Page 78 of Mr. Romantic (Mister 2)

“Richard,” I warn in a stern voice.

“Well, he invited Ivy to interview for a position in California and—”

“You’re moving to California?” my mother exclaims, dramatic hand over heart in shock.

“Mom—”

“She didn't get the job,” Richard says.

“You’re wrong, Richard. I did get the job.”

He squints his eyes at me. “Nora said—”

“Nora doesn’t know.” I turn to my parents, who are sitting their matching plush chairs, facing me. “I told her I didn’t get the job. The one I was interviewing for. But I did get an offer for something else.”

Richard does not believe me, but I don’t care.

“Yep,” I say, pulling out my huge good-pastor’s-daughter smile. “I’m moving to California.”

Screw Richard. It’s not his story to tell. So I’m going to tell my own story.

“You’re going to work for Nolan Delaney?” my father says. “That awful boy who—”

“They were innocent, Dad. Everyone knows that.” Everyone does not know that, and my father is about to object when I continue. “And yes. I am. I’m going to gather all my stuff and move away. It’s about time. I need a change anyway.”

“How will you afford it, Ivy?” my mother asks.

I can’t afford it. I spent a lot of money on the flight home. Money I really don’t have after tanning out at the pool of our townhouse community all summer, hoping against hope that a job would come through. But I will do anything to start somewhere fresh right now.

I don’t know why I’m lying, but I just don’t want to have this conversation. Especially in front of Richard. “I don’t have all the details worked out, Mom. But I’m gonna go through with it. What’s for dinner?”

The change of subject works, because my mother jumps up saying something about mashing the potatoes and then we’ll eat.

I smile at Richard, who has a full-on scowl on his face now. His familiar cologne makes me wrinkle my nose.

“Well,” my father huffs. “This is quite a surprise, Ivy.”

“A good one though, Dad.”

“I don’t like that boy. There’s something bad about him.”

Yeah, I think. His sexual appetite. “That was ten years ago. He’s not that kid anymore.”

“So you met him?” The question comes from my dad, but I’m looking at Richard, daring him to contradict my lie about the job.

“Yes. He’s very nice, actually.” And when I say it out loud I realize it’s true. “He took me to dinner and I saw the resort. It’s nice, but he really needs a lot of help marketing it. And that’s where I come in. He hired two other men to run the place, but he asked me to be a private contractor for the marketing. So it’s not a permanent job. But I’ll be fine,” I interject before my father can comment about that. “It’s a great opportunity.”

This really isn’t a lie, I decide. Nolan did offer me a contract position. We just never had a chance to get back to business. I might still be able to remedy that if I put together a good proposal. We can forget all about the weekend and start fresh. Forget all about his insane offer to have a fantasy rape date with him. Forget all about his amazing house overlooking the racetrack.

“Well, princess, if you think it’s a good idea, I’ll support you. But I have to tell you that I was partially responsible for his expulsion. Are you sure you want to work for a man you have that connection with?”

“He’s probably using you, Ivy,” Richard says.

“For what?” I ask. But it’s a legitimate question. Why me? I’ve asked myself that so many times. And now that I’m back home, why do I want to go back?

“Revenge, I’d imagine,” Richard says.

“No,” I say. “And I’m not going to discuss it.” I tilt my chin up and smile. “My mind is made up.”