The Ivy House

chapter 4

“You’re Savannah’s granddaughter,” he said, as if everything came together.

“Who did you think I was?” Phoebe asked with real curiosity. In Los Angeles, the recognition was almost immediate mostly because people there knew their celebrities, even the older ones.

“Well, I told you, you looked like someone. I didn’t realize Savannah still owned the property, that’s all. I’ve been sending offer letters to a lawyer in New York the past couple of years and getting pretty strong nos.”

“So you thought you’d take your chance with the new girl in town,” Phoebe said, wondering just how outraged she should feel.

“I always like to make newcomers feel welcome.” He had inched closer and the cocky grin was back.

Warning signals chimed in Phoebe’s head. She was in no condition to have anything to do with a man like this. He was all male and obviously a huge flirt. Definitely not what she needed right now.

“Well, very thoughtful of you, but like I said, the house is not for sale and I have some work to do.”

He looked around again at the dusty floor and the empty room.

“I’m sure you do. Still, I think you should consider my offer. I’d be happy to take the house off your hands, as is. You wouldn’t have to do a thing to it. You could be back on a plane and back to your life by tomorrow.”

“Listen, Mr….” Phoebe realized that she had never gotten his name.

“Please call me Chase. All my friends do,” he said with another one of his grins. Phoebe had the feeling that Chase was the kind of guy with plenty of friends. And she had no intention of becoming one of them.

“Why are you so interested in the place?” she asked.

For the first time, she saw that he hesitated, his feet doing a little dance. “Let’s just say the property has always spoken to me.”

Phoebe looked at him. With the broad shoulders and the constant grin, Phoebe didn’t think Chase looked like the kind of guy that let anything but tall blondes speak to him, but she supposed you never could tell. But that wasn’t her problem. Ivy House had also spoken to her, and she wasn’t about to let the legacy Savannah had left her go so easily.

“Well,” he said after a moment, when he realized that Phoebe wasn’t going to say anything else, “it was nice to meet you, miss…”

It was her turn to hesitate, though she supposed it didn’t matter. All he needed was the internet. He could find out anything else he wanted to on the internet.

“Phoebe Ryan.” She couldn’t be invisible, not if she expected to spend any amount of time in Queensbay. Word was bound to get out.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you. And I’m sorry for your loss.” She gave a quick nod. It had been almost six weeks since Savannah had died, but it was the sympathy from strangers that still got her. She managed to blink away the tears that were forming.

“Here, please take the envelope. Like I said, it’s a good offer. More than fair and, well, you’ll be getting more of them, so I just want to make sure that you have mine.”

“Listen, I told you,” Phoebe started, her anger quickly replacing her tears.

“I know, Ivy House isn’t for sale,” Chase said, his face serious now. “But just in case.”

He practically shoved it into her hand and she had no choice but to accept it. She gritted her teeth as she took it, their hands brushing, and she felt an unfamiliar thrill of electricity run through her at his touch. Chase must have felt it too because he looked at her and time seemed to halt for a moment, and then Phoebe became hyperaware of everything around her. The small settling sounds of the house, the chirps of the birds outside, the gentle sway of the branches.

Then the moment broke because he picked up her hand, brought it gently to his lips, and said, “Perhaps you’ll come around. Until we meet again.”

He dropped her hand finally and brushed past her on his way out the door. She heard the fluttering sound of more plaster falling as he walked down the hallway. Reluctantly, she trailed after him and watched him as he strolled with his hands stuck in his pockets, whistling as he made his way out the front door, down the steps, out onto the path, and through the rickety gate. He turned once, gave a wave, and then kept walking. Phoebe watched him go and then found herself leaning against the wall, hearing the whisper of dust as it fell down behind her.

She had no intention of selling Ivy House, at least not anytime soon, but she couldn’t get the wild thoughts out of her head, thoughts of how it would have felt if she had stretched upwards a little farther and let her lips brush against Chase’s face and feel his perfectly-formed lips upon hers.