"What does he need it for?"
Ivy paused on the sidewalk. "What makes you think I know what he needs it for?"
A beat. "Well?"
"A restaurant. I think. At least that's the impression I got when Mrs. Patel brought it up and Finn looked like she was dangling proprietary seedlings over his head."
"So you're doing it?"
"Neither of us had a rational basis for refusing."
"That's the most romantic thing I've heard all month."
"Eva—"
"Two people with competing needs recognizing that their interests are aligned and proceeding on the basis of rational self-interest? That's basically a Regency novel." She sounded deeply pleased. "When do you start?"
"We're meeting tonight to set ground rules."
"He proposed ground rules?"
"He said he had a format."
Eva laughed. "Of course he does." Then, more gently: "Hey. Is this okay? Actually okay?"
Ivy looked at the community center door. "Ask me after tonight. I've got another call coming in."
Roz started in without preamble when Ivy clicked over. "I saw the numbers this morning. Two point three million."
"It wasn't planned."
"I know it wasn't planned; planned would have been a different clip — planned would have been lighting and a script, and you wouldn't have had the thing on your face."
"What thing on my face?"
"We'll come back to that. Tell me this guy is open to a collaboration?"
Ivy told her about the partnership proposal. Roz listened, which she was excellent at; making the small sounds that meantI'm hereandkeep goingat the right intervals. When Ivy finished, there was a pause.
"Did you plan this?" Roz said.
"No."
"I know you didn't plan the clip, but the competition — the timing?—"
"Roz."
"I'm asking because the whole setup has a?—"
"I did not plan a fake viral moment in order to engineer a cooking competition in a town I haven't lived in for ten years."
A pause. "Okay," Roz said, in the tone of someone who had decided to take this on faith.
"You sound unconvinced."
"I'm convinced you didn't plan it. I'm noting that it worked out well and you should be prepared for people to think you planned it."
Ivy sat down on a bench outside the pharmacy. Through the window she could see the original soda counter, the morning light hitting the old tin ceiling. "Devon is probably thinking it."
