"I can take care of myself, Elena," she'd said, waving away my concerns. "Always have."
I couldn't argue with that. Ivy had been using her looks since forever. Despite Mom's best efforts to show her other options, Ivy had always fallen back on what she knew worked. I couldn't recall exactly when she'd first started trading on her body. Maybe sixteen? But I'd long ago accepted it was her choice.
She enjoyed the attention from men, even if her string of exes were nothing to brag about. It was something we had in common, actually, our mutual inability to find decent partners. We joked about it often, calling ourselves the "Red Flag Magnets."
My last long relationship had ended during my final year of college. Harry had seemed perfect. He had been an accounting major like me, ambitious, charming. Then I'd found texts from Lisa, our classmate, on his phone. He'd dumped me via text two days later.
Ivy had driven three hours to campus just to slap him outside the library. "You spineless dick!" she'd screamed while I'd watched, mortified and secretly delighted. "Breaking up over text? You never deserved her anyway!"
That was Ivy. Fiercely protective and completely unfiltered. And I loved her for it.
I grabbed a plate from the cabinet and made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Dinner of champions. The bread was slightly stale, considering I'd brought it with me during the move here, but I was too tired to care. The move had consisted of the bare basics, and we were sharing the one queen bed. We'd at least picked up a fold-out couch for cheap, hiring two guys off Craigslist to move it in for us. Thankfully, the place had come with a few other things, which we were grateful for, and I'd been able to rent out our place back home to a friend from the diner whose lease had been ending. She was a sweet mum of two, and her husband worked hard as a mechanic in town. I'd been more than happy to rent to them, but the rental market was not in our favor, so their payments didn't even cover the mortgage. It was enough though, considering the low cost of this place, and the good pay I was going to be receiving. I sank into one of the mismatched chairs at our creaky dining table, wincing as it wobbled.
My laptop hummed to life, and I pulled up the accounts for Aaron Accounting, my firm back in my hometown. I'd been lucky that Mr. Aaron had agreed to let me work remotely in the evenings after I'd explained about Mom. The arrangement meant twelve-hour workdays, but the extra income was worth it.
Aaron Accounting was the main firm of the entire area back home, mostly due to his long-standing name from the old days of phonebooks, where his name had landed him right at the start for accountants.
If I could just save enough for Mom's treatment, maybe I wouldn't need to confront the Donatis at all. Maybe I could handle this on my own, without stirring up decades-old family drama and potentially piss off some high-class people.
People who were already going to be paying my bills.
The thought was comforting, even if I knew it was probably wishful thinking.
I worked steadily through the evening, pausing only to call Mom and check in. She sounded tired but in good spirits, telling me about the nurse who'd snuck her an extra pudding cup. I'd lied and said I was watching some show to relax after my first day, and she'd bought it. The last thing she needed was to worry about what I was doing and how I was overworking myself by holding two jobs.
By midnight, my eyes were burning. I shut my laptop with a decisive click, ready to call it a night. That's when my phone rang, Ivy's face lighting up my screen.
"Hey," I answered, suppressing a yawn.
"Bitch, you weren't asleep already, were you?" Ivy's voice was loud against the background of thumping music.
"Almost. Some of us have to be at work before noon." I tucked the phone between my ear and shoulder, reaching for the wine she'd left. I could use a little assistance in falling into a deeper sleep.
"Whatever. I'm on break and I need details. How was day one of Operation Sugar Daddy?"
I nearly choked on my glass of wine. "Jesus, Ivy. That is not what we're calling it."
"Fine. Operation Get What's Rightfully Yours. Better?"
"Marginally." I took another sip. "It was... interesting. I actually met Meredith."
"No shit! What's she like? Spoiled princess? Bitch on wheels?"
I smirked at Ivy's quick firing insults, remembering Meredith's quick smile and genuine welcome. "Neither, actually. She seemed... nice. Normal."
"Disappointing," Ivy huffed. "What about Grayson?"
"Didn't see him. Apparently, he's rarely in the office. He runs some shipping company called Lion Freight. Meredith only comes in part-time too, for the foundation work."
"So your master plan to befriend them might be harder than you thought."
I sighed, swirling the wine in my glass. "Looks that way. I'm not sure what my next move is."
"What about the rest of the place? Any tea to spill?"
"Not really. Everyone seems professional. Oh, except—" I stopped, remembering Jackson's ability to make my heart flutter. Just thinking of him now had my cheeks warming and a smile playing on my lips.
Good god, I had a schoolgirl crush.
