Every Little Thing
Page 43

Wanting a subject change I thought of someone else I hadn’t seen in a while. “How’s Ivy?” I asked after Iris and Ira’s daughter. Ivy had been my best friend growing up, but she’d had aspirations of becoming a screenwriter. She’d gotten into UCLA’s school of film and television, worked her way up from intern on productions to assistant manager, until she started to make it with her screenwriting. That’s how she met her fiancé, big-time director Oliver Frost. Up until they met, Ivy had kept in touch with me, and had visited Hartwell every summer. I hadn’t seen her in three years. I hadn’t heard from her in a year.
Ira scowled. “Who knows?”
“Ira,” Iris reprimanded him for his angry tone.
I was concerned. “What’s going on? Is Ivy okay?”
The table quieted as we waited for Iris to answer.
“We don’t know. Every time we call her to check in she gets off the phone as quickly as possible, giving us excuses about how busy she is.”
“Maybe she is,” Emery said.
“No.” Ira shook his head. “Ivy has always been busy but she never let that Hollywood stuff go to her head. She’s always had time for her mother and me. Something isn’t right.”
“Why don’t you go out and see her?” Cooper suggested.
“I want to.” Ira threw his wife a belligerent look.
Iris scowled. “Don’t look at me like that, Ira Thomas Green.” She turned to us to explain. “I have never been the kind of mother to mollycoddle or get in my daughter’s business when she hasn’t asked me to.”
Cooper frowned at her. “Well maybe she needs you to.”
“Exactly.” Ira raised his glass to him.
From the expression on Iris’s face I could tell she wanted to argue with them both, but was conflicted. As for me, I was worried about my old friend. “Iris . . . maybe you should.”
She held my gaze for a moment before she gave a reluctant nod. “We’ll try calling her again, try getting through. If not . . .” She looked at her husband. “We’ll go there to see her.”
In answer Ira simply reached for his wife’s hand.
I looked away from them, letting them have their moment with as much privacy as possible, and my gaze fell on Emery. She stared at the older couple with such longing wistfulness I felt an answering ache in my chest.
“Hey, Em.” I smiled at her. “The pork loin okay for you?”
She jerked her gaze away from Iris and Ira. “What? Oh. Yes. Thank you. Delicious.”
The wistfulness was wiped clear of her expression now, and I wondered curiously about it. Oh, how I wanted to solve the mystery of Emery Saunders.
Patience, Bailey. Patience.
“I invited Vaughn to dinner,” Jessica said. “But he was really preoccupied.”
I scowled at the thought of Vaughn joining us for dinner and my tone was sharper than I intended when I offered, “He’s busy with his hotel in New York; he doesn’t have time for dinner with us.”
“Well, yes, but he was concerned about you,” Jess said. “He called Cooper pretty early this morning to tell us to check in with you.”
My heart started to beat a little too hard, a little too fast, and a cold sweat prickled over my skin. I didn’t want to talk about Vaughn. I’d been enjoying dinner because it was taking my mind off the bastard.
“You know what would be fun?” I forced a grin. “Photo albums. Emery and Jess haven’t seen my photo albums. I have photos in there of Cooper, Cat, and me as kids. I’ll go get them.”
Iris seemed bemused. “But we’re eating.”
“We can do both.” I waved off her comment and fled the dining room.
I was just walking down the hall to my office when I heard the footsteps behind me. Several footsteps. Dear God.
I strode into my office and turned to find Jess, Dahlia, and Emery in the doorway. I gave them a teasing smile to cover my sudden uneasiness. “I don’t need a chaperone around my inn. Or chaperones.”
Jessica eyed me. “You seemed upset that I asked Vaughn to come tonight.”
“I’m not upset.” Oh, was I upset. “I just, I mean why would you do that?”
Jess made an uh . . . duh face. “Because he helped you out last night.”
Right. I kept trying to forget that part. “Well what did he say exactly?”
“He was . . .” She frowned. “He was very cold. Distant. More so than usual. Extra-Vaughn-like. So . . . what did you do?”
My first instinct was to drop my jaw, stamp my foot like a teenager, and demand to know why she’d assumed that I had done something to him. However, in all my trying to force thoughts of Vaughn into the background today, I knew I’d already decided not to tell anyone that Vaughn had rejected and mortified me. That would stay between him and me.
It wasn’t just a pride thing on my part. I just . . . as much as I didn’t want to save Vaughn Tremaine from himself (knowing I’d get flattened in the process), I also didn’t want Jessica and Cooper to stop being friends with him. In their own way, they were a balm to that infuriating man’s brooding soul. I didn’t want to take that from him just because he was a cowardly asshole who didn’t think I was good enough to be in a real relationship with him. Good enough to fuck but not good enough to—
Okay.
Still angry with him.
“Nothing.” I shrugged, proud of myself for being so nonchalant. I wasn’t exactly known for being able to mask my emotions. “I was shocked that he stopped by to help.”