sighed inwardly at the sun glistening across the water. She and I were both blessed to wake up to magnificent views.
After she returned with a cold lemonade for me, we sat at her white wicker bistro set and gazed quietly out at the lake. People water-skied in the distance.
“So, what brings you here, Emery? Did my mother send you?” Ivy asked.
I knew she and Iris hadn’t resolved their issues. Although Ivy had stayed with her parents for months after her fiancé’s death, and she’d returned to her parents after Freddie Jackson attacked her in her apartment, there was still an estrangement between them. Mostly because Ivy refused to tell Iris what exactly had gone on between her and Oliver Frost. She’d pushed her parents away before he died, practically cutting everyone out of her life. And then when he overdosed and it was all over the papers, Ivy had returned to Hartwell to hide.
It was a shame. She was a wonderful screenwriter. I’d seen the movie that she won an Academy Award for, and her storytelling abilities were magical. Iris had given me a list of all the films Ivy had written, and I’d loved them. She was somewhat fatalistic but utterly romantic at the same time. It was a compelling combination.
Intelligence and wariness shone in her large dark eyes. I blushed a little under their intensity. Ivy was stunning. Her eyes tilted slightly upward and then narrowed toward the corner. She wore mascara today, making them appear even bigger. Her smooth, bronze skin was enviously perfect, her cheekbones movie-star high, and her mouth small but full. Since the attack, Ivy had cut her long, jet-black hair into a shoulder-length bob that now hung in tousled waves around her face. Iris and Ira didn’t know much about Ivy’s real parents beyond the fact that her mother was Filipino.
If I’d met Ivy at one of her star-studded events back in Hollywood, I wouldn’t have been able to talk to her. She was the kind of beautiful that stopped you in your tracks. And when she was all glammed up, it was intimidating.
Even now, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, there was something untouchable about Ivy.
“Well?” She raised an eyebrow before taking a sip of lemonade. “You’re blushing. My mother definitely put you up to this.”
I frowned. “Why would Iris send me to see you?”
“Because I’m no longer under her roof and her nose is twitching.” Ivy’s lips quirked. “She’s worried about me. All the time.”
“Well, mothers are supposed to worry about their daughters. You should be grateful for that.” I winced because I sounded almost accusatory.
“I am grateful. But I’m also a grown woman who doesn’t need her mother sending over spies.”
“I’m not a spy.”
“Then why are you blushing?”
“I do that. Especially around people I don’t know very well.”
“Right. Actually, I already knew that.” She studied me carefully. “I don’t get it, though. I mean, you’ve seen you, right? You have Hollywood written all over you.”
I huffed in embarrassment. “Oh, yes, I’m quintessential Hollywood.”
She laughed at my sarcasm. “Not in personality. And I would not recommend that world to anyone, let alone someone as shy as you, but you’re beautiful and the camera would love you.”
“Is that all it takes?”
Ivy frowned. “No. Not for most of the biggest, well-respected actors. You have to be able to act. But you also have to have that certain something. Charisma. You can’t cheat charisma. Some of the most average-looking actors have charisma and it transcends good looks. You know … they’re just naturally sexy. And nothing is hotter than a guy who can take what you’ve written and make it so real, your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest watching him.” She gazed at the lake, smiling softly to herself.
“Did you date actors while you were out there?” I asked tentatively, not sure it was a subject she’d want to touch.
Ivy threw me a wicked smile. “Hell yeah.”
I laughed and her grin widened.
After a moment of surprisingly comfortable silence, she asked, “So really, Emery, why are you here?”
“To invite you to lunch today.” I sat up a little straighter. “The girls come to my store once a week for lunch. Jess, Dahlia, and Bailey. I thought you might like to join us.”
Ivy contemplated me. “You know, my mom used to talk about you all the time.” She looked a little sheepish. “I was jealous of you.”
Shocked, I could only stare. “Why?”
“Silly, right? I was in LA. I had the kind of