The Ivy House

chapter 38

Chase felt no better after yelling at his PR director. Sam Waterstone had sworn the story hadn’t been entirely his doing. It was too good an opportunity to pass up, and Chase had never objected before when a picture of him and a date showed up online or in the papers. So, Sam had given in and now the media had it, and they loved the parallel between Chase and Phoebe and Leland and Savannah. In fact, all of America loved the parallel, from what Chase could see.

Chase refused all requests for an interview, which he knew might only make the story grow faster. But he didn’t know what else to do. He knew if he said anything, his words would be twisted, and the media would make his relationship with Phoebe into a big deal. He didn’t want her getting the wrong idea. He didn’t want her to think he was in it just for the benefit to his bottom line.

Chase swung around in his office chair, thinking about Phoebe. The way she had looked at him, a look full of betrayal. She had told him how much she hated being used because of her connection with Savannah. How she wanted to make a name for herself, on her own. And now it seemed as if he was doing just that for his business because sales had gone up fifty percent since the story broke, and Chase knew that this was the kind of exposure that would cost millions of dollars to buy. And here he had it because of a few pictures of him and Phoebe kissing.

He looked again at those. Someone had gotten them with a long-range lens, a picture of a heated embrace, in front of Ivy House. And then, of course, the reporter had dug up another picture of Leland and Savannah in almost the same pose, in almost the exact same place. Chase hadn’t wanted to read the comments section, but he did and stopped when he saw red. Had people no sense of decency? He wanted to punch some of these guys for what they were saying about Phoebe. It was complimentary, but lewd. Didn’t they know she was taken?

But was she? She had all but kicked him out this morning. And all he had wanted to do was help her paint. Or let other people do it while he took her for another sail. There was a side creek he had wanted to explore, and he thought he could convince her to enjoy a lazy afternoon of sun and other things.

Would she let him back in? Could he convince her that this hadn’t been his doing? Or that it was to her benefit? Every story mentioned her designs and she would have to benefit from all the press too. Chase checked his phone. He had left her half a dozen messages, but she hadn’t returned any of them. Anymore messages and he would be considered a stalker. He got up. Sitting in his office wasn’t doing any good. He needed to go fix things.