Page 17 of The Christmas Arrangement
“Strays?”
“She would bring home injured birds, hungry dogs, and pregnant barn cats. The new, friendless kid at school. A lonely senior citizen whose spouse recently passed away. Her empathy is dialed up to eleven. I suspect she feels sorry for you.”
I gape at him. “Sorry for me?” The idea is beyond comprehension. “Nobody feels sorry for a rogue movie star.” I should know.
“Ivy would.”
“Huh.”
Before the idea can sink in, he finishes his beer in one long swallow and rests the empty bottle on the counter near the sink. “Let’s get you checked in and rescue Ivy from the gaggle of girls. You can bring your beer.”
Instead, I chug the rest of the ale and place my bottle next to his. I follow him outside in a daze. I don’t think anyone, ever, has felt sorry for Dasher Pine. I can’t wrap my mind around it.
Chapter 9
Only One Bed
Ivy
* * *
My sisters and Noelle pilot me into the cottage. I stop just inside the door and take it in. Cleaned from top to bottom, the cozy space sparkles. The potted tropical anthurium red splash I gifted Noelle and Dad when they got engaged sits on the side table in a glossy white pot. I’m pleased to see that both the graceful white-striped red blooms and the vibrant green leaves are healthy.
Noelle catches me looking. “We keep it in our bedroom usually. But it’s so pretty and rare we decided to move it here to make this place fancy enough for a couple movie stars.”
I don’t know if what she said lands with my sisters, but it lands with me. I nod and return to checking out the cottage. It’s definitely been prepped with Dash (and Lia) in mind rather than the Bryants. Instead of whimsical holiday touches, everything is sleek, elegant, and understated. A glass bowl of vintage silver ornaments occupies the center of the island. A giant three-wick candle from Luminous Lights sits on the mantlepiece. I breathe in the heady mix of cinnamon, pomegranate, and citrus of the shop’s bestseller. It echoes the scent of the pomander balls that dangle on satin ribbons from the stocking hangers where Jodi and Mark Bryant usually hang their quilted stockings over the hearth.
I turn to Noelle. “It looks like something out of a design magazine.”
Before she can answer, Holly grabs my arm and steers me to the couch. “She’s touched. Sit. Spill.”
She pulls me down on to the cushion beside her and Merry and Noelle scoot the armchairs closer and lean forward, waiting.
“It’s a long story,” I begin.
“No, it isn’t,” Merry says. “In fact, I’ll bet it’s an extremely short story. You have not been secretly dating Dash Pine. I’d know if you were. We live together, remember?”
“Fair,” I say. “How was your trip?” I ask Holly.
“It was nice to spend Thanksgiving with Jack’s brother and some of their friends.”
“What about the evil stepfather?”
“We had lunch with him. He wasn’t invited to dinner.”
Merry whistles.
I raise an eyebrow. “Harsh.”
“He did try to steal their mom’s empire from them. Now, while I commend the attempt at redirection, let’s get back to the pending question.” Holly uses her lawyer voice.
“I didn’t realize this was a deposition,” I stall.
Holly crosses her arms and stares at me.
I bite my lip.
Noelle gives me a close look. “Your father and I had to sign a nondisclosure agreement in order to rent this cottage to Dash. “There was a second name on the reservation. And it wasn’t yours.”