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Reeve drops my hand, and hoists his duffel bag. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning any wild parties,” he says with that boyish grin I already know by heart. “Just a little rest and relaxation. Getting away from it all.”
“Sounds good,” I mutter numbly.
I was right. Reeve wasn’t interested inme, just the fantasy of Lola. Because face-to-face with me now, there’s not a flicker of that lustful attraction in his eyes.
“Hey, if you know the town so well, maybe I can pick your brain for some fun things to do around here?” Reeve suggests.
Like crashing a masquerade party. Breaking into the Atheneum. Making me come my brains out under the stars.
“Uh, sure,” I jerk a nod, feeling nauseous. “Fine. Anytime.”
“I won’t keep you,” Reeve says, already backing towards the house. “See you around, neighbor!”
* * *
“It wasmortifying!”I wail later that evening, splashing more wine into my glass. I’m standing at the island in Mary Alice’s bright, cheerful kitchen, the sound of Bluey faintly audible from the TV in the other room. “I had the most memorable, transcendent sexual encounter of my life with this guy, and now he’s asking me for local tips like I’m freakingYelp!?”
“Oh God, I can’t imagine,” Mary-Alice laughs along, sympathetic. “You should have said his tongue comes highly recommended. Five stars.”
I splutter a laugh into my glass. “Would absolutely recommend. It’s just a shame the feeling isn’t mutual.”
“You don’t know that,” Mary-Alice urges, upbeat. “Here, stir this sauce.”
I bring my wine over to the stove and take her place over the sauté pan as she grabs a box of pasta from the pantry, dumping it into the salted water bubbling away in a big stainless-steel pot. She called to say they’d all officially recovered from their food poisoning and were starving, so I stopped by the bakery for a huge loaf of garlic bread and came over for spaghetti night.
“What’s there to know?” I sigh, still stung with the rejection of Reeve’s blank, friendly smile. “Clearly, I can’t get a guy to look my way unless I’ve got my breasts pushed up to my chin, and I’m wearing three-inch heels. And, oh yeah, pretending to be a complete stranger.”
Mary-Alice shakes her head. “Lola wasn’t a character, she was you,” she insists.
I give her a look.
“She was! Just with the volume turned up. Way up,” she adds. “Aren’t I always telling you not to play so nice taking care of everyone, and be selfish for a change? Your whole Lola alter ego is proof that selfish, sassy Ivy is irresistible to men.”
I try to muster a smile. I know Mary-Alice is looking on the bright side here, but she wasn’t the one getting the brush-off from the most handsome, interesting man I’ve met in … years.
“Well, either way, bespectacled, beanie-wearing Ivy isn’t setting any pulses racing,” I say, waving at my casual look. “I swear, he looked at me like … like I was his eccentric Aunt Carol.”
Mary-Alice pauses. “I bet it’s just the context thing,” she muses. “It’s weird to see someone in a place you’re not expecting to see them. Like when you notice a hot older guy in swim shorts in line at the snack bar at the community pool, and then he turns around and you suddenly realize he’s your father-in-law.”
“Wait, what?”
“Nothing!” she says brightly. “Forget it. The point is, this unexpected reunion is exactly what you need! A hot Hollywood fling, right next door. You know he was voted hottest new director, and I’m not just talking about his cinematic talents,” she adds with a gleam in her eyes, stirring the pasta.
I grin. “I can’t believe you googled him already.”
“Of course I googled him!” Mary-Alice exclaims. “Reed Donavan, the new Hollywood hunk in town. I loved his movie with that actor, Jackson Kane. And now he’s your neighbor for the next few weeks? It’s perfect. You can order him to your door like takeout. Eat out. Is that an app already?” she asks. “That should be an app. I’m going to write that down.”
“I’m pretty sure that counts as solicitation,” I say, but I’m laughing, which was the point. Mary-Alice is my best friend for a reason. “But I don’t think anybody’s going to be eating anyone out in the immediate future. Or in. Clearly, the real me is not his type.” I refill my wineglass. “You’ll notice that’s becoming sort of a theme in my life.”
Mary Alice winces. “Did you talk to Jake?”
“Absolutely not. I used all my great wisdom and maturity to … run in the opposite direction,” I admit.
She gives me a sympathetic smile. “Bastard. If it’s any consolation, he must be all out of ideas for his show if he’s really here on some wild goose chase to find Earl’s gold.”
“A little consolation,” I admit. “A teeny-tiny amount.”
“He’s got some nerve showing up here again.” Mary-Alice scowls. “Everyone knows you were always the brains of that operation.”
