And it definitelywasstubbornness that prevented her from turning around at that point. She’d even cursed the rock she’d run into, cursed it for stopping her in her tracks, until she realized that those tracks were no longer on the actual road. A road that soon would become narrow enough to throw her off the edge with one wrong move.
What Easton had said was true.
A sick, hollow sounding thud pulsed in her ears, throbbing against her temples as the magnitude started to sink in. Had Easton not come looking for her…she shuddered against the thought.
The tank could have easily run empty before the storm died. There’d been no data or WiFi service to speak of. Even as he escorted her from the rental to his Jeep, Ivy had left the suitcase behind, still foolishly thinking she’d come right back to her rental once the interview was done. Her clothes, makeup, laptop and chargers, all of it sat in the abandoned SUV, whereshewould still be if he hadn’t come looking for her.
Easton was definitely brave to weather the elements as he’d done. Many would likely alert the authorities if they thought someone was lost in the storm, not go looking for them on their own. Especially if that someone was a complete stranger. Of course, Easton, with his job as it was, probably possessed a greater survival and rescue instinct than most.
Still, it could be that he was so anxious to get on the show that he couldn’t fathom missing out on the interview. This was his shot and he wasn’t going to miss out on it. It didn’t exactly fit the picture she was getting from him, but Ivy nodded just the same.
Whatever his reasons were, she was very grateful to him. So why couldn’t she have done a better job of showing it?
An image of Marsha Langston flashed into her mind. An achy burn followed, trailing from her head to her heart.
Crap! Crapitty crap crap! I will not let you down?She wished she could un-send that stupid text.“Ugh.”
Why had she volunteered to do all five interviews when they were spread out over five different states, more thanhalfof which were covered in snow? Because she’d been trying to keep up with Nancy, that’s why.
Her mind forced her back to her dilemma.It was a matter of life and death, Ivy. What’s a promotion compared to that?
A chill crept up her back at the truth of those words.
Surely Marsha could appreciate her dilemma. Especially since Ivy had gone out on a limb when the cab driver refused to take her. And maybe there was a story here. It was said that Marsha, as cutthroat and cunning as she might be, was a romantic at heart. Hence, her fascination with matchmaking TV shows. If that was the case, she’d be eating up Ivy’s troubled tale with a spoon. One of her very own bachelors, chivalrously swooping to the rescue of hertopassistant.
Ivy rode on that high for a blink. Yes, Easton’s heroic rescue would surely earn him a spot in the finals. But who was she kidding—his appearance alone would do that no matterwhathis personality was like.
Easton Sparks, with his masculine chiseled jaw, angular nose, and those well-defined lips, had a face made for the camera. Not to mention his physique…
Marsha was right to have her sights set on him. Soon every woman in America would too. The thought almost kindled a tinge of jealousy, but not quite. How could she be jealous about something she didn’t want for herself?
Only as she considered the way he’d tossed the warm blanket over her shoulders—the feelings that had fluttered through her at his touch—that statement didn’t exactly feel true. Even in recollection, a soft ripple of goosebumps trailed up her arms. She guessed it was because he was so…manly and attractive. Having his undivided attention on her…it made her heart race even in recollection.
He knows he has that effect on women—he has to.
A sudden thud sounded from the door. “Ivy,” she heard.
An image of Easton holding a stack of wood came to mind. “Oh, yeah.” Quickly then, she darted over to the door with one hand holding the blanket in place, and cranked the knob with her other hand.
A mass of sloshy snowflakes pelted her face, fueled by a loud and vicious roar of wind. Her brother had once aimed a leaf blower at her face while cleaning grass clippings off the driveway. The speed of this wind with its wet, frozen chunks made that encounter look like a gentle breeze on a summer’s day.
Ivy clenched her eyes shut against the assault and stepped out of the way, her fingers still curled around the door’s edge. Once Easton stepped into the dwelling with a hulking mass of wood, Ivy hurried to push the door closed behind him.
The wind—surprise, surprise—fought against her, but she wasn’t about to give up without a fight. The storm had taken enough from her for one day. She wasn’t about to let it take her dignity too.
With that, Ivy readied herself, positioning her shoulder in just the right place. At once, she forced her weight behind the action and shoved off, forcing the door to give way as she wished.
She sighed.
No more wind trying to knock her off balance.
No more snowflakes attacking her face.
“There,” she said proudly, dusting off her hands for effect.
She met eyes with Easton, noting that he’d covered the wood stack with a tarp. Good thing, since it was drenched with snow. Sheesh, that stack must weigh a ton. She lifted her gaze in time to see his eyes come alive with…fear?
“Ivy!”
