Chapter Twelve
“There is nothing better than a friend unless it is a friend with chocolate.”
Linda Grayson
Jack
“Bravo, Jack. Those pictures of you and Ivy kissing are gold. The buzz online is good. The studio execs are happy. For now. Just please, for the love, don’t give anyone the impression your relationship is some sort of publicity stunt,” Tori warned over the phone. “It’s not, is it?”
I exhaled, a small sigh of relief escaping as I paced Ivy’s bedroom floor. The last thing I needed was the studio breathing down my neck, especially because I knew Sienna wasn’t finished with me yet.
“Believe me, this is no stunt. I love Ivy.”
It felt good to say that out loud to someone.
If only I could tell Ivy. For now, I would take pleasure in remembering every second of our kiss on the ice.
The way Ivy had melted into me and not only kissed me back but seemed to enjoy it as much as I did.
Even though she was far from admitting it.
Ever since this afternoon, she kept saying things like:
“It was just for show, Jack.”
“I’m sorry, but I had to kiss you.”
“I only wanted to protect you.”
I let her say it. Let her convince herself. I even thanked her for it. But, if you asked me, the lady doth protest too much.
Her constant excuses only gave me hope. She wanted me as much as I wanted her. That kiss proved it.
And . . . she had mentioned that we needed to be more affectionate in front of her family.
She feared Sienna had caused them to doubt us, too.
I saw right through that. It was her excuse for wanting to be closer to me.
She could just admit it. But I would play her game for now and show her as much affection as she wanted. And enjoy every second of it.
“Wow. You’ve never admitted you love someone,” Tori said, astonished. “Does Ivy know?”
Maybe I’d been too hasty in admitting that out loud, but I was tired of pretending I wasn’t in love.
“Not yet. We’re taking it slow.”
Ivy was, at least. I was ready to go Mach 5.
“I’m happy for you, Jack. I’ve always been a fan of Ivy’s. She’s too good for you.” She couldn’t resist the jab.
“Agreed. Thanks for the overtime you’re putting in during the holidays.”
“Oh, don’t thank me. You’ll be getting a nice hefty bill for all this. You’re making all my Christmas dreams come true this year.”
I hoped both of our Christmas dreams would come true. “I’ll happily pay it if you can keep Ivy out of the spotlight as much as possible.”
This wasn’t easy on her, and for that, I felt awful.
Tori paused. “She realizes what comes from being in a relationship with you, right? Even if she decides to become a hermit, people will always talk about you and her. She’ll always be in your orbit. There’s no going back now.”
That thought took the wind out of my sails. Had I not thought this through carefully enough? Would Ivy come to resent this part of me? Of my life? The constant scrutiny? The cameras? The intrusions? Mr. Holiday?
“We’ll navigate this together.” I swallowed hard.
After all, we’d been navigating life together for the past seven years. I had to believe nothing would change that. Not Sienna or the press. Or even Ivy’s fear of what was on the other side of the friendship line. In fact, it would be better because we’d have each other to come home to every day.
“I hope so, for your sake. Ivy’s good for you.”
“She is,” I readily admitted.
“I’ll do what I can for you and her on my end. But please, don’t make any extra work for me or yourself. Play the game smart.” That was Tori’s favorite thing to say.
The thing was, this was anything but a game to me.
“Remember, control the narrative, no public slipups, no messy breakups if it comes to that, and play the long game,” Tori spouted off what she called the Bible According to Tori. “Sienna is playing the short game. Remember that and act appropriately.”
“I will,” I promised.
No way in hell was I going to let Sienna ruin what I had worked so hard to build. Or let her come between Ivy and me.
“Very good. Now, go have your family game night,” she laughed. “Please tell Ivy to take some pictures. This I have to see. Jack Holiday playing Pictionary.”
I wasn’t sure if that’s what we were playing. Regardless, it was giving me heartburn. All this holiday cheer and cozy family togetherness was a bit much to take, which was why I was hiding out in Ivy’s room.
My excuse was that I needed to talk to Tori and Xavier, my agent, to find out if he was the one who’d told Sienna where I would be. He’d adamantly denied it, but I wasn’t sure I believed him. I still considered firing him. But I would wait until after the holidays. I wasn’t heartless.
All those excuses for slipping away for a moment were true. But I’d also needed a few minutes to breathe.
“Goodbye, Tori.”
“Goodbye,” she sang.
I shoved my phone in my jeans and looked around Ivy’s room, hoping it would spark some idea of what to make her for Christmas.
That task loomed, hanging over me. It felt like something I couldn’t get wrong.
I wanted the gift to show Ivy that I fit into her world and that she was safe in mine. It seemed like an impossible endeavor.
A knock on the door interrupted my fruitless attempt to come up with the perfect gift for Ivy.
“Jack, can I come in?” Jaquelyn asked.
Curious, I walked over and opened the door, wondering what Ivy’s mom wanted. There was also some trepidation. Jaquelyn seemed determined to make me believe in the magic of Christmas. And maybe even the magic of mothers.
Jaquelyn, wearing her signature Santa hat, greeted me with a warm smile. “I hope I’m not interrupting, but I wanted to check on you.”
It caught me off guard a little. I wasn’t used to people who I didn’t pay, or who didn’t pay me, checking in on me—save Ivy.
“You did?” I questioned.
“I do.”
Jaquelyn walked right in without an invitation. She took a moment to look around the room, and her eyes landed on the neatly made bunk bed.
“I apologize again for the accommodations.”
“It’s no problem. Ivy and I fit well on the bottom together.”
I clenched my fists, frozen, unsure where to go from there.
That was probably not the right thing to say.
Ivy had told her sister we were waiting, and judging by all the strange looks her siblings and their spouses had given me throughout the day, Paige had spread that around.
I had a feeling some of them didn’t buy Ivy’s story.
“What I mean is—”
“I know what you mean.” Jaquelyn smiled.
See, not even Ivy’s mom was buying it.
I cleared my throat.
Jaquelyn patted my arm. “So, how are you? I can’t imagine these rumors have been easy on you.”
I paused. The way she said rumors made me feel uneasy. Maybe Ivy had been right when she’d said Sienna had made her family doubt. Which would be a shame, since it would mean she hadn’t just been looking for an excuse to be more affectionate. Had I read our kiss wrong? It had felt real to me.
But now Jaquelyn made me question it. I wondered if she believed the rumors, even just a little, and that was really why she wanted to check on me. Maybe that was why she’d been so cavalier moments ago about the sleeping arrangements.
“I love Ivy.”
There I went prematurely blurting again.
Hell, I hadn’t meant to say it out loud.
It was one thing to tell Tori, but altogether another thing to say it to Ivy’s mom.
What would Ivy make of it if her mom mentioned it?
Would she brush it off? Call it part of the show, as she loved to say?
Would she assume I loved her platonically?
Or . . . would she know the truth and pretend not to?
Regardless, I didn’t want Jaquelyn to believe I would ever use her daughter for some publicity stunt.
I was a lot of things—egotistical, selfish, even reckless sometimes—but I liked to think I had some honor.
Even if I was fake dating my best friend and the woman of my dreams, I wanted it to be real. That had to count for something.
“I know you do. That kiss at the ice rink said it all,” she teased.
I wasn’t in the least bit embarrassed by the kiss or even by how public it had been. It was even worth Bradford’s stern looks. That kiss had been the most incredible kiss of my life. Jaquelyn was right—it said it all. Everything I’d wanted to tell Ivy.
“But honestly, I’ve known that since the first time I met you,” Jaquelyn said fondly.
“You did?”
A sense of relief swept over me. Maybe she wouldn’t mention this conversation to Ivy just yet. If she’d kept this to herself for so long, why tell now?
Jaquelyn leaned against Ivy’s old desk, an air of amusement surrounding her. “It was obvious. I’m just glad you both decided to trust each other enough to admit it.”
“Yeah.” I ran a guilty hand through my hair.
“And that Ivy decided to let you be right about men and women being friends,” Jaquelyn added jovially.
I chuckled half-heartedly, feeling more like a jerk each second. “She couldn’t deny the truth forever.”
Or could she?
“Although . . .” Her tone turned more serious.
“I think this has been hard on both of you. It’s no wonder it took so long to decide to change your title.
I know everyone thinks friends-to-lovers is a simple transition, but it can be difficult.
You know, Bradford and I were friends long before we dated. ”
It seemed as if she’d been waiting for the perfect moment to say this.
“I didn’t know that.”
“Oh, yes. We were friends all through college. Of course, I’d always had a little crush on him.
” Her eyes lit up as she reminisced. “But I knew he thought I was zany.” She pointed to her reindeer sweater.
“Of course, I am. And I thought he was a little too serious. But there was just something about him. So, one night, I decided to kiss him. And he kissed me back,” she said, proud of herself.
Maybe Ivy could take lessons from her mom.
“But . . . as wonderful as it is falling for a friend, you realize that no matter how much you shared as friends, the intimacy of a romantic relationship begs for more vulnerability. And with you being famous . . .” She sighed.
“That adds a whole additional layer of vulnerability. A layer I don’t think Ivy was prepared for. ”
“For that I feel terrible,” I was quick to say.
But even as the words left me, I was still processing.
Still turning over what Jaquelyn had said about the transition between friends and lovers.
Is that why Ivy was so afraid? Why she wanted to protect us, as she’d said?
Did she worry about being vulnerable with me? Didn’t she know she was safe with me?
“Oh, I’m not blaming you in the least,” Jaquelyn tried to put me at ease.
I appreciated her kind words, but it was my fault. It was me who had pushed Ivy right into the damn spotlight. Or worse, into Sienna’s crosshairs.
“I know it’s difficult for both of you. Relationships are hard enough without it being a public affair. I just wanted you to know that if you need to talk about anything, I’m here for you.” Jaquelyn smiled and waited like she expected me to spill my guts.
I wasn’t a spill-my-guts kind of guy.
“Thank you,” was all I could think to say.
Jaquelyn’s shoulders rose and fell like she was disappointed, but her demeanor was still warm. “Well, just let me know if you need anything. I mean it. Anything at all. You can just think of me as a second mom.”
I never really had one to begin with.
“Thank you,” I murmured, looking anywhere but at her.
I had this feeling she would use her “mom powers” on me and get me to divulge my past or tell her the truth about the nature of my relationship with her daughter.
“Okay, then,” she sang. “Are you sure you don’t need anything?”
I intended to politely tell her no, but then the picture ornament of Ivy and me caught my eye. It gave me an idea about what I could make Ivy for Christmas. Our love story in pictures.
I pointed at the tree. “Do you have any more pictures of Ivy and me?”
I had several on my phone I could print out, too. No doubt Jaquelyn had a photo printer in her craft room.
Jaquelyn’s face lit up brighter than the lights on the Christmas tree, as if she knew I was going to need her help, and it would give her more opportunities to break down my defenses.
“I do,” she trilled.
“Do you think you could help me make a photo album for Ivy?”
I’d probably just broken her rules about not sharing who you pulled out of the hat. But judging by how she practically tackled me when she threw her arms around me, she didn’t care.
“I would love to.”
Reluctantly, I embraced her while letting out a heavy breath. I was stepping into deep waters. A place where I might drown in motherly love and Christmas cheer.
But Ivy was worth it.
All of it.