Almost an hour and another lavender lemonade later, the group breaks off and goes their separate ways. No matter how unconventional the setting, this event seems to hit the spot. Attendees all seem happier and relieved to not be kept inside all day. The chatting is relaxed, and laughs are many compared to the typical obligatory small talk that events like this usually produce. This has Royce written all over it and it’s a great idea.
Hovering near the same swing that caught my eye earlier, I’m debating if I want to get on or not when someone says my name.
“Ivy, it’s great to see you,” Royce says from behind me. My mental compliment must’ve summoned him. Along with a large amount of his cologne.
“Great event, Royce. And an awesome turnout here. What a fun idea!” I say with an exaggerated look around the space. No matter what, I can schmooze with the best of them.
“Couldn’t do it without vendors like you.” He winks. “Do you get it…NETworking?” He puts his hands up and looks around.
Nothing like needing to reassure the millionaire his pun hits. Everyone gets it.
“Clever.” I nod. A single-word answer is the absolute best I can do.
“I’m bummed Jack isn’t here. We always have such a good time at these wrap-ups. Something really good had to have come up to keep him away.” He claps his hands and rubs them together like I have any idea what he’s talking about. “Nothing like some bachelors kicking back after getting some work done.”
My brain can’t compute what’s happening. I’m standing in front of Royce, brows arched, and words aren’t coming to me. It’s like the entire English language has emptied from my brain and all my energy is being used to translate what Royce just said. What the hell arebachelor things? This feels inappropriate and like he’s ratting Jack out for cheating—or doing something close to it—when he’d travel for work. Jack definitely made trips for Royce’s company while we were dating.
Before I head too far down the rabbit hole, I muster a response. “I’msurethere’s nothing like it. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get back. I have an early flight home tomorrow.” I collect myself and reach for a handshake. Royce takes it upon himself to start with a handshake but then to pull me in for a hug. Our hands get awkwardly caught between us and there isn’t a word for how uncomfortable I am. He somehow finds a way to make it worse. I can hear him smelling my hair and feel his hands low on my back.
This. Is. Gross.
“Still lots of time to bump into each other tonight,” he responds with a wink.
My mouth is watering like I could literally vomit all over Royce. Real-life vomit wouldn’t make this situation anymore disgusting. I hope my face doesn’t give me away.
“See ya around, Ivy. Give Jack my best.”
He can’t hear my response as I’ve already turned away. I’m walking as fast as these heels will take me. “I will absolutelynotbe doing that.” Even if I’m the only one that hears it, it makes me feel like I stood up for myself.
A shudder goes through my body. What the hell was that?
I don’t want to look like I’m running away, or draw any attention to myself, so I grab a chair and sit for a few minutes.
Once Royce is wrapped up with someone else, I head inside.
One step into the lobby and I hear Bea. “Sweet Ivy—it looks like you could use a drink or maybe a snack. You’re as pale as a sheet.” Her timing is impeccable, and she’s spot on.
I do need a drink.
Chapter Eleven
THERE ISN’T MUCH work for me to do at the lodge. It’s been like that for months. Some days, it makes me feel useless. Like today.
No matter how little work there is, the pull to this place is something fierce. I’ll never leave it behind.
I turn my cell phone on and see a missed call from my mom. Not unusual. We’re close and talk at least three times a week. She and my dad are trying to book a trip to the lodge for a few days.
The house I grew up in, and where my parents still live, is an hour away, but I don’t go home much. My preference is to have them here instead, as often as possible.
My parents have been dropping hints about how I should hire a general manager. This would allow me to focus more on big-picture decisions and less day-to-day management. Whenever they bring it up, my chest feels like I’m under a stack of bricks. They mean well but I can’t go there.
If I were to go that route, I don’t know what else I’d do to fill my time. These last few years have been focused around one thing and one thing only: the lodge. Outside of that, I’m not sure what else there is.
I owe it to my family. Most importantly, I owe it to Hazel.
Instead of staring at the lack of work, I go back home and take Slate fora walk. He was meant to be a city dog, so walks are short. If you take him too far, he’ll eventually plop on the ground and refuse to move. I learned this the hard way. Everyone loves it and I despise it.
We take a trail on the outskirts of the lodge. The sun shines but when it’s about to be too warm, a cold breeze shuffles through. Damn near perfect walking conditions.
