Page 24 of Saving Ian Pope

I was about to get to my feet, but another woman crouched beside me, thrusting her map and pen in my face. “Big fan of Five2Go. Do you ever talk to Sam? I’m sorry, but he was my favorite. You were my next favorite, though.”

Why did they always have to go there? “Haven’t spoken to him in a while, but he’s doing well, ain’t he?”

“I went to his concert two years ago. Hope he tours again soon.” She shoved her sunglasses into her hair, her gaze probing my face. “You haven’t been on tour for a while, have you?”

“Planning something for next year.” I handed the map back to her.

“That’s great. I’ll definitely go if you come to LA.” She leaned in close, cupping her hand around her mouth as if to tell me a big secret. “Sam may have been my favorite, but you always had the best voice and stage presence.”

“Well, thanks for that.” I reached for my sandwich. “You have a good rest of your day.”

As I prepared to unwrap my sandwich, I noticed two women huddled by the fountain where Ivy had retreated. One of the women pointed at me, and I braced for incoming traffic. This time I stood up. I didn’t like being on the ground when my fans approached me. I’d always had nightmares about getting trampled in my Five2 days.

I pasted on a smile as they walked toward me. My expression encouraged their tentative approach. Maybe I should just ignore them, but I couldn’t do that to my fans. They’d given me so much.

“Ian! Can we take a picture with you?” They were already fussing with their phones to get to their cameras.

“Sure, sure.” The taller of the two women came in for a hug, and I wrapped my arms around her while her friend took our picture. She then got her selfie.

They traded places, and the tall blonde took pics of me and her brunette friend, and then the friend took a selfie. All smiles.

As I handed her phone back to the shorter brunette, she flushed pink. “You know, we don’t believe all that stuff that was on social media the past few days.”

“Oh, uh, appreciate that.” My gaze darted to Ivy, still munching on her sandwich by the fountain, several feet away. “Enjoy the museum.”

They walked away, looking at their phones, and I made a beeline for Ivy, my head down. I didn’t need any more fan encounters today, especially not in front of Ivy. She didn’t seem to be much of a social media fan, which suited me perfectly, right now.

Hopping up on the fountain beside her, I said, “You didn’t have to run away.”

She studied me as she chewed. “Oh, yeah, I did. I melt into the background when they swarm you...and that’s exactly where I want to be.”

“I’m sorry.”

Waving her sandwich at me, she said, “Don’t apologize. You clearly enjoy it, and so do they. I’m not going to rain on anyone’s parade, but I don’t have to march along in it and get all wet. Do you want to check out the decorative arts or the drawings? We probably have time for just one.”

“Definitely drawings, but I need to eat my lunch first.” I peeled the tight plastic from my sandwich and took a few bites as Ivy scrolled through her phone. I hoped she hadn’t decided to check out the social media sites. I blurted out. “I have a song in my pocket.”

“Huh?” She jerked her head up and stashed her phone in her bag. “What’s that supposed to mean? Is that some British boyband code for a hard-on?”

I blew out a breath, relaxing my shoulders. “That painting of the duchess back there tweaked something in my imagination. Does it happen like that with your writing? Some image or headline starts you on a path of creativity?”

“Yeah, but usually my inspiration comes from tragic news stories and weird crimes. Must be nice to be inspired by beauty, instead.” She sidled closer to me so that our hips met.

We seemed to have complementary magnets installed in our bodies that drew us to each other—unless she was this touchy-feely with everyone. Her touch, her very presence soothed me. Did other things to me, as well, but she seemed to have the same need for physical contact with me as I did with her.

I bumped her hip. “Unfortunately, my motivation for songs doesn’t come only from the beautiful. There are enough songs of heartache and loss to tell you that.”

“I’d love to hear the song or read it, later, if you’re inclined to share.” She’d inched closer to me and entwined her pinkie finger around mine.

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” I balled up the paper from my sandwich and shot it into a trash can. “Let’s go check out those drawings.”

I was inclined to share a lot with Ivy...just not everything.

***

As Ivy navigated the freeway back to her place, she drummed her thumbs on the steering wheel in time to the music on the radio—oldies, of course. “I texted my roommate, Chloe, when we were at the museum to give her a heads-up.”

“Okay.” My hand tightened on my seatbelt. “Did she have any objections?”

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