felt at the sight of it made his heart cry out once more. A desperate yearning that swelled with each aching thump.
No replying today, he reminded himself. He tapped the screen over her name and read.
Ivy: Easton, I’m not the one who sent in your contract. My coworker, Nancy, sent it, along with your interview, while I was gone. Please call and let me explain. I don’t want you to go on the show either, but there’s nothing I can do.
Easton let that bomb rumble through him, the commotion causing the layers he’d built in his mind to crumble. He shoved the phone back in his pocket and walked on, willing the sweat casing his face to hurry and cool against the breeze, but it wasn’t. Another step more and he tugged the phone from his pocket and reread the message.
“Not the one who sent it in?”
Keep walking, Easton. That was the deal. But there was another message from her he wanted to read first.
Ivy: Please, Easton. I’m sick to my stomach. Please call and let me hear your voice. Call and let me explain. I don’t want to lose what we have.
Another explosion rocked through him, displacing all the thoughts in his head. Why in heavens name wouldn’t he call her? Maybe there really was a good explanation for the whole thing.
He gulped and, with a shaky hand, hovered his thumb over the icon at the top of the screen. The one that would call Ivy with one tap. A wave of something that felt an awful lot like fear pushed through him.
Just do it, Easton.
He did. One simple tap.
Another gulp slunk down his throat as he put it on speaker and waited for it to ring. It didn’t. Instead, a machine picked up. One of those automated recordings saying the mailbox was full.
Relief clashed with torment as he thumped the disconnect icon harder than necessary and shoved the phone back in his pocket. He stayed like that, mid-stride, as the torment won. Loving someone—or falling in love, as he was—was terrible. Why did anyone do it? Even if they did fix things now, even if Ivy had a perfectly good explanation, did he really want to get sucked in so deep that he couldn’t get out next time? What if this was his only chance to…to clear her out of his mind somehow?
The phone buzzed in his pocket, and Easton was quick to retrieve it. He anxiously tapped the screen. Was Ivy returning his call so soon?
No. It was another text from Marsha Langston.
Unknown Number: The countdown is on. You’ve got until the end of the night to accept my offer. My very generous offer, I should say. Do everyone a favor and take care of this situation. It will only get worse if you ignore it.
The end of the night, huh? Did that mean the show’s premier would air that evening? Is that why it’d be too late after that? Easton didn’t actually know when the start date was. Not that it mattered. He hated threats, and he didn’t like being pushed around either. Besides, he’d made himself an agreement, hadn’t he?
Yes, he had. He’d told himself he would not respond to anything until tomorrow. Sure, he’d tried to call Ivy after getting her text, but that was a mere moment of weakness. He was stronger now. And determined to let Marsha Langston’s deadline pass before he reached out.
With that, Easton powered off his phone, secured his gear, and headed back to his campsite.
Chapter 17
Ivy stared down at the small invite in her hand. Marsha had become very generous since their discussion about Easton the other day. Not only had she given Ivy her job back, she’d given her four premier tickets to tonight’s live production of Looking For Love. To prepare Ivy and her guests for the event, she’d gifted her and her guests a full-day spa treatment, lunch in the Spa’s Korean eatery included.
As her guests, Ivy had chosen her sister Jackie and her sisters-in-law Taya and Joelle. Already, they’d spent hours in the women’s bath house, enjoying body scrubs, facials, and foot rubs. They’d moved on to the steam room next, then hit several of the mineral heated huts on the way to lunch.
As if all of this wasn’t enough, Ivy had received yet another invitation from Marsha, courtesy of the waitress who’d delivered their food—oversized bowls of ramen noodles with boiled eggs, wontons, and egg rolls.
Jackie leaned over her as she took the