All of Me (10 page)

Survived him.

But how nice to be out with a man who didn’t want her to run lines with him or ask her whether she thought it was a wise investment to have his teeth capped.

Giancarlo brought their orders, and it felt good to be with someone who wouldn’t question why she didn’t drink. Who chose not to drink either, not because he had to, but maybe because he understood. He knew her history.

Jeff knew about Mama and her drinking. All about the accident that had claimed her life and thank God no one else’s. He also knew that Ivey not only couldn’t hold her liquor, but that after the accident she simply refused to drink on principle. And even though he didn’t share her feelings, he respected them.

“It’s actually nice to have dinner with someone who doesn’t want to recite lines with me later.”

Jeff raised an eyebrow. “Actors?”

“All of my serial dating involved men who either were actors or on the way to becoming actors. I’ve had many different roles, I’ll have you know. Unfortunately, mostly I’ve played criminals. Cop shows, you know, they’re so popular. I’ve been a detective on the take, a hooker, and a junkie.”

“So playing against type.”

“My dates always had the best lines. It got old after a while. But I did have other, far more pertinent influence on the actors of today.”

“Like?”

“To cap or not to cap teeth? To wax or not to wax the chest hair?”

Jeff winced.

He happened to have the best kind of man’s chest in her opinion—a light sprinkling of hair, not too hairy and not too bare. Like Goldilocks’s bed—just right. He’d never wax his chest. If he ever did, Ivey would know for certain that hell had frozen over.

He looked at her now, those brown eyes assessing her, making her feel emotions she didn’t want to feel and have thoughts she didn’t want to have.

Like what a great kisser he was, taking his time and savoring every second. Taking his time with—everything.

“So did any of these guys get work?”

Ivey cleared her throat. That’s right, they’d been talking about her dates. What kind of a woman babbled on incessantly about who she’d dated in the past? A woman who didn’t know how to behave on a date any more, that’s who.

“I think so.” Subject change, quick. No more talking about failed serial dating and men who were more fascinated with themselves than they were with her. What a fine way to advertise. Not that she was here on a date.

Friends, Ivey. Friends.

*****

Jeff kept the smile in place, even if he didn’t want to hear about the idiots Ivey had dated in LA. Not exactly the best conversation if they were on an official date, which they weren’t. All the wishing in the world wouldn’t make it true.

Even if he couldn’t keep his eyes off Ivey, who was far more delicious than anything on his plate tonight. That said something, since Giancarlo cooked the best pasta carbonara in the valley, hands down.

But Ivey. He had a distinct memory of what she felt like in his arms—soft, but pliable with heat. Not shy and retiring like she looked by her outward appearance, always dressed in sundresses and jeans like the girl next door. No, with him she’d been bold and self-assured. Wild and uncensored. Angel and Vixen.

They were good together, and if she hadn’t left town the way she had, today everything in his life would be different. But by now he understood that he couldn’t control all outcomes. Not in the hospital, and not in his personal life. Some things were left to chance.

“Ready?” He pulled out his wallet.

“We’ll split it,” Ivey said, obviously wanting to make it clear this was no date. Just two friends going Dutch.

“No. This was my idea. Remember?” He stayed her hand, so soft and small under his, and man, it felt so good. The first time he’d touched her since she’d come home, and it only reminded him that he wanted more. Much more.

Bad idea, because she was looking at his hand over hers like she’d come upon a bear in the woods. Alone and helpless, like freaking Bambi.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “You win.”

If only that were true, but they were talking about the check.

In a few minutes he’d be dropping Ivey back off at the place where Ron the security guard couldn’t remember her name. Then he’d go home alone to his lonely bachelor pad. Now that Scott was off touring a baseball series with his brother Billy, he had a lot of quiet nights ahead of him.

It seemed a little odd to see the Channel 7 television van pulled up outside of the gated entrance, a newscaster speaking into a microphone.

“That’s strange,” Jeff said as he punched in the code he’d memorized.

Ivey held a hand to her mouth. “Oh no. I hope he hasn’t finally killed her.”

“Killed who?”

“Mr. Alfonso. They’re our neighbors, and I’ve heard him yell once or twice that he’s going to kill Mrs. Alfonso. Am I going to be called to the trial? I’m probably going to be the witness that says ‘yes, Your Honor, I heard him say he would kill her.’”

Apparently Ivey’s dates were not the only ones with a flair for drama. Maybe it had rubbed off on her with all those actors and lines. Mr. Alfonso was an over-excitable Italian who wouldn’t hurt a fly, and Jeff would bet those threats were Mr. Alfonso’s misguided idea of foreplay.

“Ivey, he’s an usher at St. Catherine’s. And this is Starlight Hill.”

She turned to him. “But murders happen everywhere. I see it on TV every Friday night.”

Jeff slowed down at the gate, where the guard wasn’t his usual stoic self. “Miss Iris—”

“It’s Ivey!” she shouted back to him. “What’s going on? Why are all those reporters in the front? Who got hacked up or shot?”

That’s it. Definitely too many crime shows. She ought to go to the nearest drug store and pick up a pack of cigarettes because they were the only killers he ever saw around Starlight Hill.

“No one got killed, Miss,” the security guard said, maybe finding it safe to not even attempt the name this time. “I’m sure it’s all a big mistake. But they’re waiting for you upstairs.”

“For me?” Ivey drew a shaky hand to her throat
,
and for the first time since she’d been back, every protective cell in his body resurrected itself. This was Ivey. Ivey, who regardless of the way she behaved in the bedroom with him, was a freaking Girl Scout.

“Who’s waiting for her?” he asked.

“The men from the FBI.”

Jeff still didn’t think Ivey had calmed down enough when they were inside the condominium, waiting for the elevator.

“Did you hear that? The FBI!” Maybe out of old habit, she leaned into him.

He snaked a supportive arm around her waist. “Calm down. It’s a mistake. That’s all it is.”

“A mistake.” She repeated, her eyes glazed over.

“Let’s go up.” Jeff more or less led Ivey into the elevator and up to the second floor.

There were indeed men in distinctive black suits with badges. No yellow caution tape. But a sign on the front door read:
Seized by Order of the United States Government.

The audible gasp from Ivey meant she’d read the sign as well.

A gray-haired agent stepped up to them, showing his badge. “Are you Lucy Cartwright?”

“No, that’s my Aunt. Is she okay? What’s happened to her?” Ivey clutched Jeff’s hand.

“Nothing, ma’am. As far as we know she’s fine. This property has been seized for payment of debts owed to investors by a Ben Cartwright.”

Jeff squeezed Ivey’s hand. Everyone in town realized Lucy’s last husband was under house arrest in New York City. The story Jeff had heard was that he’d been indicted in a Ponzi investment scheme. But if Lucy thought she’d walked away with this asset in their divorce, she’d obviously been mistaken.

“Didn’t Lucy Cartwright obtain this property in the divorce?” Jeff asked the man.

“It’s a common trick to pass over assets that way, but Cartwright’s not getting away with it.” The agent handed over paperwork to Jeff.

“If you’ve been staying here, we’ll give you time to get a few essentials. But you need to be out of here tonight.”

“Tonight?” Ivey squeaked out.

“Go find a hotel room somewhere. Maybe there’s someone you can stay with.”

“You might have noticed, it’s a small town and there are no hotels.” These guys were starting to piss Jeff off.

The agent shook his head like it wasn’t any of his problem. “Mr. Cartwright should have thought of that before he robbed his investors of their savings.”

Yeah, Jeff got it. He didn’t like Mr. Cartwright either.

“Those people need to get their money back, of course,” Ivey stammered out.

“Well, this will barely put a dent in it.” The man said abruptly and went to confer with the other agents.

Jeff pulled Ivey to the side. He hated to see her this way. Confused, hurt, frightened. Again, someone in Ivey’s life had hurt her. First her dad, who’d left Ivey and her mother when Ivey was ten. Her mother, dying in another small-town scandal when Ivey was eighteen. Even he’d let her down.

“Where am I supposed to go now?” The look on her face, like she’d been gutted, slayed him. Maybe because he deserved it, he punished himself with the thought she might have had the same look when he’d told her that he needed a break. A break from her. That’s how she would have heard it, when all he’d wanted was a tiny respite from the pressures of all the responsibilities.

“You can stay with me.”

After the words were out of his mouth, he couldn’t believe he’d said them out loud. But if nothing else, Ivey’s wide eyes clued him in that he actually had. Not the way he’d once pictured living with Ivey. It would have been better if she’d chosen to be with him instead of being rescued, yet he couldn’t see any other solution.

“With you?” Ivey asked, her right eyebrow twitching. She’d probably had one too many shocks tonight.

“I have an extra bedroom for a while.” It made perfect sense, as long as he didn’t think about it too much.

“I’m not going to be your roommate.”

“Great, because I don’t need one. Scott Turlock is my roommate, but he’s out of town for a few weeks. It’s temporary, until you get the job and find a place of your own.”

“I could stay with Brooke.” She worried a nail between her teeth and stared at the men in black.

“Seriously?”

“Don’t look at me that way. I know you two don’t like each other, but she’s still my best friend in the world.”

He liked Brooke fine, though he realized the feeling wasn’t mutual. Daredevils like her practically kept him in business, but he happened to know she lived in a complex of Victorian homes converted into studio apartments, and it gave new meaning to tiny. He’d looked at one of the apartments when he’d first come back. “That place is the size of a postage stamp. You’ll trip over each other in the hallway.”

“You’ve been there? To her place?” Ivey’s face reddened.

She couldn’t seriously think he and Brooke—was she jealous? “No, but I am an ER doctor and Brooke is—well, Brooke.”

“Stitches?”

Thank God, she believed him. “Stitches, x-rays.” He couldn’t, and shouldn’t, list all her injuries.

“She also has a boyfriend and I’d hate to be in their way. But wouldn’t I be cramping your style, or love life?”

What love life?
If she meant his sex life, that was one thing, but he hadn’t had a love life for years. He was looking at the extent of his love life right now, and it was pitiful that he couldn’t convince her to let him help.

“No, you won’t be.”

“It’s not a good idea. I need wide open spaces when I’m around you,” she added.

“It’s not like you have a lot of choices.”

“Wow. I’ve waited all my life to hear a guy tell me that.”

“C’mon, Ivey. Let me help. Stay the night and we’ll figure things out in the morning. You don’t have much time to decide, because this offer is going to be rescinded in about ten seconds. And then what will you do?”

“I’ll figure something out!” But she took another pointed look in the direction of the FBI. One thing you could say about those men was that they didn’t look friendly.

“Yeah, and there is the park. Of course, the bench isn’t very comfortable, and Burt won’t let you sleep on it. I tried.”

“Look, I don’t want to be any trouble.”

“Ten, nine, eight, seven . . . ” He began the countdown.

“Would you stop counting?”

“Five, four, three . . . ”

“Fine! If it will get you to shut up, I’ll stay with you. Temporarily.”

*****

What would the good people of Starlight Hill think of her now? What would Jeff think?

By way of marriage, she’d been related to a Ponzi scheme investor, which was bad enough, but now she’d been kicked out of her home. Practically in the middle of the night. Fine, the place would be sold and some of the investors paid off. That was only right and expected.

But now a bright light pointed to Lucy’s ex-husband and the last thing Ivey needed was that kind of an association. She was still repairing her image as a love ’em and leave ’em witchy woman.