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Ivy laughs. “I’m driving on some harebrained road trip at dawn following a clue written in invisible ink!” she protests. “How much more romantic and adventurous do you want me to get?”
Enough to pull the car over and kiss me senseless right now.
I clear my throat. “How would you spend it?” I ask. “When we find it. I mean, that gold has to be worth a fortune.”
“Ifwe find it,” Ivy corrects me, smiling, “And I haven’t thought about it.”
“Bullshit.”
Ivy gives an airy shrug. “The historical significance of the find is what matters to me.”
“Nope, that won’t work with me,” I laugh. Because the crazy thing is, I know this woman. I’ve had a glimpse of how her mind works. She can’t fool me now. “You’ve already calculated the value of the gold in today’s money,” I tell her, “You know exactly what it’s worth, and I’m guessing you’ve made a dozen lists of how you’d spend it – after stashing a sensible amount away for retirement, of course,” I add, because after all, this is Ivy.
She glances over, looking surprised. “That’s not … I haven’t … okay, maybe I’ve given it a brief, fleeting thought,” she finally admits.
I laugh. “I knew it.”
“You go first,” she says. “How would you spend it?IfI was generous enough to give you a cut.”
I grin. “I don’t know … There’s nothing I really need right now.”
Ivy arches an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, I forgot that you’re rich and famous already.”
“I’m not!” I protest. Then I pause, thinking of the zeros at the end of my fee for my last movie. “Okay, I’m not famous, anyway,” I admit. “Do I like being able to pay my rent without splitting it over three different credit cards? Sure. But the money was never the point for me. Nobody tries to make it as a director in Hollywood for the cash,” I add wryly, remembering the years I worked three different day jobs while I hustled to get funding for that first shoestring movie of mine. “My buddy Jackson and I used to take cater-waiter jobs, just so we could sneak home leftovers and eat like kings for the week on shrimp puffs and sushi tacos.”
“Jackson Kane, the actor?” Ivy asks.
I nod. “We go way back. He’s up on Cape Cod now, wedding planning with his childhood sweetheart.”
“That’s cute.”
“What’s cute is he had me move our entire production to her hometown, just so he could win her back,” I shake my head. “Now, he must have passed on a dozen big movie roles just so he can spend more time with her. Idiot,” I add affectionately.
I’m happy for my old friend, of course I am, but I have to admit, I’ve wondered about Jackson putting his career in the slow-lane this year, after we worked so hard to get our breaks. I’ve been hustling my ass off to make sure this glimpse of success doesn’t turn out to just be a flash in the pan for me, but Jackson’s been turning down any job that would take him away from Tessa for too long. I’ve wondered, would he regret that choice?
Now, I get it.
Fuck, do I get it.
“Enough ducking the question,” I tell Ivy, turning back to her. “Gold. Riches. Unthinkable wealth. Go on, spill.”
She slowly smiles. “Well … I guess I’d donate a ton of money to charity, and the museum,” she starts. “The new town budget is coming out in a couple of weeks, and it’s pretty much a given we’re going to get squeezed. A shiny gold bar or two would go a long way toward making sure we don’t have to close.”
“Noble,” I nod. I wouldn’t have expected anything less from her. “But no fun at all.”
“You asked!” she protests, laughing.
“But let’s say there’s more money than the museum could ever spend,” I urge her, settling back in the passenger seat. “If you were going to think big, go crazy. Do something just for you, instead of taking care of everyone else.”
Ivy sighs reluctantly, like even talking about putting herself first makes her uncomfortable. “I guess … I’d like to travel,” she answers finally. “But in style. Jake and I went all over for the show,” she adds, “But we were on a pretty tight budget, so it was Hilton Garden Inns all the way.”
“Got to love a complimentary breakfast buffet,” I tease.
“Who doesn’t?”
“But now you want luxury and glamor?” I ask.
She looks embarrassed. “No, no I don’t.” Ivy pauses. “OK, maybe just alittleluxury and glamor wouldn’t be so bad.” She grins. “I mean, if someone has to spend the night at the Paris Ritz, why can’t it be me?”
