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“And what are you gonna do once you show up? Or is this treading onto the territory of burying Vladimir Putin’s body?”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Will you do it?”
Do I want to do this? No. Absolutely not.
This is the last thing I wanna do today.
Martin says that Ian doesn’t love Ava. But I’m pretty sure he does. Or at least he did. Am I really prepared to stand by while the man I’m falling in love with reunites with his ex?
No. No, I do not.
I can think of about five thousand things I would rather do, including rubbing lotion on my body in a pit.
But, if Martin is right, and Ava only wants Ian back for his money and his influence, am I really prepared to let her just have him?
Even if he doesn’t care about me, even if he only sees me as a friend and nothing more, shouldn’t I try to protect him from her?
That’s what a friend would do, right?
“Okay. I’ll go down to the house. I’ll be there and stay there until you show up.”
“Thank you. And I’ll make sure there’s a bonus –”
“I swear to God, Martin, if you offer to pay me for this, I will buy the biggest zucchini I can find and shove it up your ass. And I won’t even go to the trouble to make sure it’s organic. It’ll be conventionally grown, with all kinds of pesticides on it.”
“Well, that’s a hell of an image.”
“I’m not doing this for you. And I’m not doing it for the money. I’m doing it because I care about Ian.”
“Yeah. Okay.” There’s a bit of silence, and a note of something in his voice that I’m afraid might be awareness.
Fuck. Did I just admit to Ian’s best friend that I’m in love with him?
“He’s my friend too, and I don’t wanna see him hurt by her anymore than you do.” Hopefully, I emphasized friend enough to convince him.
“Shit!” I interrupt as a gleaming white SUV glides past the window heading towards the main house
“Stop being so dramatic. I’m not asking you to do anything illegal.”
“No. She just arrived. I’ll call you back.”
I could debate it with myself as long as Ava showing up was hypothetical, but the second I see that SUV—the second I know Ava is here on his property about to go talk to Ian—I know the truth. I don’t care whether he still loves her. I don’t care if he wants to talk to her. Martin is right: she’s bad news. She’s bad for Ian. And there’s no way I’m going to let her get her hooks into him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ian
I do not know what to do when Savannah leaves me abruptly standing in the kitchen and heads back up the hill to the cottage.
I know what I want to do. I want to go after her and bring her home. Every instinct I have screams at me to do so. I ignore those instincts, because so far today, following my instincts has only made things worse.
I call Martin, but the call rolls immediately to voicemail. Right. He said he was in Dallas meeting with a client this weekend.
I try searching for advice online, but I don’t have to tell you how quickly that gets dark. After five minutes down that Internet rabbit hole, I close the window, clear my browser history, and make a sizable donation to a nonprofit focused on date-rape prevention.
Out of options, I call my mom.
She babbles for a good ten minutes about the volunteer work she’s been doing at the local library before I interrupt her and tell her I need advice about women.
