“Thought we would drink out of the bottle for old times’ sake.”
“So you forgot.”
“So I forgot!” I gestured. “I’m not an event planner. I can barely organize a property deal.”
Ivy snickered and took the bottle of wine from me, taking a swig.
“Much better than the gas station version,” she said as she walked across the expansive space to the kitchen.
I followed her and picked up the brochure that lay on the long white marble island. “Seven thousand square feet of sexy real estate,” I said in a fake announcer’s voice. “Guaranteed to impress any woman with your newly gotten billions.”
Ivy snorted.
“You can’t say you aren’t impressed!” I joked to Ivy. She looked up at the ceiling. I crossed the distance between us. I wanted to kiss her. “Though,” I said when she didn’t move, “I can’t really see using this as a hookup pad. With these giant windows, you really have to think of lovemaking as a spectator sport.”
“Sex, shallow women, and fast cars—you’re a walking, barely coherently talking stereotype,” Ivy told me lightly as she moved around me to the staircase.
“Stereotypes are there for a reason. They rarely disappoint,” I said, admiring her ass as she walked up the open staircase to the top floor.
“Are you thinking of buying this place?” Ivy asked as I followed her into the master bedroom.
“I feel like you’re sending mixed signals,” I told her as she trailed her fingers along the bedspread.
Me, Ivy, this bed…
“I think you need to get better at reading women,” she said tartly.
“Is that a dig about Camilla?” I said, running after her. She was in the bathroom, inspecting the freestanding tub next to a window that looked out over the Hudson River.
“There’s his and hers sinks, but the toilet is on display. I mean, there’s sharing and then there’s sharing,” I commented. “See, this is why I’m not buying this place.”
“Why? Afraid your revolving door of rebound hookups are going to be offended by having to pee on display?” she teased, grabbing my arm for a split second.
“You have to admit,” I continued as we headed back downstairs, “that this place isn’t the best place to live.”
Ivy stopped on the step behind me. I turned. I was a few steps below her, and our mouths were at the same height. I could just lean in and kiss her.
“Of course you wouldn’t love this place,” she said. “I always knew you had terrible taste.”
* * *
Ivy wassilent on the drive back to her condo.
“I’ll walk you up,” I said, parking the car in front of the squat brick building.
“No you won’t, because then you’ll never leave. Good night, Evan.”
I waited at least to make sure she was safely in her building, fighting the urge to run up after her, push her against the wall, and fuck her brains out.
My phone rang on the drive back.Camilla. I canceled the call, but she called back. Then the phone dinged with a message.
Camilla:You want that property? Then pick up.
“Fuck,” I said, clenching the steering wheel. The phone started ringing again.
“What do you want, Camilla?”
“I don’t understand why you can’t answer my calls. For someone who really wants my dad to sell him property, you sure aren’t being apologetic enough.”
