The Ivy House - By Drea Stein Page 0,86

true to herself.

“I think, maybe, I’m being manipulated.” She told Lynn what she had learned from Robin Smyth.

“I don’t think Chase would do that,” Lynn began.

Phoebe shook her head. She had done a little more research after getting off the phone and realized that Robin had been right. Supposedly, Serena was not known for sharing credit for design ideas. And once Phoebe had looked a little more closely at the press release about her collaboration with Serena, she saw that the language was intentionally vague about how committed Serena was to Phoebe.

“Not Chase.”

It took Lynn only a moment to put it together. “Oh, you think Dean is trying to get you away from here and Chase. I knew he was the villain.”

Phoebe rolled her eyes at Lynn’s dramatics. “Not a villain. Just being pretty aggressive in pursuing me. I think he’s doing what an agent does, spinning the media to make the situation work to his advantage.”

“So, you’re not going to get me backstage passes to a Serena concert?”

Phoebe shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. I still know a few people. But I don’t think I’m going to be working with her. It’s my life, my terms this time.”

“This means that you’re not leaving?” Lynn’s face broke into a smile.

“No, I’m not leaving,” Phoebe assured her, knowing in that moment that she really did belong here, that she wanted to be here, to give this a real try.

“I’m glad. I would’ve missed you,” Lynn said, and, impulsively, Phoebe hugged her.

“This means more margarita nights at Augie’s.”

“I can handle it if you can,” Lynn said.

Phoebe took a sip of her champagne, savoring the bubbles. She would need to tell Dean her official decision. But not now. For now, she just wanted to savor the moment.

“Imagine, a major magazine wants to do an article on me…” Phoebe said, feeling her toes tingling.

“So cool. And you don’t care that they’re going to mention Savannah?” Lynn asked.

Phoebe shook her head. She had thought about this too. “It finally feels right. Like the editor said, an artistic torch being passed from one generation to the next. I think Savannah would have been proud. And happy.”

“Have you told anyone else?”

“I haven’t talked to Dean yet.” Phoebe shook her head. She wanted to keep him out of this opportunity.

“That’s not who I meant,” Lynn countered.

Phoebe turned to face her. “It doesn’t matter if I stay or go. Chase and I want different things. I want to settle down and, well, I don’t think he’s the type.”

“Did you ever tell him that’s what you wanted?” Lynn said, taking a sip of her champagne.

They had nearly polished off the bottle of champagne and were digging into a bag of potato chips when Phoebe got the text.

“Ugh, it’s Dean. He wants to see me. I guess he wants his answer.”

“Can’t you text him back?” Lynn suggested, licking the salt off a chip before eating it.

“No. I think a part of him wants to make sure I’m back in Los Angeles. Unless I can explain it to his face that I plan on turning down this amazing opportunity and why, he’ll think I’m delusional.

“Are you rational?” Lynn asked, gesturing to the half-empty bottle of champagne.

“I poured you more,” Phoebe said with a snicker.

“Ahh, no wonder I feel all floaty and wonderful. I’ll hold down the fort while you’re gone. Have you got a TV yet?”

Laughing, Phoebe tossed her the remote. She texted Dean back and ran upstairs, changing into a sundress and a pair of high-heeled sandals. Using her sunglasses as a headband, she fluffed her hair, grabbed her bag, and was ready.

Chapter 44

Chase kept pounding on the door. Finally, he heard footsteps and when it opened, he almost barreled in, but stopped.

“Where is she?” he demanded.

“Hello to you too,” Lynn said. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, not her scrubs, and her hair was in a messy ponytail. He could hear the sound of the TV in the background, and he saw a flash of the screen and almost did a double take until he realized that it was Savannah and Leland on the big screen and not Phoebe and himself.

“Lynn?”

“She had to meet someone. You really upset her, you know. How could you? You know that’s the one thing she hates, being used because of who she is.”

“I wasn’t using her,” he said, the panic rising. “Where is she? Who is she meeting?” he demanded again, dread hitting him hard.

“Why is that any of your business? She said your deal