The Ivy House - By Drea Stein Page 0,57

notice that North Coast Outfitters and Ivy Lane Designs were collaborating on a new collection. Luckily, no one would pick up on the connection between her and Chase. But still it was out there, a flag in the sand, so to speak, that Phoebe was declaring for herself.

“Yes, I wish you had told me. I would have been happy to negotiate on your behalf,” Dean said smoothly. Phoebe heard the clink of china and realized that Dean was already up, fully up, even though it was still very early on the West Coast.

“Well, thanks for the thought, but I did OK,” Phoebe said. The terms had seemed fair enough; but then, she hadn’t really asked for more, pushed, seen how much Chase was willing to give her. Dean was like a shark; he would never have acted that way on behalf of his client.

“Glad to hear. It’s a good thing,” he said, “I suppose. I am still working on wearing CallieSue down and knowing that you’ve moved on might be just the thing to make her want you back.”

“Dean,” Phoebe began. In truth, she hadn’t thought once about losing the job to work on CallieSue’s new line of country accessories and home goods. She had been too focused on and excited about her own business and designs to think about anyone else’s.

“I know, I know, you said to leave it be. I wasn’t sure that heading out there was such a good idea, but who knew you would sign a business deal.” He laughed again, but Phoebe had the sense he was dodging the point. Dean was probably sitting in his ultra-modern apartment, high up, with a commanding view of the city.

“Well, I think it’s good for me. The house is wonderful,” Phoebe hedged. It still needed a lot of work, but she was getting there. “And I’ve been feeling really creative, full of energy.” Inspired, though Phoebe didn’t say that.

“Well, I just want you to be careful, my dear. I checked a bit on the company you’ve signed on with. I hope you aren’t dealing directly with the president, a Chase Sanders. He seems to have quite the reputation for himself.”

Phoebe felt herself bristle at the implied warning. “He’s not anything like the papers make him out to be…” she began, and then realized that she didn’t know him that well at all.

“Ahh, so it was a personal deal,” Dean said. “Listen, Phoebs, you know I am just looking out for you. I don’t want you to get taken advantage of again.” He said it gently, kindly and Phoebe felt her irritation slip away. Dean really did look after her; he always had.

“I know, I know,” Phoebe acknowledged. “And it’s just business, nothing like it was with Garrett. I mean, I have nothing to offer him besides my pillows.”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone and Phoebe waited, hoping that Dean wouldn’t say anything that would make it awkward between the two of them.

“Well, I am sure you know what you’re doing. And, well, now that you have a new job, I’m sure you’ll be back here soon working again.”

Phoebe laughed with him, not having the heart to tell him that she wasn’t sure whether she was going back. She could work wherever she wanted to, at least for a while, and the thought of not hopping on a plane and heading back to Los Angeles was becoming more and more appealing.

<<>>

Her morning, after the phone call with Dean, went well. At least she meant it to, having every intention to focus on work. She’d made a great start on the collection for North Coast Outfitters, but she was fiddling with the first designs, doing her best to get them perfect. Memorable. Unforgettable.

“Don’t be alarmed.” Jake, the floor guy, popped up in front of her, a bacon-and-egg sandwich in one hand and the other hand clutched around a steaming cup of coffee. Phoebe was so startled she almost dropped the empty mug of coffee that she had been on her way to refill.

“Is there a problem?” Phoebe asked. Chase strolled in right behind Jake, hands stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, looking totally at ease in a leather jacket. He had on his expensive sunglasses, which he removed as his dark eyes gazed around the place.

“We’re almost done,” Jake said to Phoebe’s unanswered question. “I know it still looks bad, but this is a messy job. I need another two days for the upstairs.

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