Chapter 28
Thanks for tuning in as I post chapters of my new novel When Ivy Met Adam: A second chance, forced proximity, sexy, queer love-triangle romance. Your feedback is everything. Please post comments here or email me. I love hearing what you think.
Prologue (old) Prologue (new) Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapters 8&9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 (old) Chapter 15 (new) Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapters 22&23 Chapter 26* Chapter 27
*No chapters are missing. They just got renumbered! 🤓
Chapter 28- Adam
ten months later
I arrive at the firm without an appointment. Despite the nondescript concrete block exterior, my shoulders relax immediately as I walk into a law office adorned with pride flags.
Just as quickly, my blood pressure spikes again—because, looking much like the building’s exterior, the wall of a receptionist greets me with a not-very-friendly smile. She is at least my height, built like a fortress, and wants nothing to do with me. I get it. Security must be a top priority here. But she will not get between me and Ivy. Nothing else will. Ever again. I hope.
I don’t have an appointment, but what I do have is two dozen orange roses. Ivy’s favorite. (I looked it up: they are supposed to signal sincere gratitude and happiness. I’m hoping their subliminal messages get through to my girl.)
Fixing my most innocent and agreeable smile on my face, I approach the receptionist, who really seems an awful lot like a bouncer. “I’m here to see Ivy Gardiner. Please.”
“Do you have an appointment?” I’m close enough now to see the nametag the receptionist/bouncer (security guard?) is wearing—her name is Sheila and her pronouns are she/her.
“Sheila, hi. I’m Adam Lopez.” She remains impassive. “I don’t have an appointment. What I have is an apology, a dozen years of devotion to Mx. Gardiner, and these roses.” I pull out a single stem and hand it to Sheila. When she accepts it, my heart lifts with hope.
“Let me see if she’s available.” Rather than pick up a phone, Sheila types something into her computer. We both wait for a response. The phone on Sheila’s desk doesn’t ring, but she picks it up anyway. “Sheila.” A pause. “That’s what he said.” She looks up at me and gives me a once over. Then looks at the flower in her hand. “Orange. I’d say a true orange Fanta, not salmon or ginger.” Another pause.
I’m dying over here. What is Ivy saying? I swallow and take a huge chance. “Sheila. Let me talk to her, please.”
Sheila gives me a withering look. Then she raises an eyebrow, challenging me to do something.
Nothing changes in Sheila’s expression, but her shoulders relax by the tiniest bit. We are both silent. Then she says into the receiver, “Yes, of course.”
She hangs up the phone and goes back to whatever she’d been doing before I arrived.
“Sheila, you’re leaving me hanging here. What did she say?” I plead.
Deigning to look up at me, she deadpans, “Those are her favorite.”
“Yes, I know that much.” I stop myself from rolling my eyes. But not by much. “You’re toying with me, Sheila—” but there she is. Stepping off the elevator. Ivy isn’t smiling, but her eyes tell me everything. She’s happy to see me. The stern line of her mouth is a front to hide her utter delight that I’m here. Thank God.
“What are you doing here?”
Put all the ice you want in your voice, my little spitfire. I know you’re happy to see me, I send her silently.
Out loud, I say, “Please give me a chance to win you.” The word I don’t say is “back”.
“You’re here. Why are you here? I’m at work.” She grabs my arm to move me toward the front door. Why does her hand on my arm feel so fucking good?
“I have an interview at the University of Miami. Part-time, in an urgent care clinic. I need to be near you.” She pushes me firmly out the door and into the Florida humidity. At least she follows me.
“You can’t take a part-time job in a city you abhor for me, Adam. This is insane.”
I put everything on the line to win her back. The receptionist/security guard watches from a distance, but I focus on Ivy.
“It’s not insane if it means you and I can give us a chance. I’m here to negotiate, Ivy. I am here to set boundaries and adhere to yours. Our issues, my betrayal, our past can’t just be set aside. Let’s agree to be honest with each other, to listen to each other and not keep secrets.” She raises an eyebrow. She’s listening.
“I know I messed up. I know I hurt you,” I say, my voice soft and sincere. “But, Ivy, I love you. I've always loved you. Please let me try to show you.”
