THE NEXT MORNING, Shelly opened the door to Ivy’s bedroom. “Still want to go shopping this morning?”
“Either that or I’m wearing what I have on to the party tonight,” Ivy replied. She wore her usual scuffed running shoes—not that she had run in years—along with blue jeans and a plain white shirt she’d bought years ago at J. Crew or Gap. She couldn’t remember which shop, except that it had probably been on clearance.
Shelly grimaced. “Can’t let that happen. Twenty minutes and we’re out of here.”
Ivy glanced at the clock. Anxiety prickled her neck; by the end of today, they would know why her mother had summoned them here. She’d hardly slept last night, worrying about her parents.
To keep her mind off her mother while she waited for Shelly, Ivy flipped open the book, The T-Shirt & Jeans Handbook, her sister had given her. The feeling that Bennett was awakening in her was spilling into other parts of her life. It had been a year since Jeremy’s death—a year of not caring what she looked like and reaching for the most comfortable clothes in her closet. If she managed to get out of bed.
Now, she had finally crawled out of her self-imposed exile and was rediscovering who she was without Jeremy and without their children. For the first time in her adult, post-college years, she was on her own and free to make her own decisions. It was also time she worked on her outer image. Although her dream of an inn would have to begin with iBnB room rentals, she planned to file the paperwork for the rezoning with the Summer Beach zoning department. She would need to launch a campaign to win over neighbors, too. For all that, she would need to look and feel her confident best.
Turning a page, Ivy studied the photographs. She saw how easy it looked to change from plain to pulled-together. The author had a few tips Ivy hadn’t thought of. The right jacket, some fashionable jewelry, a stylish scarf. Nice shoes—maybe even a heel—and an interesting handbag. The look was comfortable and stylish. Not too intimidating, but she would have to make a conscious effort.
She dug through the meager wardrobe she’d thrown into her suitcase. Jeans, white shirts, a couple of lightweight cardigan sweaters, and loafers. On the dresser, she spied the coral and turquoise necklace her mother had given her that she’d meant to return. On impulse, she looped it over her head. The white shirt she wore framed it well, and she decided to go with it. She’d already given the coral sundress to Shelly.
Next, Ivy kicked off her running shoes and slid her feet into the jeweled kitten heel shoes her mother had let her wear. She added one of the lightweight cardigan sweaters she’d brought. Then she finished the ensemble with the right lipstick and blush, along with a touch of mascara.
Ivy was surprised at how little effort it had taken, but as she surveyed herself in the old mirror, she was surprised at the effect. A good haircut and fewer pounds would make a big difference, too, but this was a pleasing start.
Shelly sashayed in wearing the yellow sundress Carlotta had given her. “Wow,” she said, taking in Ivy’s new look. “You look great.”
“Not too much?” Ivy wondered if the necklace was too eye-catching or the lipstick too bright.
“Not at all.”
“I’ve been reading the book you gave me. If I’m going to be running an inn or an iBnB property and welcoming guests, I need to look presentable.”
“This makeover wouldn’t have anything to do with Bennett, would it?”
Ivy’s heart quickened. “It’s not really a makeover,” she said, a little flustered at Shelly’s insinuation. “Just an update.”
With a smug expression, Shelly folded her arms. “If you say so. During the meeting with the FBI agents, Bennett could hardly take his eyes off you.”
“I didn’t see anything like that.”
“Because you were avoiding him, but not exactly like you used to when you couldn’t stand him. Something’s changed.” Shelly narrowed her eyes. “Is anything going on between you two?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ivy said, picking up her purse. “Let’s go.”
When they stepped outside, Ivy noticed a dark sedan parked in front of the house. A patrol car was parked across the street. She turned to Shelly. “Coincidence?”
“Doubt it,” Shelly said. “Looks like reinforcements.”
“They’re serious about this situation.”
As they walked to the Jeep, a large SUV slowed in front of the house.
“Well, well. Looks like even more company,” Shelly said with a smile dancing on her face.
Bennett stepped from the car. He wore running shorts and looked like he’d been up early for a jog. “Good morning. I was just passing by. How’s it going here?”
Though he was pleasant enough, Ivy saw lines of worry around his eyes—once she lifted her gaze from his muscular legs, that is.
She nodded toward the other two cars. “Is there a meeting we didn’t know about?”
“Looking out after our residents,” Bennett said. “You ladies going to be gone long?”
“As long as it takes to make me presentable for my mother’s big party tonight,” Ivy said.
“That shouldn’t take much time,” he said.
Ivy arched a brow. “I beg your pardon?”
Bennett drew a hand over his stubbled chin. “I mean, you already look nice. All dressed up.” Seeming self-conscious, he quickly changed the subject. “The FBI agents told me they plan to conduct the removal on Monday. Then your life should return to normal.”
Ivy laughed at the thought. “I haven’t known what normal is for a long time.”
Hesitating for a moment, Bennett shifted on his feet. “Listen, there’s something I should tell—”
“Sorry, we’re running late,” Ivy said, suddenly conscious of the way he was looking at her, especially after what Shelly had said before they left. Feeling a hot rush of blood to her face, she turned to hide her embarrassment over her attraction to him. For heaven’s sake, she was acting like a teenager.
Composing herself, Ivy added, “Thanks for stopping by.” She slid into the Jeep and shut the door, grateful for the barrier between them.
Giving her an odd look, Shelly got into the passenger side.
Bennett held up a hand for her to stop, but Ivy just waggled her fingers.
“Why did you cut him off?” Shelly asked. “Don’t you think that was rude?”
“I can’t think about Bennett right now.” She turned the ignition and stepped on the gas pedal. Her mind was flooded with thoughts of her mother, the FBI, and finishing the house to make it suitable for renters.
Ivy set her jaw. Bennett Dylan had no business taking up headspace. Not now, not ever.
Shelly turned to her in triumph. “But you couldn’t miss the looks he was giving you.”
“Must have been the new outfit.”
“Not those kind of looks,” Shelly said. “But that didn’t hurt.”
After four boutiques, three hours, and countless steps, Ivy finally found a long, casual dress that was suitable for the party and in keeping with the beach theme. As she emerged from the dressing room, she held it up in triumph.
“Finally ready for tonight,” she said to Shelly, who clapped her hands.
Ivy caught the sales clerk’s attention, and the woman wrapped up her purchase. Ivy ran her hand across her ensemble, feeling good about it—and better about herself than she had in ages. Violet and white lilies splashed across a thin black jersey dress that skimmed her hips. A slit to the knee showed off her still-slender ankles—her best feature right now, she’d joked with Shelly. A lightweight black knit sweater covered the dress’s thin straps and hid her muffin-top middle and back cleavage.
“As soon as we open our doors, and rooms are rented, I plan to join a gym, or at least start taking power walks on the beach.” She had to start exercising again—if not to lose weight, at least to tone up what she had.
“Why wait until then?” Shelly asked. “Before I write my blog in the morning, I do half an hour of yoga. Join me, or we can walk on the beach. You’ll be much more energized.”
“Start waking me when you get up.” Recalling the exercise-related adrenaline and endorphin rush she’d always enjoyed, Ivy told herself she was going to start with a morning beach walk. Maybe she’d find inspiration for her painting, too.
Ivy decided it was time she started embracing life again, and a brisk walk in the morning would lift her spirits. She used to do that when she was younger. Where had the years gone?
By the time they returned to the house, it was time to dress for the party, since Carlotta had insisted that they arrive early. Outside, the dark sedan was still at its post. As they walked inside, Ivy’s nerves were on edge, and Shelly was quieter than usual.
“I’m sure all Mom’s friends will come,” Shelly said.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Ivy asked.
“About Mom’s health?”
Ivy nodded.
“You usually worry enough for both of us, but I’m concerned, too.” Shelly shut the door behind them and touched Ivy’s arm. “We’ll face this together. All of us, as a family.”
Ivy hugged her sister, thankful that they’d made up. “I can’t wait to see Honey and Gabe, too.”
“Gabe’s been good for Honey.” Shelly blinked hard, and her gaze drifted away. “Maybe someday I’ll find a good guy like him. How do you know at the beginning?”
“A feeling, I guess.” Ivy knew she was thinking not about Ezzra, but about Mitch. “And maybe a background check.”
Shelly rolled her eyes. “For sure. You’d think I’d know better, having lived in New York all this time.”
“There’ll be others.”
“That’s the problem,” Shelly said as she started up the stairs. “There always are. But I only want The One, wherever the heck he is.”
Ivy nodded. How well she understood. Brightening, she said, “Maybe he’ll be at the party tonight.”