alone James Carver. I was so drunk, this part had been blocked from my memory entirely, but as tears welled up in my eyes at the idea that he'd want to invest with me, I realized that must've been what I was so emotional about.
James wanted to invest in something that was nothing. Mike had kept my name, "Ever After Events", and it pissed me off. But it was pointless to keep a name like that, anyway. I wasn't just planning weddings now. James's idea to help me expand and rebrand meant I'd be planning other parties and events. The former name didn't stick.
And while I was a one-man crew right now, eventually, I'd have a name and an office. I'd hire people to work for me, other planners to do things when I got too busy. That was the dream, but it seemed so far into the future, why would James want to support that? There was nothing. I was literally homeless, living in his house until my jobs for him were done, and then what? I had no place to go, no money to fall back on, no office space. He was an idiot to invest in something that was nothing yet.
It made me feel nervous. Mike had believed in me so much that he took it upon himself to help me get Ever After Events up and running. He poured his own money into the firm and marketed the hell out of my few weddings I had planned. Then he built my portfolio, hired professional photographers. We formed our S-corp and the business took off, but since it was mostly in his name—I was just the talent—now that I left him, he kept it all. I had to start from scratch, including my client lists.
I set the letter down and felt conflicted. The last thing I wanted was for another man to step in and build up a huge business with me, then break my heart and nudge me out. True, I didn't have to give in to Mike. I could've fought him. But I didn't have the money or the means. He'd made sure of that. And right now, I didn't have any way to pass up Mr. Carver's offer to stay here and work for him, so I sort of felt like I was setting myself up for the same scenario.
I had to tell him no. This wasn't going to work. I had to fight to do this on my own. Then when I finally made it someplace, I would know I'd done it on my own hard work and merit, and no one could take it from me.
I dressed in my fanciest suit, which paled in comparison to anything in James's closet. I knew how out of place I'd feel, but he had invited me to discuss this and I had to show up to give him my answer. There was no sense in being embarrassed by who I was or how I dressed, not if I planned to reject his offer and do this on my own, anyway. I had to embrace everything that Ms. Ivy Hart was and embody it to my fullest.
When I walked into the offices of Carver Industries with its towering ceilings and expensive artwork, I felt a lump forming in my stomach. A polite receptionist pointed the way to the elevators and indicated that Mr. Carver was on the sixth floor.
The elevator carried me higher, and I expected to walk onto another floor with another receptionist, but instead I stepped off the elevator into what appeared more like a penthouse. There were windows on all sides, the elevator near the center of the room. The side of the room facing the elevator had a few tables and chairs, a large lounging area with leather sofas, a television, a coffee table, and what appeared to be a bar, with a mirrored and lit backdrop and bottles of expensive whiskey displayed on glass shelves.
"Mr. Carver?" I said as I stepped out and looked around. I turned the corner, and as I walked I saw more of the space that took up the entire sixth floor. A large mahogany desk sat all the way in the far corner of the room with a view of the bay out the windows that took my breath away. In the other corner were a small kitchenette and another table. And right behind the elevators was a huge conference table, at which James sat with another man.
Both of them stood and nodded at me as I came into view. James had a soft smile on his face, but the other man looked stern and very businesslike.
"Hello," I said softly.
"Welcome, Ms. Hart. Come, sit down." James gestured at the chair next to his, and I glanced at the other man nervously. I wasn't aware that anyone else would be here, but it made sense. I was just in awe of this whole experience. Even the floor cost more than my entire net worth.
"Ms. Hart, this is Mr. Bronwyn Sutter, my attorney. He's here to help us iron out the entire agreement and make sure you're covered." James sat down as I lowered myself nervously into the chair. He already had his lawyer drawing up a contract, and that made the knot in my gut tighten.
"Mr. Carver, I must say I'm surprised." I felt my cheeks heating up, and I winced at how cowardly I sounded.
"Surprised by this invitation? Or my office?" He chuckled, and the lawyer cracked a smile as he spun his legal notepad around and slid it across the table toward me. I glanced down at it, but his writing was messy. I could barely make out a sum of two million dollars, and that made my eyes want to pop out.
"Uh, everything," I breathed, trying to focus on the words to read them. Once again, my brain hurt. "What's this?" I asked, looking up at James with a bit of terror coursing through my body.
"We're making a list of our terms. I want you to add anything there you feel like you might want." He used a finger to tap on the notepad and then he smiled at me. "I've already had him list a few things, as you can see."
"I can't read this," I told him, feeling overwhelmed.
"Ms. Hart, I apologize. My handwriting is quite messy at times." The lawyer took his pad back and started reading. "Mr. Carver has offered the sum of two million for dispersal upon acceptance of his investment. He will provide business acumen, counseling, marketing coordination, and legal services as you get started for a period of two years. He asks nothing in return and gives you full decision-making power."
My eyes hurt. I rubbed them and blinked a few times and turned to James, feeling like I was going to cry. He was smiling so brightly, I felt bad even thinking about telling him no. This wasn't a five-thousand-dollar kick start. This was millions of dollars at my disposal from a man I'd only just met. This felt like a trap.
"I know what you're thinking, Ms. Hart, but I want to assure you that this isn't a trick. You came along at a time in my life when I thought I was going to fall apart, and you have already taught me a few things that have changed my life for the good." James splayed his palms on the table in front of him. "I want to help you the same way."
"I don't know what to say." Everything in me was screaming run away , but I stayed seated. Two million dollars was a lot of money to walk away from.
"You don't have to say anything. I am telling you this money and all of my help are yours, with no obligation. You don't even have to pay it back. I believe in your talents and services, and I fully believe you're going to go places. I want you to have the financial security to really explore this rebranding you're doing and let the entrepreneurial part of your heart blossom. Just say yes and tell me what terms or conditions you have."
I forced myself not to cry, though I really wanted to.
I spent the rest of that entire day going over details. We hashed out a loose contract to revisit in a few days. We looked at properties on realty websites both in and out of Green Bay and Lover's Bay, and we had lunch and a few cocktails later that afternoon to celebrate the collaboration. With James's lawyer assuring me that the offer really was as generous as it sounded, I felt confident signing on the dotted line, and at the end of the day, this was business, not personal.
And I almost forgot about the unprotected sex too. Until my head was on my pillow and I was turning in for the night. I decided it was a tomorrow problem as I drifted off to sleep feeling grateful for Mr. Carver and how much he believed in me.
Now if I could get the idea of fucking him again out of my head, we'd be good. Strangely, we were entirely comfortable all day, not one awkward moment. Maybe I just dreamed up the sex… but why did I wake up naked, then?