Page 34 of The Temporary Bride

Once that’s done, I shove the phone in my pocket and shake myself. There’s still a lot of packing to get through, and I can’t stand here and wait around to hear back from Tristan. There’s an empty box waiting outside of the storage closet in my hallway.

The minutes tick by, and my phone remains conspicuously silent. The message to Tristan sits there unanswered as I keep working, and irritation ripples through me.

Fine, be that way, I think. I don’t need your response anyway.

I do, though. That’s the thing. I know I’m not going to be able to take my mind off this until Tristan replies.

I glance at my phone again, an unexpected sense of restlessness creeping in. This isn’t me. I don’t get antsy. I don’t crave company. But maybe today is different. Today of all days, I need a distraction from the impending mess of my life.

I lean against the kitchen counter, looking mournfully around at the boxes stacked in the breakfast nook as I peruse my phone’s contacts. I need some conversation to distract me, but I’m not sure who to call. I don’t have many friends, since most of my life has been devoted to my job and my family for years.

Somehow, I don’t think family is the way to go here. I can’t imagine Genevieve being all that understanding about my current crisis. My parents are the last people I want to talk to right now. None of them could provide me with a distraction, somewhere to defuse my restless energy.

I pause with my finger hovering over Ivy Langford’s name.

She gave me her number at the engagement party, insisting that I call her anytime. Tristan told me that the Langfords are an old money family, but the two times I’ve met her, she’s seemed very down-to-earth and sweet, and I could use a break from all the serious faces I’ve been around lately.

So I dial her number, and after a few rings, she picks up.

“Hey, Chloe! What’s up?” Ivy’s bright, lilting voice cuts through the gloom of my kitchen.

“Not too much. I just… need to get out of the house for a bit. You up for some lunch or something?” I suggest, hoping she’s free.

“Oh, yes! Absolutely. I just finished up at the hospital, actually, so the timing is perfect. Where do you want to meet?”

“The hospital?” I ask, momentarily distracted from my packing stress.

“Yeah, I volunteer at Greater Los Angeles Pediatric Hospital a few times a week. I read to the kids, do crafts with them, that kind of thing. I’ve been doing it for years.” She pauses for a second, then adds, “I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes when I was younger, and the doctors and nurses who helped me through it were just incredible. I kind of feel like I owe it to the medical profession to give back however I can.”

“That’s amazing.”

“Thanks.” She lets out a quiet breath, a smile in her voice. “It can be heartbreaking sometimes, but the highs outweigh the lows by a long shot. Today was a busy one, and I’m definitely ready for a bite. Where do you want to meet?”

We settle on a nearby cafe, and I can’t help but feel a twinge of excitement. A social outing, something I haven’t done in a while. A long while, maybe since I started at MediaSphere. Right now, it’s just what I need.

The cafe Ivy and I chose is within walking distance, so I head straight out without bothering to call my driver. When I arrive, the place is bustling, which also feels right. The chaos around me seems to put my own chaos into perspective. Maybe everyone’s life is this hectic, and we’re all just desperately trying to cling to lattes and blueberry muffins.

The aroma of coffee and the hum of conversation provide a comforting backdrop to the uneasy anticipation that lingers within me. I order a cold brew and settle at a small table in a corner, my back to the wall so that I can see the entire place. My good ear faces the window, so I can’t hear much of the murmuring voices that fill the air.

I almost don’t notice when Ivy arrives. She has to wave to get my attention, and I jump slightly and sit upright.

“Oh, sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you.” She winces, giving me a sympathetic grin as she takes the seat across from me.

“No worries,” I reply, attempting a smile. “I was just lost in my own thoughts.”

“Everything okay?”

“Just wedding stuff,” I confess, my fingers idly tracing the condensation on my cold brew.

“Ah, the joys of impending nuptials,” Ivy says with a dramatic sigh. “I can’t even imagine. Especially a splashy wedding like this.”

I chuckle, appreciating her attempt to lighten the mood. “Yeah, it’s a whole production. And sometimes, I feel like I’m rehearsing for a role I never auditioned for.”

Ivy laughs. “Well, if you ever need a break from the drama, I’m your girl. Or at least, I can be the distraction you never knew you needed.”

“Distraction sounds perfect right now,” I admit, and we dive into the menu, shifting the conversation to lighter topics. Ivy shares amusing anecdotes from her work, and I find myself genuinely enjoying her company.

As we munch on salads and sip our coffees, the conversation drifts toward the Thorne family. After all, Ivy is an expert in Thorne drama, and I’m a newcomer to the family. I need all the help I can get in catching up, so I seize the opportunity to learn more about Tristan and his enigmatic brothers.