The Ivy House - By Drea Stein Page 0,85

had wanted to catch him.

“I think you’re finally getting it. I don’t think she bought into any of this romance-of-the-century stuff you cooked up.”

“I didn’t cook it up,” Chase began, but then stopped. He certainly hadn’t prevented it, figuring it was good for both of them. But she hadn’t wanted any of that either.

“I mean, do you think that stuff is true? This whole crazy love thing? Savannah and Leland…that wasn’t love, was it? It was just self-destructive lust, right?”

Noah smiled, a dreamy one, as he sanded down the wood on the boat. “Love takes many different forms, my friend, and when it comes to you, you shouldn’t fight it. Always seemed to me like your grandfather and Savannah Ryan were all in.”

Chase stood there glowering as he thought about it.

Noah laughed and continued with his sanding as he asked, “So, what are you going to do?”

Chapter 43

“Phoebe Ryan?” Phoebe answered her phone, only half paying attention. She was thinking of packing, trying to sort through the things she might want to take with her and the things that could go into storage. She had already contacted the real estate agent about the possibility of renting Ivy House out again and someone at an auction house about making a full catalog of Savannah’s stuff. The money could go to charity, Phoebe thought.

“This is Robin Smyth from Hot Style.” Phoebe perked up. Hot Style was one of her favorite reads, filled with all sorts of up-and-coming designers and products.

“I wanted to discuss featuring your line of pillows and accessories in an upcoming issue and on our website and TV segments. Your work recently came to our attention, and I think it would be a great fit in our next issue.”

Phoebe stopped what she was doing, trying to breathe. “You want to feature me?”

“Yes, we just love your stuff. Plus, I heard you’re restoring an old house. And that it belonged to Savannah Ryan. Listen, I was such a huge fan and was so sad when I heard your grandmother passed away. I just think that since you do such great stuff and if we can tie it in with her work, well, then it would be like the artistic torch is being passed from one generation to the next—even if the medium is different. What do you say, are you interested?”

Phoebe smiled and she could almost hear Savannah’s raspy voice saying, “You finally got your big break.”

“I don’t suppose this has anything to do with all the rumors going around now, does it?”

There was a pause. “Well, to tell you the truth, I got a call from at least four other designers who told me that they just had meetings with Serena about working on a collection together.”

“Oh,” Phoebe said.

“I guess her agent and manager are really shopping around. I am sure it would be a great opportunity for you, but I really like your stuff, even without someone else’s name attached to it.” Robin emphasized the word “your,” and Phoebe felt her heart beat a little faster.

“Plus, I am a sucker for cute little Victorian house with water views.”

Phoebe laughed. “Apparently, I am too. So, no matter what happens with the Serena deal, you want to feature me?”

She could hear Robin shuffling some papers. “Yes. And between you and me,” she said, dropping her voice, “I hear she’s a total nightmare to work with. And a total attention hog. Listen, it’s your business, but something similar happened with her clothing line. She went to ten different design teams before she found one that she stuck with, and they have a total non-disclosure agreement. They can’t tell anyone who they work for. And worse yet, they can’t put out anything of their own.”

Phoebe let that all sink in.

“Great. Now,” Robin continued, “I’m not promising anything, but many of the new designers and companies we feature, they see quite a jump in their business. Are you prepared to handle that?”

Phoebe looked around the study and her big workspace. Her sketches were spread out on it. She had been sorting through them, deciding whether any of them were worth keeping. There was a decision to be made here.

“I’m ready to handle it,” Phoebe said.

<<>>

Lynn had come over with a bottle of champagne when she heard the news. “I am so excited for you.”

Phoebe was nervous, but she could feel the adrenaline and the champagne kicking in. Excitement. Purpose. There was a chance that nothing would come of it, but she had to be