The car sailed smoothly along as the CEO maneuvered easily in and out of traffic, even while talking business and making decisions on the fly.
Her bags were sitting in the back seat and Ivy still couldn’t believe that Cullen had actually insisted that she come and stay with him for the weekend. Not to mention, the fact that he was taking the day off work to watch over her.
She sighed, smiling a little at this strange turn of events.
But the smile died on Ivy’s lips when she looked in the side mirror on the passenger door and thought she saw a black sedan tailing them, with Lucas in the driver’s seat.
She sat up straighter and looked more closely. But then she realized it wasn’t Lucas after all, and her breathing slowed.
Cullen was off the phone now. “Everything okay?” he asked.
She nodded, sitting back in her seat and trying to relax. It had just been a trick of her imagination. Lucas wasn’t tailing them like some ridiculous Hollywood movie.
Except, she knew it wasn’t that ridiculous. Someone had taken those pictures and texted her this morning, along with the threatening messages.
“I’m just tired,” she said.
“Do you have a headache? Any nausea?” Cullen instantly replied.
Ivy giggled a little at his caution. “No, Cullen. I don’t have a head injury. I just bumped it a little.” She touched the back of her head and winced from the pain. The bump there was pretty big. She’d hit it good.
“You can rest when we get to my place,” he said. “I’ll make you some food and set you up with everything you need to be comfortable while you recuperate.”
“Okay,” she sighed, giving into his insistence that she needed recovery time from her fainting spell.
The truth was that she felt mostly fine, other than the sore noggin. What was bothering her had little to do with the fall and everything to do with the reason she’d passed out in the first place.
As they pulled up to the reserved parking spot in front of Cullen’s building, he swore under his breath.
Ivy followed his perturbed gaze and saw a woman sitting on his front steps, smoking a cigarette. It was the woman she’d seen fleeing his apartment the other day in the early morning hours.
“Who is that?” Ivy asked, glancing at him to see his reaction.
Cullen’s face was impassive, his expression unreadable. But his eyes had hardened into ice once more. “Nobody you need to worry about,” was all he said as he parked.
When they got out of the car, Cullen went and grabbed the bags from the backseat and then told Ivy to walk with him. “Just stay with me,” he said softly. “And no matter what she says, ignore her.”
As he gave these instructions, the woman put out her cigarette and started towards them. “I need to talk to you,” she said, her voice pleading. She was wearing a very chic dark coat and sunglasses, and her hair was pulled tightly back in a ponytail. “Please, don’t ignore me.” Her voice broke in midsentence.
Cullen walked stiffly forward, motioning for Ivy to stay close. He didn’t respond to the woman.
Ivy couldn’t help but look at her. Was she an ex-lover? If so, why was Cullen behaving so heartlessly towards her?
The woman raised her voice, stepping in front of them now on the walkway. She pulled her sunglasses off and Ivy was alarmed to see the dark circles and bags beneath her eyes. It seemed to add two decades to the woman’s age.
“It’s getting worse,” the woman said to Cullen. “If you won’t help, I don’t know what else to do. You have to at least try. Please, help me. Please.”
Cullen didn’t respond, but she wouldn’t move. Finally, he addressed her in a formal sounding tone. “Move aside. I will call the police if you continue harassing me.”
“Why won’t you even try? Why do you act as if it all means nothing to you? Are you really as cruel and uncaring as they say?” she asked.
“I told you to move.” He stared at her for a long while, and she reluctantly stepped aside.
“I’m going to wait here day and night until you acknowledge me.”
“Then you’ll be waiting a long time. Better pack a lunch,” he called back, without looking. Moments later, he’d unlocked the door and allowed Ivy in.
Ivy turned to watch the woman from just inside the doorway, unable to keep herself from staring. It was somehow awful, but also fascinating.
“Don’t engage her,” Cullen whispered, before shutting the door hard and spinning the deadbolt.
He continued walking, bringing Ivy’s bags down the hall and to the bedroom she’d stayed in the other night when she’d slept over.
Ivy was surprised that she was staying in that room again. She’d assumed he’d have wanted her to stay in the master bedroom with him. And that made her stomach churn with new anxiety.
As usual, Cullen Sharpe called all the shots and answered to no one.