these messages,” Marsha assured. “Don’t go anywhere.”
Easton leaned over his lap as soon as the cameras panned out.
Marsha did the same. “You’re doing great,” she said.
“Where’s Ivy?”
Marsha lifted a finger and tapped at her earpiece. Her brows pulled down in a deep furrow as she seemed to gather a piece of information, and then she lifted her gaze back to him. “Stuck in traffic. There was an accident on the interstate.”
“But you planned to have her here?” Easton asked, disappointment pushing its way through him.
“Planned? Yes. I went to great lengths, in fact. An all-day spa treatment, hair, makeup, gowns…It was going to be her own live TV Cinderella story. She deserves that, don’t you think?”
Easton couldn’t agree more. “Yes, she does.”
Marsha frowned. “I thought we’d overcome the biggest feat by getting you here in time. But if we can’t get Ivy here, the whole thing will be a bust.”
Suddenly, the stakes felt higher than ever. Because despite his aversion to being in the public eye, despite his preference for privacy, Easton wanted very badly to give Ivy her own fairytale moment. A happily ever after that, if all went well, would add onto their promising beginning. One they could share with their kids one day. And their kids’ kids. They should know that their father, or grandfather as it might be, treated Ivy like a queen.
An idea came to him then. A recollection, really, as he remembered a story Ivy told him once. He motioned Marsha closer as a rush of excitement burst within him.
Marsha leaned in, the smile at her lips saying she sensed he had something that might save the day. She tipped her ear his way, and Easton leaned in further still.
“I’ve got an idea. But first, tell me this. Is there any way we can get ahold of her father?”
Chapter 20
It’s no big deal, Ivy. You’re just missing the preshow. The traffic will clear up in time for the first episode.
Ivy glanced at the sight before them; that same flatbed truck was still right in front. A green Volkswagen bus remained in the rear. Sure, she wasn’t happy about missing the preshow, or the idea of missing the entire live episode, mainly because her sisters were looking so forward to it. But that’s not where Ivy’s worry lie. Because her real concern, the much greater dilemma, was her relationship with Easton.
Her sisters were content for now; the three of them were admiring one another’s gowns, heels, and matching jewelry. She was glad they’d been enjoying the day. And heck, if worse came to worse and they didn’t make it to the studio in time for the show, perhaps one of them could try to pull up the live footage on their phone. They could watch it from the limo until they arrived.
She nodded. That might be possible.
Speaking of phones, Ivy mused, spotting something from her periphery. A quick glance at the ladies said she was right—they were each hovered over their phones suddenly. She watched as they exchanged worried glances before shifting their collective gaze to her.
Ivy’s heart skipped. “What?”
“Nothing,” Taya blurted, shoving her phone on the seat face down.
Joelle stared at her like a deer caught in the crosshairs. “Uh…”
“Joelle’s friend just sent her a link,” Jackie said, voice filled with dread. “The tabloids got their hands on the story.”
Her body was working faster than her brain, it seemed. Because while Ivy struggled to dissect what she’d said, her body was already reacting to the news with a racing pulse.
“What story?” she asked.
“The one with you and Easton,” her sister explained. “They got it wrong, of course.”
“Tabloids are just mean,” Taya added. “I wouldn’t look at it.”
Ivy moved her gaze over the women, catching one sympathetic look after the next. She gulped, humiliation rising so high she could drown in it.
“It’s mean?” She wasn’t sure how her heart could hammer so wildly. Wasn’t it bleeding by now? It felt like it was. In fact, as the sharp and stinging pain swelled with each rhythmic pulse, it felt like it might give out altogether. Taya was definitely right; Ivy shouldn’t want to look at it, but she couldn’t avoid looking forever.
She extended her hand toward them, bracing herself for whatever she might see on that screen, and nodded toward Joelle. “Here, can I please see it?”
Suddenly, the distinct sound of a helicopter sounded overhead.
“Must be the station’s traffic watch,” Jackie guessed.
“Yeah,” Taya said.
Distraction was not going to work, Ivy would see to that. But then