“It would be romantic if it’s him. If it’s not, I’ll just anger the crowd already squeezed too tightly together for no reason.”
“Do it, Anizey! I like him.”
“Me too.” Val grins.
I shake my head, not believing I’m actually considering heading over there. I look out toward the man again. The rain has let up a bit, and the man still looks like Alex. I know what I told him, and nothing has changed, but the urge to run over even for the chance to see him is strong. It’s like I feel as if I’ve been given one more chance to see him, and maybe I shouldn’t waste it.
“Alright, I’ll go.”
Juniper starts jumping up and down, knocking the woman’s pocketbook off her shoulder. “Sorry!”
The woman smiles at Juniper and readjusts her bag.
“Really?” Val asks, like this is the most shocking news shehas ever received.
“What do I have to lose?”
“Your dry shirt,” Juniper supplies.
“I’ll move fast.”
I make my way arduously through the crowd and out the door, then run across the bricks, only coming to a stop when I’m at the feet of the man. I look up to meet the beautiful brown eyes of a stranger.
This is what I get for being impulsive and diverting from what I know is right. A wet shirt and the confused gaze of the second most handsome man in England.
17
Alexander
I’msittinguponthe weight bench in the gym by the indoor pool and find myself on my phone. Once again, I’m staring at the photo of me and Ivy. Am I crazy? Is it absolutely bonkers that I’m acting like she’s the love of my life who ended things with me after a five-year relationship? If someone I knew were in my situation, I’d probably say … suck it up. You’ve known her for two days, you idiot.
Except I’m the idiot.
I’ve always been a little impulsive. The type to jump in with both feet. Filled with enthusiasm and optimism. You should have heard the talks my father had with me before I left for California. But there was no stopping me from going to Hollywood, writing, directing and maybe acting some. I was all in.Excited to pursue my dream.
That was years ago, and I like to think I’ve gained some wisdom and life experience since then, but it seems I reverted to my old ways—at least where Ivy’s concerned. It’s like I saw her and parts of my now fully formed brain simply turned off. She was right. Of course she was right, but there I was on the edge of the cliff with my shoes off, ready to jump into that water, no matter how far below me it was.
She probably thought I was a naïve fool.
Ivy is smart and successful and has worked hard to achieve her goals. I have had to work hard very little in my life. While I wouldn’t say I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth, I had plenty of opportunities handed to me. There was always money and connections growing up. And once I moved to Hollywood, my looks got me in places which would take a more average-looking person years to get into. That makes me sound like a snob, but I know what I look like, and I certainly noticed when doors easily opened which should have remained closed. Thankfully, I had a natural talent to go along with my looks that kept me in the business.
Not that that’s impressive to Ivy. It makes me smile, remembering her initial reaction to me. I loved it. Iamjust a person; I just so happen to be in the public eye. The concept of celebrity is weird to me, especially now that I’m there. I don’t actually want to be famous. I want to create and live my life in peace.
I force myself to pocket my phone and lie back down on the weight bench. I’d thought a punishing workout would take my mind off Ivy. It hasn’t, but I’m not going to quit trying.
***
I make a protein smoothie with cherries and walnuts, then sit at the table in the kitchen. Of course, I pull out my phone. This time, I bypass the photo and search her name online.
There isn’t a lot. There’s a story on her local news site about the fire that destroyed her restaurant, Bowl. It looks like it had been a very popular spot in a fairly small town. I wonder how many restaurants they have there. Probably not many, judging by the virtual walk I’m taking down Main Street.
Then I go to Bowl’s website. There’s a page with Ivy’s picture and a short bio. She has an MBA and she’s a self-taught cook. She loves the beach but is thankful to live near the mountains. It’s not a lot to learn, but I’m glad to know it.
I move on to the menu. All the breakfast offerings remind me a little of the Parker’s restaurant back in Thousand Oaks. I should send them a postcard; they’d get a kick out of that.
Bowl has many exciting dishes on the menu, but I plan to get the grits. That’s something I’ve never tried, and I want to try Ivy’s grits one day. I will when I go. If I go.
I’m sliding my phone back into my pocket when I feel it vibrate. It’s my next riddle from Mr. Crawley.
