Page 37 of Worth the Rush
I take an extra-long moment to appreciate her. She’s wearing a purple corduroy coat with a wool collar, tan pants, and a sweater that’s also tan but lighter. Her boots are like theones I got Florence for her birthday a couple of months ago. They won’t be keeping the snow out. My baby sister balked when I brought that up to her, insisting they were worn for aesthetics. Whatever that means. I lean across the bench seat and swing the passenger door open for her. It feels like a win, and I have to hide my grin when she gets in without commenting on it.
“Where to first?” Ivy asks, stirring me from my victory.
“We’ll head into town to pick up Hazey from Knox’s office. I thought I would take her by Winnie’s bakery to get her a hot chocolate before we head to the shops. Does that work for you?”
“Yeah.” I look over to her smiling at me. It looks sweet. I like that look. I want her to look at me like that more often. “What’s that face for?” I grin into my question.
“Nothing,” she says, sobering slightly. “You’re just like some kind of super uncle, aren’t you?” She shrugs it off, but I can tell she’s a little surprised by my love for my family. That thought leads me to believe she doesn’t feel the same way about her family.
“You don’t have any nieces or nephews then?”
“Nope. I’m an only child, and my dad was one also, so no cousins either.” She runs her shiny green fingernails up and down the sides of her legs. A nervous habit, maybe. I can tell that talking about her family sets her on edge. She’s fidgety, and I don’t know her well, but fidgeting isn’t a word I’d use to describe Ivy. Most of the time, I get the impression she’s sure of herself because she’s had to be. I respect her for that, but I also wish she knew that leaning on others isn’t the sign of weakness she makes it out to be.
“Only child, huh? What that must be like. With my twobrothers and a baby sister, you haven’t met her yet, there was always someone around while I was growing up,” I tell her in hopes she’ll keep being open.
“I wouldn’t know about any of that. There was no noise in the house I grew up in.” I don't miss the way she says house and not home.
“That sounds a little lonely.” She surprises me with a little breathy laugh.
“It wasn’t all that bad. Don’t feel sorry for me.” She snorts. “I had everything I ever wanted. You’ve obviously sensed that about me,” she says, holding her hand out between us. Her comment throws me a little.
“What is it that I’ve sensed about you?” I’m curious to know what she’s thinking.
“Oh, come on. Don’t act like you don’t think I’m a spoiled brat and like you haven’t thought it from the very first time we interacted. I know what you must have thought. If I’m being honest, I also know that I wasn’t having the best day or week or month or year.” She mumbles the last bit, but I hear her perfectly.
“I admit to thinking your attitude was a little high and mighty. High maintenance?—”
“I am high maintenance,” she cuts in. “I’m not ashamed to say that.”
“You don’t need to be. There’s nothing wrong with demanding to be treated in a way you want to be treated,” I say, and I wish I could see her while I’m talking to her. Ivy’s hard to read even when you can see her face. I’m completely in the dark here.
“I don’t think so, Mr. Holloway,” she hedges, “but you know, someone at school keeps calling meprincess.” I laugh.Loudly. Her smart mouth is so sexy. Out of the brief exchanges I’ve had with Ivy, I know she has this quick and dry sense of humor, and even though it’s new, it feels like my exact brand. I want her to tease me. I want her to be mean to me. As long as she’ll keep talking to me.
“I’m not going to pretend like I don’t think you’re a brat, Ivy.” She doesn’t respond, so I continue, “You are, but that’s not why I started calling you that.” We’ve reached downtown, so I slow down and take the last few turns to Knox’s office. She sighs.
“I’m assuming you’re going to tell me, even though I bet I can guess. Maybe because I was a bitch on the bunny hill that day. I know that. You know that. I get it. I don’t often make a good impression. I wouldn’t say I always make the best first impression but chewing you out because you were trying to make sure a small child didn’t get hurt or sick…I’ve made better impressions, believe it or not.” God, I think I love it when she’s rambling, even if she refuses to bring up our actual first meeting. Her rambling gives me an inside track to her brain, and I want to be there more than anything.
“You weren’t a bitch, Ivy, and to be even more fair, I tackled you to the ground.” I laugh, and she joins me. We get quiet, and I park on the street in front of the office. I don’t need to tell her why, but I want to. I don’t want her to think anything other than good things when she hears me call her that. “The reason I called youprincess,” I say into the silence, heart beating out of my chest, “is because from the moment you stepped into AJ’s and sat down next to me, you could have ordered me to do anything, Ivy. I was yours to command. Sit. Stand. Lie Down. I would have done it. In a heartbeat.”
“Iwas yours to command.”
I replay that little,huge,comment over and over again in my mind as Alder chats with Knox, and they get the car seat settled into the backseat. I wave at Hazel, who’s in her dad’s arms. He’s holding her up on his hip, instructing Alder what to do and what to absolutely not do while Hazel is in his care.
“You don’t take your eyes off her for a second,” Knox threatens Alder.
“Like that’s possible. Look at her,” he replies, smiling and reaching for his niece. She babbles something, but I catch Muncle Aldie in there somewhere. I grin. They have such a fun sibling relationship. I wonder what my life would have been like if I would have had a sibling of my own. We probably would have hated each other or competed for Daddy’s attention. That neither of us would have gotten.
With Hazel strapped safely into her car seat, we are driving out to the Holloway family home. Shopping was more fun thanI thought it would be. Spending time with Alder has also proven to be more fun than expected. Seeing him with his niece is turning my hard and sharp edges into a pile of ooey gooey feelings. I flip my visor down to check my face, hoping I won’t find evidence of the mall pretzel I devoured in thirty seconds. In the mirror, I see Hazel in her seat. She’s kicking her little feet and looking at her second hot chocolate, the one that Knox said was not allowed.
My heart squeezes looking at her. She really is such a lovely little girl. I can see why the Holloway family fights over her affections. The emotion that stirs up is painful, but at the same time, knowing how cared for Hazel is loosens something in my chest. I don't need a therapist to tell me I have daddy issues. I’ve had a therapist tell me that, but I didn't need to spend the thousands of dollars I have to know that’s where the heart of all my issues stems from. Poor Ivy, a rich girl who grew up in a big house with any material thing or comfort she could ever dream up. How very on-brand…but money doesn’t equate to love.
In fact, I’ve found the opposite to be true 100 percent in my life. My father doesn’t love me, and my mother left me with him before I was eating solid foods. So it’s a double whammy in the issues department.
I wouldn’t have made a good mother anyway.
A derisive snort escapes me, and Hazel’s chocolate-brown eyes meet mine. I smile and she smiles shyly back to me. Impulsively, I stick my tongue out to the side and widen my eyes at her, and she giggles the sweetest giggle that makes one bubble out of me.
Alder turns his head toward me with a wide smile curving his perfect lips. “What’s so funny, girls?”
