Page 56 of Saving Ian Pope

Matt sucked in a quick breath, and I could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. “Are you saying there’s a chance?”

“There might be.” How long could I hold Matt off by dangling this prospect in front of him? At least it would make him drop the blackmail plan. “You know what Dad used to say. Every good con takes time to set up. Every mark has to be cultivated.”

“You’re all in now?” His voice had grown high with suspicion.

“I didn’t say I was all in, but what you said about his ex, kinda pissed me off. Sparked my competitive nature.” I licked my lips, tasting the salty air.

“Good, good. Dad always said you had all the elements of a successful shark. What’s the plan?”

“I’ll take it under consideration. Just don’t do anything stupid in the meantime. If I go down or you try to go at Ian Pope on your own, you’ll risk any chance, already slim, we might have.”

“Deal, but I’m not giving you much time. You could be conning me as we speak.”

“I could be.” The edges of my phone cut into my hand as I squeezed it. “If I can swing this, will you give me that flash drive?”

“I just might.” He coughed his raggedy smoker’s cough. “I don’t like holding anything over your head, sis. I almost forgot I had that old flash drive, but when I saw you with Ian Pope, I suddenly remembered. I wouldn’t do it if I wasn’t desperate. One more con for old time’s sake. It’ll be fun.”

When I ended the call, I sat on the bench, cupping my phone in my hands. Then I lumbered to my feet, feeling about ninety-years-old, and bought a ticket for the Ferris wheel. What did Matt say? For old time’s sake.

I returned home at about eleven o’clock to an empty house. Chloe and Diego must be having a good time. I left the light on for my roomie and got ready for bed. I dragged my laptop with me and searched the internet from one end to the other for any news about Ian with his ex. Had Matt just been messing with me?

I smoothed my hand over young Ian’s face on the pillow and glanced at the time on my laptop again. Still too early. Maybe I should’ve gone to that club to eat through the hours. I switched over to YouTube to watch videos and downed more Diet Coke, although I was already so wired, I didn’t need the caffeine to stay awake.

Finally, the clock hit one AM, and I reached for my phone. Jack Davies picked up on the first ring. “Ivy?”

“I’ll do it.”

Part II - London

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Chapter 19

IVY

By the time the wheels of my British Airways flight hit the tarmac at Heathrow Airport, I’d convinced myself I was Mother Teresa on a mission to save a lost soul. It had taken almost the entire ten-and-a-half-hour flight to get there, though. Even after my second glass of champagne in the first-class pod, courtesy of Penny Barrett, Ian’s assistant, I could still taste the betrayal on the back of my tongue.

I’d felt dirty working out the details of the arrangement with Jack, but when I’d asked Ian if he still wanted me and he told me to get on the next flight possible, I’d sloughed off all the filth and donned a halo.

I hadn’t just popped up out of the blue to call him. That might’ve seemed a little suspicious. Seeing info about “Muse,” the first single from the album, which listed my name on the writing credits, had offered me a good excuse to call him.

When he didn’t answer my call, I’d died inside a little, but then I sent him a text asking him to phone me back. He called late afternoon, which translated into late night for him. Had he drunk-dialed me?

He seemed sober as we danced around with small talk, asking about each other’s work, and he’d assured me his was cracking along. I thanked him for the song-writing credit, and then one thing led to another. I cried, totally from the heart, no faking needed and told him I missed him. He responded in a rough voice that he missed me, too.

That’s when I asked him, and here I was.

I’d never flown first class before and thought I might be able to sleep with all the space and amenities, but that hadn’t happened. Now, I rubbed sandpaper eyes and tried to smooth out my wrinkled shirt. I’d be making a pit stop in the airport bathroom to brush my teeth and hair and change from the shirt to a sweater. The sky looked dreary flying into the airport, but my mood was anything but.

I took my phone off airplane mode and texted Ian that I’d landed. I stared at the phone’s display until the response bubbles popped up.

Waiting for you out front

Butterflies swarmed in my belly, and I squeezed my eyes closed. I could do this. The most important thing right now was being with him and supporting him. I could compartmentalize the other stuff just like these pods in first class separated me from the other passengers. I could do a TED Talk on compartmentalization.

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