Just Ivy . . . she doesn’t count.
If he walked into the room right now, I’d probably slug him in that too-pretty face of his. Let’s see if he would refer to me as just Ivy then.
God, I miss him. I want him back—I’m in love with him. But I can’t forgive him for saying what he did to Matt. Doesn’t help that I spoke to my brother, and he told me some story Archer had spun to him as well. Denying that we were together, swearing up and down nothing was going on between us. Something about a picture Gage saw online of the two of us together, smiling at each other like we’re in love.
Archer didn’t bother to tell me about that picture either.
He lied to everyone. He lied to me. My heart still aches.
But would I ever get over him? I really, really hope so.
Someday.
I throw myself into my work because it’s the only thing that keeps my mind occupied and off my troubles. I move through my days like some sort of ghost. Functioning, able to complete my tasks, meet with clients, answer the phone, only to go home and crawl into bed. Watch sappy movies and cry into my pillow, wishing I wasn’t alone.
I am a pitiful, horrible wreck.
In my sleep, he comes to me. Smiling that beautiful smile of his, the dimple flashing, and then I’m suddenly in his arms. Slowly melting when he whispers how much he loves me. Until I’m falling completely under his spell, ready for him to make love to me.
Then I wake up and realize it was all just a dream and I’m alone. Without him. I tell myself it’s better this way. He would’ve hurt me sooner or later, and it was best that it happened sooner, no? Now it’s out of the way, and I can move forward.
But my mind and my body are stuck in the past, still longing for Archer. I can’t help it.
Not that it’s been that long since the incident, as I refer to it. Less than two weeks, that’s it. He’s called. He’s texted, but I refuse to answer him or talk to him. At least he hasn’t called my work, or worse, my parents.
God, that would be mortifying. Bad enough he’s phoned Gage repeatedly, who calls him all sorts of vulgar names before he hangs up on him.
Gotta love a big brother who defends you no matter what, even against his best friend.
My desk phone rings, knocking me from my morose thoughts, and I pick it up, surprised to hear Sharon’s voice. “Ivy, I have a huge favor to ask of you,” she starts.
“Sure.” I grab a pen, ready to take notes in case I need to. Sharon talks fast, and I feel like I’m constantly scribbling across a notepad when I talk to her in the hopes I’ll remember what to do. “What’s up?”
“I have a client coming by in fifteen minutes and there’s no way I can be there in time to meet him. Could you do it for me? I hate to ask this of you but I don’t have a choice. I’m stuck in traffic, and I already had a late start back to the office.”
“Sure. Who are you meeting with?”
“Matthew DeLuca. Have you heard of him?”
“What? Of course I have. He and my brother are good friends.” I’m in shock. Why would Matt want to meet with Sharon? Why wouldn’t he meet with me? If this has anything to do with the winery, I’m almost offended. I heard rumors he was going to refurbish it. I totally wanted to check it out and see what exactly needs improving.
Not that I want to be in the same vicinity as Archer . . . do I?
Of course you do, you lovesick idiot.
“Well, perfect. Ought to be easy for you to talk to him and find out what he’s looking for since you know him so well.” She rattles a few other facts off to me before she hangs up. I settle the phone in its cradle, surprise still coursing through my veins.
Okay, now I’m irritated. Why didn’t he reach out to me first? I’m so calling Matt and chewing him out for not wanting to meet with me.
Of course, seeing Matt will also remind me of Archer and that will hurt. It especially hurts because Matt was the one Archer said all of those horrible, hurtful things to about me. He witnessed our entire argument, the reason why we fell apart.
I hate that. But I’ll need to face him sometime, so it may as well be sooner rather than later.
Within minutes I hear the front door buzzer. The entrance is kept locked during the day so we don’t have any strange people busting in uninvited. I stand, smoothing my hands down my skirt as I exit my office and enter the lobby, only to stop short when I see who’s standing on the other side of that door.
It’s not Matt.
It’s Archer.
Stiffening my spine, I stride toward the door, stopping just in front of it. “Go away,” I tell him, knowing he can hear me.
He slowly shakes his head, looking so devastated, so sad, he’s breaking my heart.
Stupid, too-soft heart.
“I can’t go,” he says. “Not until I talk to you, Ivy.”
“I don’t want to hear what you have to say.”
“Too damn bad. If you don’t let me inside, then I’ll just tell you everything through this stupid glass door.”
Stubborn ass. “Where’s Matt? I thought the appointment was with him.”
“He made the appointment so I could come see you.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. There are dark circles beneath his eyes, his cheeks are covered in stubble despite him being impeccably dressed in a gorgeous suit, and his hair is mussed. As if he’s run his hands through it repeatedly. “Though he really does need your help, Ivy. That winery of his is a disaster.”