Danny: Is that real mistletoe, Jackie? Taya says she wants some.
The conversation went back to the mutual adoration of everyone and their families. Even Mom and Dad got in on the action and sent a picture of the two cuddled up with hot cocoa, the old Christmas tree with its handmade ornaments in the distance.
Ivy ignored the small prick of loneliness she felt while scrolling past the images. She had a career to focus on before she even thought about love, she reminded herself. To satisfy her family members, and to show that she was, in fact, doing important things of her own, she snapped a picture of herself on the plane with the small window at her back.
Ivy: Entering a winter wonderland to interview potential bachelor number five for America’s Looking for Love show. I love the pictures of you all. See you on Christmas Eve.
She hit send, sighed out a deep breath, and muted the text conversation to prevent her phone from buzzing while she hurried about the airport to catch her cab. At once, she thought back on her conversation with Easton Sparks, her next and final subject.
I’m sure I’ll find some way to keep you warm. Too bad he’d had to spoil his otherwise good first impression. The guy’s picture and bio had seemed so promising too. Turned out he wasn’t so different from the others. She recalled the way Leonard, the pro football player from Phoenix, rested his hand on her knee as he came up beside her on the bleachers. “How about we go back to my place and I’ll show you my trophies…”
Had she come off as a woman who’d actually say yes to that proposal? It was insulting. Sure, he had a lot of great qualities, but his let’s-hit-the-sack come-on was anything but flattering. Then there was the cowboy; he hadn’t missed his chance to ask her out either, though he’d been more respectful. Even the gambler had rolled the dice, asking her to stick around and be his good luck charm through his upcoming rounds of blackjack.
Of course, she couldn’t flatter herself over encounters like that. First of all, these men didn’t even know Ivy. And second, they wanted to get on the show, which meant they were looking for an “in.” Not that she could blame them. Of the four candidates, only the teacher from Wyoming hadn’t come onto her. Though the man had spoken so quietly she might have missed it if he had.
A dose of pity rushed through her at the recollection. The poor guy might know how to address a classroom of middle school kids, but speaking directly to a woman with a camera had proven to be a different story. She doubted he’d go into the show’s final round, but she’d been wrong before. Sometimes the network was less interested in perfect matches than they were in entertaining television. Sadly, one didn’t always equal the other.
Hopefully he’d end up with the right woman eventually.
Similar thoughts filtered through Ivy’s mind as she retrieved her luggage, weaved her way out of the airport, and stepped onto the bustling sidewalk. She shivered, immediately assaulted by the frigid air. Hadn’t her time in Montana and Wyoming prepared her enough? Talk about terrible. Another mean shiver rocked her body as she propped her carry-on bag onto her standing suitcase and hurried to unzip it before her fingers froze.
Ivy had been foolish to think the name brand coat she’d bought in the sunny city of LA would protect her against the elements. Made of faux leather, the tan coat might be better called a jacket were it not for the fuzzy layer of white lining the inside. A lining that made it feel soft and warm in the toasty LA climate. Sadly, it was not made for weather like this.
Luckily, she hadn’t spent a whole lot of time outdoors during her trip thus far. After each interview, she’d been quickly ushered back to her hotel in an amply heated cab. True, she wouldn’t be staying in a hotel tonight; instead, Ivy would head straight back to LA where frostbite and flurries did not exist. She could hardly wait.
Once she’d shrugged into the thing, she secured her bags and waved down a cab. “Where are you going?” the man behind the wheel said as she hurried toward the trunk he’d popped open.
She worked to hoist her luggage into the trunk, then closed it with a humph, noting a special ding from her phone. Only one number made her phone give her that unique alert, and that was Marsha Langston’s.
Ivy hurried to read the text as she climbed into the back seat.
Marsha: Thanks for sending your last four interviews. They’re great, but the one I’m looking forward to most is Easton Sparks’. His resume and photos are something else…he’ll have America going crazy! Make that interview count! I know you will. A kiss face closed out the text.
A rush of adrenaline surged through her at the woman’s confidence. This was her shot. Her chance to show Marsha that she deserved this promotion more than anyone. Her shot to prove that…that taking a year and a half dating hiatus had actually been driven by determination and not fear. But to prove that to whom—herself?
Ivy set her attention to her phone and quickly texted out a reply. She kept it short and sweet, the way Marsha preferred: I won’t let you down.
And she meant it. Ivy would make this interview, the one with the very handsome-sounding flirt from Front Range, her best yet.
“Miss?” came the man up front. “Your destination?”
She hit send and lifted her chin to address the cab driver.
“You should really have a screen-locking feature on your phone,” he said with a nod. “My kids got onto my social media once. Posted some very inappropriate things.”
Ivy tipped her head in question, then glanced down at her phone. “I deactivated that feature on purpose. I don’t have any kids.”
“Oh. Where you headed?”
“Sorry. Front Range, please.”
“Front Range?” His black, bushy eyebrows shot up, echoing the panic she’d heard in his voice. “Why?”
“I’m doing an interview. There’s a survival camp there,” she added.
Only the man didn’t start driving. Instead, he propped an elbow on the back of the seat and spun to look at her. “You know there’s a blizzard coming…” he said.
“So I’ve heard. But you guys are used to blizzards, aren’t you?” Heck, it was Denver, for crying out loud.
“We’re used to snow,” he corrected. “Blizzards…I don’t think I could make it very far in the canyon with conditions like that. Especially as the road starts to narrow…” He shivered. “Is there any way you could have someone meet us part way? Someone with chains on their tires, perhaps? We’re looking at buckets of snow. Clear-up-to-your-roof-in-a-matter-of-days snow.”
What, was this guy from Hawaii or something? She ducked to take a look at the freeway overpasses. “It looks like the roads are clear to me.”
“Sure, right here they are. The plows are going over it nonstop. But where you’re going, they won’t be. In fact, when the blizzard really hits, you won’t be able to see your own hand in front of your face. They’ll probably send us all home within the next few hours is my guess.”
A shock of fear shot through her. “Who? The cab company?”
He nodded.
“Send all the cab drivers home?”
He nodded once again. “It’s a very bad storm, Miss. And with tomorrow being Christmas Eve and all, they’re encouraging people to get to the place they want to be on Christmas Day today, as they fear travel in the next few days might be difficult, if not impossible.”