“A pleasure meeting you both. I was wondering, could I borrow Ivy for a bit?”
Her gaze, which had previously been on the children, swings up to me. “What?” she asks, eyes wide.
“Of course you can,” her sister, Val, answers.
Ivy turns on her sister. “Excuse me? You’d send me off with a stranger?”
“You’ll be fine.” She shrugs and grins, then turns to me. “Wehave dinner reservations at six; maybe have her back to the hotel by five?”
“Y’all stop talking about me like I’m not here.”
“Would you like to take a walk with me, Ivy?” I ask.
She shakes her head and smiles at me, because apparently that’s the only reaction I can elicit from her. I make it my goal to get at least one smilewithouta shaking head.
“Sure. Let’s walk.”
“I’ll buy my own ice cream,” Ivy insists as we stand in line inside an old-fashioned ice cream parlor. We’d walked to the far side of the park and continued onward into the streets where we found this place. I learned that she’s from the foothills of North Carolina. She owns a restaurant that recently burnt down, and she hates cockroaches. I still don’t understand howthatfact even came up.
“I insist. You owe me this honor,” I begin, and she raises her eyebrows. “Because I found Peter.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “Are you sure? Because I plan on getting a waffle cone. That’s extra.”
“I think I can swing that. You could even get a second scoop.”
“Wow. Maybe youareimpressive.” She pats my shoulderand steps to the counter.
She orders her raspberry vanilla waffle cone and I order my pistachio in a cup. We find a seat at an outdoor table.
Her hair calls to me, and I reach up to twirl a curl on my finger, but she bats me away.
“What are you doing?”
“Remember, I found Peter.”
“You already said that once and I’m afraid that’s all you get.” She shrugs. “You should have used it more wisely.”
She is so cute. I want to count her freckles. “Okay. But just so you know, you can touch my hair anytime.”
“Thank you for that kind offer. Your hat is blocking the way though, and if you took it off, you’d have hat hair, and I’m not going to touch hat hair. So I guess not.”
“What I’m hearing you say is I shouldn’t wear a hat next time I see you.” In my periphery, I see a group of women staring. I angle said hat down, although I’m not sure it helps. We were stopped three times in the park, and the teenage boy who made our ice cream stuttered and shook. Maybe it wasn’t in response to me, but for his sake, I hope it was.
“You think there should be a next time? I’m not sure how your girlfriend would feel about that.” She licks her cone and I have to avert my eyes.
“Ah. Well, you see … this can’t go any further than this table, but our relationship isn’t real. Our agents set it up. I like her very much; she’s become a close friend, but that’s it. She’s actually seeing someone she went to high school with. And she isn’t really my type.”
Ivy squints her eyes at me as if she were trying to use x-ray vision to see the truth. “I thought Grey Blankenship was everyone’s type.”
“I’m more interested in women who are not easily impressed. With wild curls and bright emerald eyes.” I take a bite of my ice cream.
She nods. “That’s oddly specific. Good luck with that search.”
“I have a good feeling about it.” I do. But I can’t help but think about our geographical differences. Since moving to Hollywood, I always assumed I would end up with someone who lived out that way. That would be simple, and if Ivy wasn’t so intriguing, I might simply tell her it was nice meeting her and go about my business. But there is something about her that tells me she might be worth whatever compromise or concession I’d have to make in order to keep her in my life. Or try to.
We finish our ice cream and continue walking and talking, ending up at her hotel. I don’t want to let her go, but it’s the end of the road for me for now.
“It’s been an absolute pleasure,” I say, hoping she sees how much I mean it. “Could I have your number?”
