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That realization packed a punch.
But I’d changed.
If there was one thing the past year had shown me, it was that replacing Ivy would be like an insipid meal after feasting on a tantalizing and delicious one.
Maybe I was finally growing up.
If I were being totally honest with myself, Ivy was the only one I’d wanted since meeting her at my mother’s birthday a year ago. If it hadn’t been for my reckless past shadowing us, we would already be celebrating our one-year anniversary.
I rubbed my neck and called her.
Normally, in these uncomfortable situations, I liked to text. But this required a delicate touch. And I liked talking to Ivy.
She picked up straight away. My ego smiled despite my sudden tense jaw.
“Chase.”
“Ivy.”
“I’m glad you called. I thought we could try that new place that’s just opened in Soho. It’s got a performance—”
I cut in. “Listen, Ivy, I can’t make it. I’ve got an important business meeting tonight. I’ll make up for it later.”
“Later? You want to meet later tonight?” she asked.
For some reason, I thought of Ivy stripping down to her French bra and panties and performing eye-popping maneuvers down the pole I’d installed in my bedroom after Ivy spoke of taking pole dancing classes.
“Maybe not. My father’s handing out all kinds of demands. I have to work.”
“Okay.” Her voice sounded thin.
“There’s the family ball on Saturday. Mom’s birthday. It’s an annual event. You attended last year’s. Remember? That’s where we met.”
“How could I forget?”
“I’d like to introduce you to my parents.”
Silence followed.
“Are you there?” I asked.
“Excuse me?”
“I’d like you to meet my family. Officially.”
“Officially? Like as boyfriend and girlfriend?”
Was I really ready for this?
Or the real question should be: was I ready to be out on the street, singing for my supper? For someone as tone deaf as me, that guaranteed starvation.
“Yeah.” I hoped the slight waver in my voice didn’t give me away. “Are you there?”
“I’m here. I just had to get myself off the floor.”
I laughed.
“Sure. I’d love to go.”
