Ivy dashed out, closed the door as Marsha instructed, and darted toward the lady’s room. The rather large foyer, equipped with lounge chairs, magazines, and tissues, was the perfect place to unload the tears. Tears that were already breaking through.
They were going to force Easton to go on the show. Or slap him with a hefty lawsuit if he refused. And it was all her fault. Ivy needed to warn Easton, she knew that. She would, but first she had to get herself together.
Chapter 14
Jazz music hummed over Jessie’s Diner as Easton took in his sister’s response. Sure, he could have told Chantelle about Ivy and everything that happened before now, but the timing hadn’t felt right.
“I have to say,” Chantelle said with the shake of her head. “I’m really surprised. And impressed.”
Easton squirmed beneath his sister’s scrutinizing gaze. “Don’t be. I still have no idea how this is going to work. I can’t pick up and move to LA, and I doubt she’d be willing to leave California.”
“It’s only like a three-hour flight, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Two and a half,” he corrected, glancing out the window. Beyond the glass, a snow tractor moved about the distant parking lot while thick layers of bright snow heaped high in the curved shovel. “I’m looking at flights to head out there after our January group comes through.”
“Hmm…” was all she replied.
It wasn’t the sort of response he’d anticipated. Easton had known Chantelle from the time she was born; he knew how exuberant she could get over things like this. Something’s not right.
Slowly then, his mind repeating the notion along the way, Easton moved his gaze back to the warm interior of the diner, first to the old oak table and paper placemats, then up to his sister.
His pulse jumped as he took in her expression—eyes dark and conflicted, her forehead and jaw tight with worry. Or even fear.
“What’s wrong, Chantelle?” A painful push of anxiety shot through his form, tightening his limbs as memories rushed in, of times he’d seen that expression before. Moments she’d upset Mom or Dad, or on nights she feared one of their visitors might break into their room.
“Is it the baby? What?”
Chantelle shook her head and gripped onto the sides of the small table. “You said that Ivy agreed to not send the interview and contract, right?”
Where was she going with this? And just why was it causing her so much concern? “Right,” he urged.
“Is it possible that she…tricked you somehow?”
This was not a direction he saw coming. Yet, as off base as her comment might be, the upset surging throughout his body multiplied.
“Why would you even suggest that?” Sure, he sounded angry now, but that’s because he was. Chantelle hadn’t even met Ivy. Who was she to make accusations? She was probably just upset that he was backing out of the bet.
“Ivy wasn’t trying to trick me out of doing the show,” he insisted. “In fact, it would have been far better for her career if I had done it. She probably lost a promotion over it.”
But the look on his sister’s face didn’t change. The crease along her brow only deepened as she assessed him. Quietly. Painfully.
“Hey, if you’re just ticked off because I backed out of the bet, get over it. If your real reason for wanting me to go on there was to help me find someone—mission accomplished, okay? I found someone that I can actually see a positive future with. You should be celebrating the fact, not…taking shots at the one woman I finally…let in.”
“Trust me, Easton, I want to, but there’s something you don’t know.” She shot a sideways glance toward the front of the café, guiding his attention to a small crowd gathered there.
He squinted to survey the scene, unable to guess at what the danger might be, when his phone started to ring. Easton’s head swayed as he glanced at the screen. “It’s Ivy.”
Chantelle nodded as if she knew something. “Get it if you want, but I’m afraid she’s been lying to you.”
His thumb felt numb as he tapped the screen and pulled the device to his ear. “Ivy?”
“I’m so sorry, Easton,” she said in a rush. “They found your interview and your waiver too. If you don’t already know, they’ve landed in Denver and are headed your way.”
He pressed the phone closer to his ear and searched the cluster of people at the entrance. “Who’s they?”
“The recording crew for Looking For Love. Marsha’s holding you to your contract, and there’ll be repercussions if you don’t follow through.”
Easton turned a look on his sister. “You knew about this?”
Chantelle tipped her head apologetically, but Ivy answered through the line before his sister could. “No! Easton, I—"
“We have a special announcement, patrons,” the owner, Jessie, declared, a small megaphone to her lips. She was heading his way with an entourage of gawkers and camera crew at her heels.
“How’d they know I’d be here?” he hissed under his breath.
Chantelle leaned over the table. “I told them, of course. They said you were selected for the show and this is the next step. They film your reaction.”
“Easton?” Ivy came through the line.
Fury flared within him. Chantelle was right—Ivy had betrayed him. All to get her stupid promotion? His jaw clenched hard. “Man,” he breathed. “I really am a sucker, aren’t I? It’s been nice doing business with you, Ivy.” Easton pressed the small power button with more strength than necessary and fisted the device as the crowd approached.
“We have one of America’s most eligible bachelors in our midst, friends,” Jessie continued as she neared. “Right here at table number six.”
Easton straightened as a man with a wide-lens camera propped on his shoulder came into view. This could not be happening. A woman with an identical-looking camera locked her lens on his sister.
Jessie nodded toward Chantelle expectantly, as if it was her turn to carry on the rest of the cringe-worthy chaos.
“Surprise,” she squeaked, her face red with all the upset and worry she felt.
Easton couldn’t take the glare off his face as he eyed the expectant crowd, one intruder after the next, hungry for a taste of the action.
Chantelle cleared her throat, and all heads turned her way. “You got picked,” she said, forcing a pathetic looking smile. “For the, um…Looking For Love show,” she added.
Suddenly the female with the camera tipped her head away from the lens and looked at Chantelle. “Let’s try that again with a little more enthusiasm. And remember to add that he leaves today.”
“Today?” Easton’s brow furrowed. His jaw clenched.
“The producers like to isolate contestants for a few days to keep them from the media before they enter the mansion,” Chantelle explained. “We brought in Max as a replacement at the center. Things there will be fine.”
“Okay, let’s go back to the announcement, please,” the lady behind the lens instructed once more.
Were they kidding? Easton turned a look over his shoulder, desperate for a way out. The aisle leading toward the entrance would be blocked for days. But, if he recalled correctly, there was an emergency exit in the rear beside the kitchen, just beyond the men’s room.