Page 86 of Barre Fight
Em, 8:48am: Looks like yesterday was a success. How are you celebrating?
Before Ivy hit send on her reply, she sucked in a breath through her teeth, bracing herself.
Ivy, 8:48am: By preparing to quit my job.
Her phone rang almost immediately.
“Fuckingfinally,” Em said, before Ivy could even offer a greeting.
“What?” Ivy asked.
“Sorry, sorry. Let me try that again.” Em affected a faux-curious tone. “Wow, Ivy, I’m so surprised by this development. Tell me about how you arrived at this incredibly obvious decision.”
Ivy smiled and shook her head. “You were right, okay?”
“Say that again?” Ivy could picture Em tipping her head to the side and holding a hand up to her ear.
“I said, you were right. I rushed into this job because I was scared. It’s not a good fit for me. I don’t like PR. You were right, Em. You’re always right, I should never have doubted you, and I should always, always listen to you. And you have amazing taste in coats.”
“Alright, now you’re laying it on a bit thick,” Em said, audibly grinning. “This is a big deal, though. How do you feel about it? What are you going to do now?”
Ivy let out a breath. “I feel good about it, I think. It’s not like I’m going to quit tomorrow, or anything, though. I’m not going to do anything rash this time, I promise. But I’m going to start looking for something new. Maybe ghostwriting, or copywriting, or something else that leaves me some time and energy in the evenings and weekends for a while. Because I’m going to try to write a book.” She thought about what Justin had said when she’d told him yesterday, how certain he’d sounded of her success. But also how sure he’d sounded that, even if she didn’t succeed, that wouldn’t make her a failure. Her heart swelled and squeezed, leaving her slightly short of breath as she walked the final block to the bakery.
“Hell yeah you are,” Em whooped. “What about?”
“I’ll tell you more once I’ve had some breakfast,” Ivy said, joining the short line at the takeaway window of the bakery.
“Tell me now!”
Ivy scanned the menu, trying to figure out her order. “Hang on, it’s a long story,” she said vaguely, “and I want to make sure I get Justin the right bagel?—”
“Justin?” Em screeched so loudly that the woman in line in front of Ivy started. Ivy pulled her phone away from her ear andmouthed an apology at the woman, who shook her head and turned back around.
“Yes,” Ivy said in a hushed voice. She screwed her eyes up, fully prepared for Em to screech again when Ivy told her the truth. “Justin. I’m getting breakfast for Justin.”
“You’re getting breakfast for Justin,” Em deadpanned. “Is that because you had amidnight snackwith Justin last night? Did public relations finally turn into private relations?”
“Oh my god, how long have you been waiting to say that?” Ivy snorted.
“Oh, only since you took this job and started complaining about how infuriating he was. Babe, I’m a miserable corporate lawyer. We read a lot of romance novels, and I know enemies to lovers when I see it, okay? And then you texted me, telling me to tell you not to sleep with him? Come on. So you finally slept with him last night?”
“Um…” Ivy steeled herself. “Actually, it started a while ago.”
“I knew it! God, I just love being right. You did it in New York, didn’t you, just like I told you to! You fucked and chewed gum at the same time!”
Ivy laughed just as the woman in front of her turned around again and gave her a pointed look. “Sorry,” Ivy muttered with a wince. “Em, I have to go now. I’ll tell you everything later, okay?”
“With details! Details with interest!”
“Yes, okay, fine, goodbye,” Ivy said quickly, unable to keep the grin from her face. She could only imagine how Em would crow when Ivy told her that this wasn’t just… sex and working together. That the man Ivy had once vented to Em about was currently asleep in her bed, just like he’d been every morning for the last week. And that when his family went home and he went back to his apartment, she’d miss waking up next to him, his absurdly strong body wrapped around hers as bright morning sunshine crept into the room.
He was still asleep when she got back twenty minutes later, bagels and coffee in hand. She sat down carefully and propped her back against her pillow, but he stirred at the movement, rolling from his back to his side, his muscles shifting and sliding under his skin. He was so beautiful like this. Nothing he did on stage could compare to Justin half awake, shirtless and sleep-mussed, his eyes fluttering open and crinkling into a smile as he took her in.
“Good morning,” he croaked.
“Good morning. I brought bagels and coffee.”
“My hero,” he groaned dramatically.
