The Ivy House

chapter 25

Phoebe awoke from a pleasant dream. It took her a moment to orient herself. And then she blushed. She had been having one of those dreams. Her face and body felt warm, suffused with blood, and there was an ache between her legs. It came back to her in bits and pieces, the dream, flashes of a dark head and blue eyes, the almost real feeling of his lips on hers, his hands stroking her, arousing her.

She pulled the covers up and buried her face into them. Oh God, she thought, I am turning into a horny teenager. The idea that an imaginary Chase Sanders, with his arrogant grin and big sexy hands, could have done that to her was just too much.

Before she could think more about it, her phone buzzed. Reaching for it, she tamped down disappointment when she recognized the number.

“Dean,” Phoebe said, hoping the embarrassment didn’t come across in her voice.

“Well, it seems like you have been a busy little bee,” he said. It was cheerful, but Phoebe detected an undercurrent of disapproval.

“Oh,” she said, grasping for words. She had left the window up and cool morning air filtered in, bringing her heart rate back to normal. The wild dream of last night receded.

“You saw the press release?” Phoebe had allowed Chase and his team to issue one. A brief notice that North Coast Outfitters and Ivy Lane Designs were collaborating on a new collection. Luckily, no one would pick up on the connection between her and Chase. But still it was out there, a flag in the sand, so to speak, that Phoebe was declaring for herself.

“Yes, I wish you had told me. I would have been happy to negotiate on your behalf,” Dean said smoothly. Phoebe heard the clink of china and realized that Dean was already up, fully up, even though it was still very early on the West Coast.

“Well, thanks for the thought, but I did OK,” Phoebe said. The terms had seemed fair enough; but then, she hadn’t really asked for more, pushed, seen how much Chase was willing to give her. Dean was like a shark; he would never have acted that way on behalf of his client.

“Glad to hear. It’s a good thing,” he said, “I suppose. I am still working on wearing CallieSue down and knowing that you’ve moved on might be just the thing to make her want you back.”

“Dean,” Phoebe began. In truth, she hadn’t thought once about losing the job to work on CallieSue’s new line of country accessories and home goods. She had been too focused on and excited about her own business and designs to think about anyone else’s.

“I know, I know, you said to leave it be. I wasn’t sure that heading out there was such a good idea, but who knew you would sign a business deal.” He laughed again, but Phoebe had the sense he was dodging the point. Dean was probably sitting in his ultra-modern apartment, high up, with a commanding view of the city.

“Well, I think it’s good for me. The house is wonderful,” Phoebe hedged. It still needed a lot of work, but she was getting there. “And I’ve been feeling really creative, full of energy.” Inspired, though Phoebe didn’t say that.

“Well, I just want you to be careful, my dear. I checked a bit on the company you’ve signed on with. I hope you aren’t dealing directly with the president, a Chase Sanders. He seems to have quite the reputation for himself.”

Phoebe felt herself bristle at the implied warning. “He’s not anything like the papers make him out to be…” she began, and then realized that she didn’t know him that well at all.

“Ahh, so it was a personal deal,” Dean said. “Listen, Phoebs, you know I am just looking out for you. I don’t want you to get taken advantage of again.” He said it gently, kindly and Phoebe felt her irritation slip away. Dean really did look after her; he always had.

“I know, I know,” Phoebe acknowledged. “And it’s just business, nothing like it was with Garrett. I mean, I have nothing to offer him besides my pillows.”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone and Phoebe waited, hoping that Dean wouldn’t say anything that would make it awkward between the two of them.

“Well, I am sure you know what you’re doing. And, well, now that you have a new job, I’m sure you’ll be back here soon working again.”

Phoebe laughed with him, not having the heart to tell him that she wasn’t sure whether she was going back. She could work wherever she wanted to, at least for a while, and the thought of not hopping on a plane and heading back to Los Angeles was becoming more and more appealing.

<<>>

Her morning, after the phone call with Dean, went well. At least she meant it to, having every intention to focus on work. She’d made a great start on the collection for North Coast Outfitters, but she was fiddling with the first designs, doing her best to get them perfect. Memorable. Unforgettable.

“Don’t be alarmed.” Jake, the floor guy, popped up in front of her, a bacon-and-egg sandwich in one hand and the other hand clutched around a steaming cup of coffee. Phoebe was so startled she almost dropped the empty mug of coffee that she had been on her way to refill.

“Is there a problem?” Phoebe asked. Chase strolled in right behind Jake, hands stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, looking totally at ease in a leather jacket. He had on his expensive sunglasses, which he removed as his dark eyes gazed around the place.

“We’re almost done,” Jake said to Phoebe’s unanswered question. “I know it still looks bad, but this is a messy job. I need another two days for the upstairs. And then you can really start to move in.”

One more night. Lynn’s mother had offered her the guest bedroom on a permanent basis while the floors were being done, but so far, she’d been able to stay in the house. Jake, since he was Chase’s floor guy, was giving her a deal, which meant he worked on her house in between his other jobs.

“It looks beautiful.” Chase gestured towards the living room. Phoebe had picked the darker stain. The wood had been restored beautifully and the floors gleamed, looking sharp and clean. Unfortunately, it only made the paint look more dingy. Phoebe wanted to take her time picking colors, and this way she could live in the house and restore it at the same time.

“Really, it does,” Phoebe agreed. She supposed another night at the Masters’ home was a small price to pay for perfect hardwood floors.

“Great.” Jake took another bite of his sandwich and spoke around a mouthful. “Why don’t the two of you get out of here so we can finish up?”

Phoebe couldn’t help herself, gazing up the stairs, to the landing, and the attic piled high with the remnants of Savannah’s life.

“Don’t even think about,” Jake said, watching her gaze. “You can’t walk up there.”

Phoebe laughed and held up her hands in mock surrender. “OK, I get it. I’ll get out.”

She thanked Jake and walked out the door into a beautiful spring day. She sensed Chase’s presence behind her, but did not turn.

“So, fancy going for a sail?”

“A what?” Phoebe turned and looked at Chase. He was making a habit of just showing up and she could see he was serious, completely serious.

“A sail. You said you liked boats. Mine happens to be at the marina, and it’s a beautiful spring day, with a nice breeze. There’s a deli that will make us some nice sandwiches, a couple of sodas, maybe a glass of wine?”

“Are you sure this isn’t just a chance for me to check out your sheets?”

Chase smiled, and she felt heat shoot through her. “As I was trying to tell you that night, I think there’s a gap in the market. Boat sheets are boring, bland. And you, I mean, your designs seem anything but.”

“So it’s another business meeting?” Phoebe challenged.

“We boaters like to call it a pleasure cruise.” He was joking, a cheesy-looking leer on his face. He topped it off with a wink and Phoebe had to laugh. But she felt her breath hitch and flame of desire lick through her as she gave serious consideration to the fact that she would be alone on a boat with him.

“Is it going to rain?” The sky was clear, but she could see a sort of haze settling over the harbor.

“Not until much later. Right now, it’s a great day out.” He’d pushed back his sunglasses so she could see his eyes gazing down at her, and she knew he wanted her to say yes. Phoebe hesitated for a moment, her brain screaming at her to say no, that she should go find someplace to hunker down, open up her laptop, do some work, but her body was sizzling with electricity, the thrill of being near Chase, of wanting to be near him.

“Fine. But I get to steer,” Phoebe said.