Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Ivy
"Ivy, quick! The third batch of cinnamon rolls and oatmeal cookies is almost gone—those football guys are like a pack of wolves!"
Penny wore a ridiculous sun hat, frantically bagging orders while shouting at me as I pulled fresh pastries from the warming box. Sweat beaded her forehead, but her eyes sparkled with excitement.
"Coming!" I wiped my brow and set a tray of still-warm, butter-scented cookies in the most visible spot on the counter.
This was the biggest order we'd gotten yet—our own independent "Oats & Flowers" booth right in the center of the carnival's lawn market.
This wasn't just about the money. It was about getting our name out there, drawing in steady customers.
Perfect, Ivy!
The cookies vanished the second I set them down.
"Oh my God, these are literally the best oatmeal cookies I've ever had!" A ponytailed student gushed.
"Thanks!" I handed her one of our shop cards. "Show this next time you come in and get twelve percent off everything."
"Thank you! You're like an angel." She blew me an exaggerated kiss and ran off to tell her friends.
Watching these students' bright faces, I felt something I hadn't felt in so long—solid ground beneath my feet.
This money, earned with sweat, actually meant something.
But the joy didn't last.
"Who's in charge here?"
A dumpy middle-aged man stomped over, face sour. His badge read School Facilities Management. He looked us up and down with contempt.
I wiped my hands and stepped forward. "I am. Is there a problem?"
"Your booth's over the limit." He smirked, jabbing a fat finger at our counter. "Fire code. You're taking up more space than your contract allows. You want to stay till closing, you pay an extra five hundred for 'space overage fees.'"
"That's bullshit." Penny exploded, charging over. "We signed the contract last week. Your volunteers said this size was fine—and that hot dog stand next to us is way bigger. Why aren't you hassling them?"
The man's face darkened. He sneered.
"Well, you're not them, are you? Don't want to pay? Pack up and leave. Got a dozen vendors waiting to take your spot. Don't waste everyone's time."
I stepped in front of Penny and offered him a box of pastries and lemon tea. "Sir, why don't you rest at our booth for a minute? We can talk this through."
He snorted and took a sip of the tea. "Look, you two girls got it rough, but rules are rules—"
Students around us started whispering. My heart sank.
Five hundred dollars wasn't pocket change—it would eat a third of today's profit. But if we left now, all the ingredients we'd prepped would go to waste.
He was taking advantage. Two young women, easy targets, squeezed at the busiest moment.
Maybe I should push back harder. We were following the rules.
I took a breath, ready to argue, when the noisy lawn suddenly went quiet.
I turned toward the hushed exclamations.
Down the tree-lined path, a group of suited middle-aged people—looked like school board members—walked our way, surrounding one tall, commanding man.
That man...
Was that Damian?
But he wasn't wearing his usual sharp black suit. Today, he had on a simple knit sweater, making him stand out even more against the formal crowd.
Still, that cold, hard presence drew every eye.
The facilities manager's entire demeanor shifted the second he recognized who was coming. His fleshy face contorted into something close to fawning.
He forgot all about us and rushed through the crowd.
"Mr. Wentworth! Didn't expect you'd personally inspect the carnival your foundation sponsored... You see, this year's logistics planning..."
Damian didn't even glance at him.
Through the crowd, his eyes found mine.
"Damn it, what's he doing here?" Penny muttered.
I shook my head. "Maybe it's just business."
Stay calm, Ivy. His work has nothing to do with me.
As long as he—oh no, was he coming over?
Damian held up a hand to pause his entourage, then walked straight to our shabby little booth.
"Ivy," he said, hands politely on the counter, voice gentle like he was afraid to disturb me. "Good afternoon. Do you... need help?"
Students whispered. "He's so hot!"
"He knows the owner?"
Before I could respond, Damian started working the booth.
The facilities manager stood frozen. He looked at Damian, then at me, wiping cold sweat from his temples.
"Miss, I didn't realize you knew Mr. Wentworth! My apologies, total misunderstanding... Should I send some volunteers to expand your booth? If you need more space, the whole lawn section next to you is yours..."
"We wouldn't dare," Penny sneered. "We can't afford those 'overage fees.'"
"'Overage fees'?" Damian frowned, his gaze ice-cold on the man. "Wentworth Foundation donates tens of millions annually for campus operations. Not so you can shake down independent vendors with fake charges at a carnival. Who's your supervisor?"
The man's face went white. He bowed repeatedly and fled.
"You—" I finally processed what just happened.
"I had a meeting nearby. Saw you." Damian smiled, already packing pastries for the students crowding in.
I didn't have time to deal with him—the cookies were almost gone.
"Damian, you—" Penny started.
"Hi! Six cookies, please!"
"I want ten!"
More students swarmed us. Some stared at Damian curiously.
I heard excited chatter.
"That's our school's biggest donor?"
"Quick, buy more!"
Penny bit her lip but said nothing, just packed bags efficiently.
I swear, busiest day since we opened. Damian's presence turned good business into a frenzy.
"Sorry for the disruption." After the rush died down, we collapsed in our chairs. Damian suddenly spoke to Penny.
Penny blinked and rolled her eyes. "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."
"Penny." I tried to stop her.
Whatever else he'd done, today Damian really helped. I never expected him—used to high-end malls—to spend hours under the blazing sun at this shabby booth, patiently packing pastries.
If his help before could've been a whim, today he'd set aside all his Wentworth pride. Something in my chest loosened.
"You're right. The person I owe the biggest apology to is Ivy."
I couldn't believe my ears. Damian didn't get angry at Penny's jab—he actually agreed?
"Ivy, I really—"
"Damian," I cut him off. I wasn't discussing this in public. "Thanks for your help today. Have some lemon water."
He stared at the cup I handed him, took it almost reverently. "Thank you. If you ever need anything, just ask—if you're willing."
The careful hope in his expression made it impossible to refuse. "Okay."
That one word seemed to energize him. He drained the cup, then moved to the supply boxes, hauling heavy crates of drinks to the counter and breaking down cardboard neatly.
Penny glared daggers at his back, then elbowed me hard, voice low and warning.
"Ivy, don't go soft just because he helped a little today!"
"I know. Don't worry." I avoided her eyes and got up to finish organizing.
I was grateful for Damian's help. But that's all it was—gratitude.
I took a deep breath, ignored the hot, familiar scent of him, and forced my attention back to the booth.
By evening, we'd sold everything. Students followed our Instagram, leaving glowing reviews in the comments.
"Amazing! Ivy, we made almost double what we budgeted!"
Exhausted from the day, we still rushed to tally the numbers once we cleaned up.
I looked at Penny's sunburned face and handed her a cool towel. "Thank you, Penny."
"Don't mention it." She wiped her face, then sighed. "Still, I have to admit—today was different because that guy showed up."
I pressed my lips together. "I thought you hated him."
She was quiet for a long time, then muttered something complicated.
"I do hate that arrogant asshole... but Ivy, I can't deny it. He seems different? The way he looked at you—God, it freaked me out. He really seems... changed."
I stopped what I was doing. "How so?"
"I don't know, the whole vibe?" Penny shrugged. "I went off on him, and he didn't even flinch. He apologized to me. Ivy, you know how shocked I was? When he looked at you, there was no edge at all—but that doesn't mean I think you should forgive him!"
Penny's indignant expression made me laugh. "I know. Honestly, Penny, I have been wavering these past few days."
"No!"
"Listen. Just wavering. That's all." I took a breath, pushing down the sticky ache in my chest. "Damian has changed. He's willing to give up a lot to win me back. But if I go back to him just because he's been sweet for two weeks, how is that any different from betraying the Ivy I used to be?"
"I'll admit it—I do love him. But I want to love myself more right now. And what if this is just another one of his phases?"
Penny came over and gripped my cold hand under the blanket. "Ivy, whatever you decide, I'm with you. But promise me—protect yourself."
"I will." I touched my stomach. I could let Damian get close. But I wouldn't trust him easily again.