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“Uh-huh. No beard. I hate them.”
I rubbed my hand over my spiky jaw. “I’ll have to remember to set my razor to naked.”
“No. I like the shadow. It’s sexy. But not all bushy.”
“What about a moustache. Handlebar? Or a goatee?” I asked.
“Mm… no. You’d look too much like a pimp from one those seventies cop shows we like to watch.”
“And here I was hoping to pick up a pair of brown bell-bottoms and matching turtleneck from a thrift store.”
“You, shopping at a thrift store?” She rolled her eyes.
“Well, there’s always a first. And if I’m to set up shop in Williamsburg, then it might pay to blend in.”
Ivy swept me into her contagious giggle, helping me forget the gravity of the situation.
“So tonight, dinner?” I asked.
“I can’t. I’m going to my pole dancing classes. Then the girls want to go to Rouge and bust some of our new moves.” Her bouncy eyebrows told me what to expect. Ivy in burlesque mode. And suddenly, heat charged down to my dick.
“It’s a girls’ big night out. It’s Jazz’s, one of the students, birthday.”
“By ‘big night,’ you mean shots?” My brow tightened.
“Of course.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Is that a good idea?” I stammered.
“Good idea?” She tipped her head, looking confused.
A customer entered, and Ivy lifted her hand. “I’ve got to work. We’ll talk later.”
She practically pushed me out of the shop.
What the hell?. She’s hitting the town? In her condition?
I couldn’t bring it up, though. I wanted Ivy to tell me. In many ways, I understood it was her right to do what she wanted. But it could have been my child. But what if it was Jack’s and she’d decided to abort it?
I’d had enough of beating my head against a wall trying to figure it out, so I decided to speak to Hunter. He hadn’t heard anything, though, and stranger still, Sara didn’t have a clue either. I asked her to keep it to herself, given that Ivy wouldn’t have appreciated me going behind her back.
It had been two days, and despite us spending time together, Ivy hadn’t said a word. So I decided to go to Mad Love, ask her out for lunch, and then confront her.
Narrowly avoiding a crash with a gaggle of suits, I steadied myself and entered Mad Love, where I found the new girl, Astrid.
“Hey. Is Ivy around?” I asked.
“No. She’s gone to a clinic.”
My heart hit my throat. “What?”
“Oh, I don’t think it’s that bad. Just a procedure, I think.”
“A procedure?”
Poor Astrid’s head jerked back at my overblown response.
“Is Summer here?” I asked, which sounded more like a demand.
