Page 50 of Decked Out with Ivy

The windshield wipers swiped away the snow as quickly as it fell. He focused on Jim’s words, trying to conjure up as much faith as possible. His cell rang, and his heart stopped for a moment as he slipped it out of his coat pocket. He hoped to see Ivy’s name on the screen, but disappointment settled in when it wasn’t.

“Ronnie,” he said as soon as she said hello. “How the hell did that story get out?” He tried to keep his tone even, but the frustration and anger rushed to the surface.

Ronnie was the only person he told.

“I called them,” she said matter-of-factly, and he could almost feel the knife stabbing into his back. “It was too good not to share.”

Disappointment and anger swelled inside of him and slammed together. “Ronnie, that was personal. It wasn’t meant for anyone else. I’m going to lose her because something that was supposed to be special has turned into the latest headline. I gave her something from the heart, and you took it away from her.”

There was silence on the other end, and he almost thought Ronnie hung up on him, but then he heard her breath rustle against the phone.

“Cody, I’m sorry. I didn’t think beyond your career, and I should have.”

“Ivy thinks I did it all for the story and not because I love her.”

“Wait… You love her?” Ronnie exclaimed.

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, boy,” he could hear the smile in her voice. “This is the stuff you’re made for. Big screen moment. Find the girl. Make it memorable. And I better get an invite to the wedding.”

“I need to find her first.”

“You will.”

Chapter 19

Ivy sat at the kitchen table in her childhood home, knitting a new pair of mittens. The pair she’d been wearing were the same as the ones Cody bought, and she didn’t want anything that reminded her of him. She inhaled, taking in the scent of sugar cookies. Mom and Aunt Claire had been baking all day, and Ivy offered to be a taste tester.

Normally she’d help crack eggs, dump flour, and cut out shapes, but she wasn’t feeling very Christmassy. She really wanted to curl into a ball on her couch, eat a pound of chocolate, and cry into her blanket, but she refused to shed another tear. It was her favorite time of year, and she wasn’t going to let Cody take that away from her. Not after he took her heart and stomped on it.

It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Yearspilled out of the speakers, and Ivy couldn’t help but think, was it? It sure as hell didn’t feel like it anymore. She almost gasped at where her mind was. Nothing could ever dim her Christmas spirit. Not until Mr. Three Hundred Dollar Jeans walked into her shop.

“Honey,” Mom said. “Don’t you think maybe you overreacted?”

Ivy scoffed. “No, I don’t. The movie. The whole story. He was opening up to me. It was meant for me and me alone. Sharing it with the world cheapened the moment. Cheapened everything about it.”

“Are you sure it was him who leaked it?” Aunt Claire asked.

There were no paparazzi that night, proof by the lack of images that accompanied the articles. The only way the tabloids would have known was if he’d told them.

“According to him, the only other person who knew was Felix, who he tried blaming, by the way. Can you imagine?Sweet, innocent Felix?” She laughed at the absurdity. That boy would never sell anyone out.

Her mind drifted to that movie theater. The way Cody had taken her hand and kissed her forehead. How they’d shared popcorn and candy as they’d cuddled together in front of the big screen. She couldn’t believe that in less than twenty-four hours, everything would change.

“I think you should hear him out,” Mom said.

“Why? So he can lie some more?”

Mom’s head tilted. Her eyes taking on that disappointed glaze. She hadn’t seen that look since she and Poppy spilled nail polish on the carpet. “Did you look at him when he spoke? Look to see if you could see his heart?”

Ivy thought back to the conversation. It was all a blur. But maybe she didn’t. She was hurt and afraid he’d turn on that actor charm.

“That’s a no,” Aunt Claire said.

“What’s a no?” Rome came into the kitchen, immediately taking a cookie off the cooling rack and popping the entire thing into his mouth.

Aunt Claire swatted him with a dish towel. “Those are not for you.”

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