Meant for Me (8 page)

“It feels weird being in here,” I admit, looking around at a room I barely recognize.

“Good weird or bad weird?” she asks, pulling a velvet box out of her pocket.

“I don’t know. Just weird,” I confess, distracted by what she has in her hand. “Is that it?”

“Yep, your grandma’s ring,” she says, snapping it open to reveal the simple diamond solitaire. “Even though she never got a chance to meet Ivy, I know she would be proud to have her wear this.”

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, removing it from the satin cushion holding it in place. It looks so delicate resting on my palm. “But what if it’s not the right size? I mean, Ivy’s fingers are pretty swollen due to the pregnancy. I don’t want to mess this up by asking her to marry me then having to force the ring over her knuckle or something. I want it to be perfect.”

“Well, Eric, I think you’re going to have to wing it.” My mom pats my arm consolingly. “Besides, Ivy will probably want to wait until after she has the baby to have it sized. For now, she can always wear it on a chain around her neck.”

I try to hide my disappointment. My mom is only being realistic. There’s no way a jeweler can size it in time anyway. It’s just that I want to give Ivy a proposal she’ll remember for the rest of her life. No glitches. No screw-ups. And a ring that fits. But I guess it could be kind of sexy if I found a chain long enough for the ring to rest on her baby bump. I have to admit there’s something incredibly romantic about that.

“She knows this isn’t my first time doing this. That’s why I have to make sure it’s extra special,” I confess. This is one of those times where I’m glad I can tell my mom anything and she’ll understand.

“Does she know that you didn’t propose to Cassidy with this ring?” she asks, looking at me expectantly.

“It never came up,” I say ruefully. “Do you think that’s the first thing she’s going to think about when I ask her?”

“It probably won’t be the first thing that crosses her mind, but it’ll definitely be the second,” she states matter-of-factly, taking the ring from my fingers and placing it back in the box.

“Cassidy was just more of a girly-girl type. She insisted on picking out her own ring.” I shrug, not really understanding the ins and outs of the female brain. “When I approached her about wearing grandma’s ring, it’s not like she thought a quarter caret was too small…”

“But she dreamed of something bigger?” my mom replies knowingly, tilting her head.

“Exactly. But I never imagined how much it would cost. I only wanted Cassidy to be happy.” I furrow my brow, contemplating what I should do. “But this ring means a whole lot more to me. It always did. This is the one I see Ivy wearing, but I don’t want her to think I’m cheapening out on her.”

“Eric! She would never think that,” my mom admonishes. “I’ve gotten to know Ivy quite well over these past few months and I know she will cherish the sentimental value this ring holds.”

“You don’t think she’s going to compare it to the one I gave Cassidy? I mean, our engagement picture was everywhere. Ivy must have seen it.” I search my mom’s eyes, begging her to tell me the truth.

“Want my honest advice?” I silently nod my head, and she continues. “Take your time proposing to Ivy. Go somewhere quiet where the two of you can be alone. Start by telling her the story of how your grandfather proposed to your grandmother. Then, when you put the ring on her finger, it will mean so much more.”

“So you’re nixing my idea to get down on one knee in the middle of the airport?” I ask with a wry grin.

“Ivy is going to be so tired when she gets off the plane, Eric. What’s the rush?” she asks, getting to her feet. “No one likes to feel ambushed, especially when it comes to something as important as this. Wait a couple of days. Then take her somewhere special.”

“You do realize that if I can’t afford a diamond ring, then a trip to Paris is out of the question.” I nudge my mom with my elbow, following her out the door.

“I’m not talking about Paris, you knucklehead,” she scolds, swatting my arm as we approach the steps. “I was thinking a little closer to home, somewhere like the Hideaway Cliffs.”

I stop dead in my tracks. “Mom, you are brilliant!”

“I do have some good ideas from time to time. Don’t I, Frank?” she teases as we get to the bottom of the stairs and find my father snoring on the couch next to Shep.

I’m just about to laugh along with her when my phone rings. It’s an L.A. area code. I exhale for the first time today. Finally, I’ll get to hear Ivy’s voice.

“Ivy?” I say breathlessly into the receiver.

But it’s not Ivy. I turn slightly away from my parents to try and comprehend what I’m being told. My dad is fully awake now, and the two of them are looking at me with concern.

“And you’re with her now? She’s not alone?” I demand, my voice tight.

“Eric, honey. What is it? What’s wrong?” my mom whispers, tugging on my sleeve, but I hold up my hand for her to stop. I’m too agitated by what I’m hearing.

“I’ll grab the first flight out,” I insist, my eyes darting wildly around the living room. “When she wakes up, tell her I’m on my way, all right?”

My parents exchange a worried glance.

“Will, I need you to do this for me. You have to stay strong until I get there. You hear me?” I clutch the phone to my ear as my hand starts to shake. “Call me if anything changes.”

I jam my phone back into the holder on my belt, blinking back tears.

“Ivy was rushed to the hospital,” I manage to choke out as I drop to my knees, powerless to withstand this new wave of grief.

“And?” my dad urges as the two of them rush to my side.

“She’s in danger of losing the baby.”

Chapter Nine
Lauren

Now this is going to be fun—I can’t wait to watch them squirm.

I feel Ivy trembling beneath my hands. Good. I’m going to enjoy making her suffer. No one makes a fool out of me and gets away with it. No one.

“Lauren, what kind of messed-up game are you trying to play?” Will strikes the first volley. It’s laughable how easy it’s going to be to shoot him down.

“I don’t know, Will. The kind I win?” I smirk at him, and he pushes his chair back violently. “Now don’t go causing a scene. I came all this way to talk. So let’s talk.”

I’ve scared Warren and Dave into a shocked sort of silence, but they’re communicating with each other furiously with their eyes. They probably want to bolt from this meeting and pretend like it never even happened. I’m not surprised they want to extricate themselves from such a sticky situation. But it’s too late now. My claws are out and ready to be sharpened.

I take the seat they were saving for me at the head of the table, dramatically crossing my legs as I sit down. Will blushes hotly for a minute, no doubt remembering when I tied him to my bedpost with this particular pair of pantyhose. All of that delicious foreplay and he still couldn’t get it up. I wore them on purpose to unsettle him. If he thinks he can one-up me, he better think again. I could bury him in an instant.

Besides, I hired a professional to hack into every account he’s ever created. That’s what he gets for leaving his stuff around my place. He’s a pathetic hustler with barely a thousand dollars to his name—and he has the audacity to challenge me? He’s going to be sorry he transferred his loyalty to Ivy because I intend on ruining him.

“Gentlemen, as you can see, my family doesn’t take kindly to being double-crossed,” I begin by purposefully excluding Ivy from the conversation. She doesn’t deserve the courtesy of being mentioned. “My uncle got wind of your little side deal to keep this project alive, and he immediately had the New York branch of Price Enterprises look into it for him. Too bad you didn’t do your research to find out what the letters LPR stand for. I never thought two Academy Award-winning producers would be so lazy.”

“Now listen here—” Dave starts, a bead of sweat forming on his upper lip.

“No, I think it’s time that you listen,” I retort, disdain falling from my lips. “You think I’m here to stop this production from going forward, don’t you?”

“Well, aren’t you?” Ivy spits out, finally raising her eyes to address me.

“It speaks,” I mutter, belittling her. “Sorry, but little sluts like you don’t get to ask questions.”

Will attempts to rise from his chair again, no doubt to defend her honor. How sweet. “Lauren, you better—”

“Better what? Acknowledge the whore in my presence?” I chuckle to myself as Warren gasps loudly, covering his mouth with his hand. “I don’t think so.”

“So what are you planning on doing, if may I ask?” Dave responds, eyeing me apprehensively. He’s flustered but he’s more of businessman than his little ‘wife’ is.

“I’m buying you out, boys. You’re gonna walk away from this project and never look back. I’ll be the one making this film, not you.” My response floors them. Ivy even utters a strangled cry. This is child’s play. They’re not even putting up much of a fight. Why did I bother to fly all the way out here? I could’ve done this on Skype. What a bunch of pussies.

“If Warren and Dave aren’t producing the script, then no one is,” Ivy declares emphatically. “End of discussion.”

“Huh, that’s funny. It sounds like someone’s trying to claim ownership of your script, Will. Or maybe I’m just hearing things.” I laugh bitterly as Will’s face drops. “What? Didn’t you tell her?”

“Tell me what?” Ivy parrots as she clutches her stomach under the table.

“That he’s the one who owns the worldwide distribution rights. He registered a copyright in his name with an intellectual property lawyer and everything. It’s his to do with as he pleases.” I smile triumphantly, ready to crush her once and for all.

“Will, what is she talking about? The script isn’t even completed yet. We have a whole other draft to do. That’s why I’m here.” Ivy stops to take a deep breath as she grips the side of the table. “How could you shut me out of something that’s still a work in progress?”

“Because that’s how creative endeavors are protected,” Dave enlightens her, grimacing at how they’ve been played. “Will owns the idea. No matter what form the finished project takes. I’m afraid he’s beat you to the punch.”

“But they’re my words. He can’t just steal them like that!” Ivy’s green eyes widen as she begins to realize that Will’s only sense of loyalty is to himself.

“Technically, he can. If he listed your efforts as a work-for-hire contribution, then the law considers you compensated,” Dave continues, his voice laced with pity. “You’ve been duped.”

“Ivy, don’t listen to them! I never intended to sell you out,” Will exclaims, hitting the table with his fist, making the silverware jump.

“For a guy who’s in no position to bargain, you must really like the sound of your own voice.” I level Will with a glare as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I was intending to make you a decent offer, Will. But if you keep on telling lies, I’m going to change my mind. You don’t want to push me. I’m going to have the script either way. You might as well profit from its sale.”

“Will, are you really going to let her buy you out like that? You’ve known me your whole life and you’re going to betray me like this over money?” Ivy asks, her voice quivering.

“Ivy, I don’t have a choice. You don’t understand. Without this, I have nothing. Nothing!” Will screams, attracting the attention of everyone in the restaurant.

“I can’t believe I trusted you. You promised Eric that you would honor Cassidy’s memory by letting me write the script.” Ivy’s voice rises as she calls Will out in front of the entire room.

“Oh, you’re still going to write it. Just the way I want you to.” I revel in the expression of hatred that seeps across her face. I can push Ivy’s buttons so easily. I’m going to enjoy having her under my thumb again, holding her up to the fire until she burns.

“You don’t own me,” Ivy cries in a deadly undertone. “You never will.”

“I’d think again if I were you,” I mutter, narrowing my eyes. “You had no problem slandering me in your first go-around. Now that the tables are turned, how do you think Eric’s going to feel about his baby momma dragging the memory of his precious Cassidy through the muck?”

“I won’t write it, and there’s no way you can make me,” Ivy seethes, her face turning pale.

“Technically, no. But do you really want to make life difficult for all those around you?” I steeple my fingers, waiting for her to crack. “Let’s start with Eric, shall we? I’d have no problem getting the bank to call in his loan. He was such a credit risk anyway. The bank manager told me he only approved Eric’s application after he saw us together at the gala and he assumed we were dating. Now he’s not sure Eric’s going to be able to make all the payments since he was already late with the last one.”

Ivy stares at me in disbelief. I was right. She didn’t even know about the loan. Oh, Eric. You and your secrets…

“And then there’s Will. I have so many saved voice mails of him propositioning me about exchanging sex for money. I’m sure the police back home would have a field day busting up the male prostitution gig he has going on.” I can’t resist a chuckle as Will’s eyes zero in on Warren. He has been a naughty boy, hasn’t he? Dave seems oblivious, but I can always change that. “Will tried to blackmail me for all he could get, but it appears his sexual appetite runs in a different direction, if you catch my drift. It always seems to be the good-looking ones, doesn’t it?”

“I think you’d better stop right there, Ms. Price,” Warren says, fussing with his scarf.

“Really? Because I uncovered a slew of late-night phone calls between the two of you that I really think your husband has a right to know about.” I give Dave a pointed look, and he immediately gets to his feet.

“So that’s why Will came running back to L.A. before the summer was over. You couldn’t stand to be away from your little boy toy, could you?” Dave’s voice sounds three octaves higher as he grabs a glass of water, tossing it in Warren’s face. “Just because you’re younger than me doesn’t give you the right to sleep with some hot piece of ass just because you feel like it!”

“You jerk! You know this scarf is Hermes! The water stains will never come out!” Warren shrieks, changing his tone as Dave storms out of the restaurant. “Wait, darling! I can explain. He wasn’t even that good.”

I snicker as Warren runs after his beloved, soaking wet. But the way Ivy’s looking at Will—now that’s priceless. Talk about being shell-shocked. How could she not know Will’s gay? I mean, really. No straight guy cares that much about his appearance.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Ivy stares at Will, a pained expression on her face.

“Sorry to burst your bubble,” he says, swirling the ice in his glass.

“I don’t care who you sleep with, Will, but it shouldn’t be for money,” Ivy responds, clearly troubled. “You’re not out here going to film school. You’re selling your body to the highest bidder.”

“Huh, that’s funny. You don’t care that I’m gay, just that I’m trying to earn a living off it,” he remarks snidely. “You don’t know how hard it is to make it in L.A., Ivy. There’s no way I’m going to bust my ass waiting tables when I can be making a hell of a lot more utilizing my natural assets. Hell, I’d be a fool not to.”

“Hear, hear,” I cry, mocking him. But I’ve had about enough drama for one morning. It’s time to get back to business. “I could go on about how I could strip Ben of his football scholarship and report Eric’s buddy Jack to the IRS for tax evasion, but we have a more pressing matter to discuss, namely Cassidy.”

“Real classy to speak ill of the dead,” Will responds as he spins his knife on the tablecloth.

“What, am I boring you, Will? I assure you I can tell Ivy about more of your sexcapades, if you’d like.” I smile sweetly at him as he sits back in his seat, glumly removing his hands from the table. “I think you consider yourself more of a bisexual, wouldn’t you say? I remember the time…”

“That won’t be necessary,” he replies.

Ah, it’s touching how he still wants Ivy to idolize him. He doesn’t want me to talk about our closed-door exploits that involved a lot more than a pair of pantyhose. Very well. I’ll oblige, for now.

“Turns out Cassidy isn’t as innocent as the world was led to believe.” I raise an eyebrow, goading them.

“What are you talking about?” Ivy asks somewhat reluctantly.

“I have it on very good authority that she was getting a little extra on the side, if you know what I mean.” I revel in bandying about this bit of gossip. It’s like igniting a tinderbox as Ivy and Will start talking at once.

“You’re such a liar!” Ivy cries.

“Where do you come up with this stuff?” Will asks.

“Don’t believe me? Fine. I’ll reveal the proof when the time is right, but for now, here’s what’s going to happen. Ivy, you’re going to write Cassidy’s true story, the way it should’ve been told, and Will, you’re going to work your contacts and make sure this film sees the light of day. It shouldn’t be too hard. Everyone loves a tale of a good girl gone bad.”

“And if we don’t?” Will stalls, waiting to hear just how much leverage I have on them.

“Will, I hope you survive prison because you have jailbait written all over you.” I shift my gaze over to Ivy. “And when the bank forecloses on Eric’s house and then the garden center, it’s going to be really hard supporting a newborn baby without a college degree, isn’t it? So why don’t I give you a little incentive?”

“Like what?” Ivy asks, even though she’s reluctant to engage.

“I’ll sign off on that letter. You’ll get your internship credits and move forward with your education. Whether or not you graduate is up to you, but at least you won’t be stuck in limbo anymore.” It’s what Ivy’s always wanted from me, even as she used her connection with Ryan to get it. It’s like dangling a fresh, juicy carrot in front of a starving rabbit. Of course she’s going to bite.

“And how am I going to attend class at the main campus when I have a new baby? They don’t exactly allow infants in the dorms.” Her logic is sound, but I’m already prepared for that argument.

“That’s why the term stay-at-home dad is so wonderfully appropriate, don’t you agree?” I retort, my eyes gleaming.

“And Eric and I are going to live on what in the meantime?” Ivy asks, and I can see the idea already taking shape in her mind. She wants this. I know she does.

“The royalties from the screenplay,” I remark, sliding the last piece of the puzzle into place.

“And you think Eric is going to agree to this? It’ll break his heart,” Will says, trying to get Ivy to see the light. But it’s already too late. She’s mine now.

“He doesn’t have a choice. I either do this or we lose everything,” Ivy groans, wincing in pain.

“Ivy, are you okay?” Will hurries over to her as she leans forward, nearly taking the tablecloth with her.

“So can I take that as a yes?” I loom over her prostrate form until she nods, gasping for breath. “Good. I’ll be in touch.”

I stand up and brush off my skirt as Will kneels before Ivy, urging her to calm down. She’s in some kind of distress as a puddle of red appears beneath her on the white linen chair. Oh dear, what a mess.

I unclasp my clutch and throw some bills on the table. Everyone’s distracted by Ivy’s cries. Now is the perfect time to make my escape. I slip my sunglasses onto my face and stride out of the restaurant. All I hear as I make my way out the door is Will yelling, “Can someone call an ambulance?”

I never intended for Ivy to miscarry, but if she does, she does. There’s nothing I can do about it now. I didn’t mean to get her so upset that it would put her baby’s life in danger. She really needs to grow up and learn how to handle things. I outplayed her, simple as that. Just because she couldn’t admit defeat doesn’t make me liable for whatever happens to her. She’s too high-strung for her own good. Maybe this will teach her a lesson. She needs to learn that she’s not the one in control.