The Ivy House - By Drea Stein Page 0,75

as someone blew a foghorn, a signal for the launch to come pick them up.

“Do you always treat your investments like this?”

“Like what?” he asked.

“Wine and dine them?”

“Sometimes, I go out for business dinners,” he said carefully, his fork hovering in midair. “I take a personal interest in all of my affairs.”

“Affairs?” Phoebe didn’t know why she was pushing. Everything was going well. She had been designing like mad, and Chase’s own house design team was a dream to work with. He’d even sent Tory over to redo her website and now the orders were coming in, several a day. But her work for the collection was almost done. In another week or so, there would be no real reason to stay in Queensbay.

“I meant business affairs. In the most traditional sense,” he said, humor lighting up his eyes.

She had begun to think that she could build her business from anywhere. She’d been ducking Dean’s calls, knowing that if she told him what she was thinking, he would try anything to convince her to come back to Los Angeles. He’d been calling and texting almost daily since she had mentioned the deal with Chase.

She was starting to build a life on her own terms, but she wanted to be more than an investment to Chase, something he would hand off to be managed when she had fulfilled her end of the deal. So far, he’d given no indication that it was anything but smooth sailing, but then again, he hadn’t asked lately if she were planning on staying or going.

“You’re not jealous I discovered that new sweater designer in England, are you? I like her stuff, but I told you, she’s an old salt dog, almost fifty, with a Scotsman for a husband. I feel like he’s going to run me through with his bagpipes if I even so much as look at his wife.”

Phoebe laughed. When Chase had told her that he was going to England for a few days, she had wondered what she would do if all his designers were given the same treatment as her. They had never talked about the status of their relationship as easily as they had slipped into it. She realized that she had just assumed Chase was a one-woman-at-a-time type of guy, but she had no proof.

“Hey, that’s not jealousy I see, is it? Imagine, the fair-haired California babe being worried about some lady who knits sweaters in the dark and cold.”

“Well, when you put it that way, but surely there must be others. You seem to have quite a stable of talent you’re developing.”

Chase shrugged, but his eyes were serious. “That’s part of what makes North Coast Outfitters successful. Luxury and high-quality goods you can’t get everywhere. It takes time and attention to do that.”

“I know,” Phoebe said. She felt restless. They were supposed to be meeting up with Noah and Caitlyn to listen to some live music at Augie’s—Lynn, too, if she got done with her rounds—but there was something that was making her edgy.

“You don’t think I’m stepping out on you, do you?” Chase asked, his voice low.

“No. I don’t know.” She was standing by the railing now, looking over at the bustle of the harbor below. The sun was starting to set and boats were streaming in to get settled for the night, couples were walking about arm in arm and kids raced up and down, playing or enjoying ice cream. It was a happy scene, full of life and Phoebe glanced up. Ivy House was just visible, its tall tower poking up among the trees that were now fully covered in their summer coats. Even from here, she could see that the house needed painting, one of those big-ticket items she had decided to put off. Still, it was there, a landmark, looking down over charming Queensbay, watching the town, protecting it.

Did she want to be part of this life? She could work from anywhere, she knew that, whether it was Queensbay or Los Angeles or some other place she’d never been to. But would she want to stay in Queensbay, in Ivy House, if Chase wasn’t part of her life? She looked over at him. He was sitting there, his big frame at ease in the comfortable chair.

“Phoebe, I haven’t been with anyone else since I met you…since before I met you and, more importantly, I haven’t thought about anyone else. I know my PR department has tried to paint a different picture of me,