Love Nouveau (19 page)

The phone rings twice before going to voicemail. I hang up abruptly, unsure of what to say on the message. That’s odd, but I’m sure he’s just busy. I call back a few moments later, prepared to leave a message to let him know I’m thinking about him and that I'm counting down the days until I see him … eight to be exact. This time my call is answered after the first ring.

“Hey, handsome!” I flirt into the phone.

“Oh, Ivy. Hey there.” There is a hint of surprise in Phoenix’s voice.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” I have to fight the stupid smile off of my face. Every time we talk it makes me feel incredibly girly deep inside. I can’t believe I’m turning into
that
kind of girl. I sort of adore him for it.

“No, you’re all right. I just, uh, I have some friends over.” I hear him pull a door shut for privacy.

“Oh. Well, tell Sully and whoever else is there I say hi.”

“Yeah, sure. I will.” His clipping tone catches me off guard and I feel like I’ve interrupted something important.

“Well, I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to let you know that I’m thinking about you. And I can’t wait to see you soon.” I bite my lower lip, deep in thought of all the delicious and inappropriate things I want to do to him. God, I hope I don’t sound overeager and desperate.

“I know. Next weekend can’t get here soon enough.”

I smile. It is so good to hear his voice and know that he’s on the same page as me.

In the background I hear a female. I can’t make out what she says, but he quickly muffles the phone so his response is warbled. My stomach hits the floor and every nagging demon and insecurity I’ve been fighting to ignore the past few weeks rears their ugly head.

“Who-who’s that?” I have to ask even though I don’t want to know the answer to my question. Deep down, I know the real answer will crush my soul.

“No one,” he hesitates. “Just my friend Hailey.”

I think back through the dozens of conversations and texts we’ve shared, and this is the first he’s ever mentioned of a Hailey. He’s obviously never mentioned her because he doesn’t want me to know about her. And I just interrupted something.

Fuck.

“Hailey?” My voice cracks as her name leaves a bitter taste on my tongue.

“Yeah…” He lingers just a beat too long in silence. “I, uh, need to get going, Ivy. Have fun tonight, okay?”

“Wait, Phoenix…”

“Yeah?”

I want to ask him about her, put my paranoia to rest. But instead, I sigh softly, feeling my heart sulk and start to crumble in a dark corner of my soul.

“Never mind. I’ll talk to you later.”

I end the call without giving him a chance to respond. The monsters in my head viciously taunt me.
What goes around, comes around, Ivy. This is the universe paying you back for what you did to Genevieve all those years ago.

An internal war wages and logic tells me I’m simply jumping to conclusions because of the distance between us. I have to be. My past has no bearing on his present.

I
must
be reading into things. I
am
reading into things.

Fuck.

I can’t possibly be reading into things.

I choke back the tears to avoid ruining my mascara and my eyes focus in on the bottle of Gosset Grand Rose on ice in the corner. I quickly rip off the foil, pop the cork, bring my lips to the rim, and chug.

A PAIR OF GENEVIEVE’S SORORITY sisters are the first to arrive. They find me dry and fully clothed, lounging in the oversized bathtub, feet dangling over the side of the porcelain rim, and near-empty bottle in hand.

“Woah,” the red-haired girl drawls, looking at me bug-eyed. Her animated expression and subtle gap between her two front teeth remind me of Pippi Longstocking, minus the braids. “Are you okay, honey?” Her southern accent is as soothing as a hot mug of chamomile tea on a snowy afternoon.

As I sit up, the fizziness warming my chest shoots straight to my head. “S’alllllll good!”

The no-name blonde in tow with Pippi rolls her eyes. “Clean this up, will you? The others should be arriving soon.” She shakes her head and returns back to the living room of the suite.

Pippi puckers her lips in thought. “You’re the sister. Ivy, right?”

“Yep,” I state, popping the p. It’s hard not to wonder what terrible things Genevieve has told her friends about me. I’m certain I cannot make it through this evening with Little Miss Hailey running rampant in my mind while being judged by my sister’s friends for someone I once was.

Ugh
. Hailey. The name lingers on my tongue like spoiled milk. With a name like that she probably came into his life bare-breasted and riding on a unicorn that shits rainbows. She’s probably lying naked underneath him right now. She’s probably perfect.

And beautiful.

And easy.

And everything I am not.

Except for easy. No use in denying that now.

Fucking asshole. Why did I even bother? I knew all along it would end in disaster and I’d get hurt. I just thought it would take longer to get to that point.

New York cannot get here fast enough.

“I’m Mimi. Can I get you anything? A nap? Some water, perhaps?” Ah, Pippi has a name!
Mimi.
It’s just as trite. I’m sure it’s short for something … Amelia or Mariah or something equally irritating. Pippi is a much better fit for this chick.

Her perfectly plucked eyebrow arches up at me, but I can see the amusement in her eyes. She isn’t judging me at all. She finds me funny. A welcomed change from the rest of the world.

What do I need? Other than a fork to stab Phoenix’s eye out for making me feel and then hurting me like this?

Breakfast food. I need breakfast food.

“Waffffffles!” I practically sing my request before the hiccups take over. Mimi’s giggles sound like wind chimes. It’s delightful and I can’t help but smile.

“You are certainly nothing like your sister.”

Thank goodness for that.

“Okay. Let’s get you up and outta this tub. You should really try to sober up before the bride gets here. Genevieve will blow a gasket if she sees you like this.”

She’s right about that. Genevieve would shit bricks knowing that I drank her bubbly before she ever arrived.
Thunder stealer
, she’d likely call me. And tonight of all nights it’s the Genevieve show, starring, produced, and directed by Genevieve Cotter with her name strung up in lights. No, really … it is. Her name is lit up on a welcome sign downstairs in the lobby. Everyone with us tonight is just an inconsequential extra in the performance.

Mimi tugs at my arms, pulling me to my feet, and I step out over the rim of the bathtub, but my legs give out from under me and I find my cheek kissing the hard, cool marble floor as I stare at the intricate scrolling on the oversized claw foot tub.

I flop onto my back and laughter boils over. Mimi can’t help but join in finding hilarity in my clumsiness. Eventually, I manage to sit myself up straight and rest the back of my head against the ledge of the bathtub.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” Mimi fills a cup of water from the bathroom sink and sits down next to me on the floor. She offers a warm smile like an open invitation but doesn’t press me for details. I really don’t want to talk about it, especially with someone I just met. Plus, this isn’t exactly my finest moment.

“Guys suck.” I exhale in a huff.

And they do. Why is it that they always seem to have a hidden agenda and secrets? Damn them all! I thought I had found a good one. All of his sweet acts of kindness are meaningless. Null and void. And now he’s somewhere out there gallivanting with some trixie whore named Hailey.

“Oh, honey! I know they do.” Mimi passes me the water and I down it in one large gulp. She reaches out and smooths a few strands of hair behind me ear. Her touch is comforting. And even though I only met her a few minutes ago, it feels as if we’ve been lifelong friends. But that could just be the champagne talking.

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

If I talk about him, I’m going to spiral into even more of a wreck than I am right now. But if I don’t talk about him, it’ll eat at my insides and
then
I’ll spiral into even more of a wreck. It’s a no-win situation. I’ll be far better off cutting my losses and moving on before I allow myself to actually feel something serious for a guy I’ve known all of five minutes.

Stop lying to yourself, Ivy. You already do feel something for him.
Damn my nagging conscience.

Mimi offers a knowing nod and we sit there in silence. The buzz from the champagne is heavy and I feel as if my limbs are light.

My mind wanders to my sister and this ridiculous wedding. How the hell did
she
manage to find a guy? Her personality is as sweet as acid. Genevieve is
so
not deserving of love. She is a horrible person. My parents are horrible people. Nearly everyone in my life is horrible. And just when I think I find a nice guy, he turns out to be horrible too.

After a few minutes, Mimi begins to speak. “You know, all of us are shocked that Genevieve is the first to get married. I’ve always felt her relationship with CJ was synthetic. Hell, even her friendships feel forced. Amy had to practically drag me here today.”

She’d read my mind.

I offer her a consoling smile. “You should try living with her.”

Mimi scoffs. “I did. We roomed together for a semester at Chi Rho Gamma. Her nose was so high in the air I thought she would drown in a rainstorm. Her sense of self-entitlement was just unbelievable. Let’s just say it was short-lived and I moved out at the end of the fall semester. I like to claim artistic differences.”

“Mm-hmm.” I know exactly what she means. Genevieve has never been easy to be around. Her self-centeredness knows no bounds and she always found a way to play the victim. Although I assumed this was a side she reserved just for me and not her friends. Interesting that her friends have experienced this firsthand. She can be such a manipulative bitch.

“Why don’t we get you lying down? You can sleep off the heartache and the booze. I won’t tell Genevieve you kicked back one of the bottles by yourself and I’ll make sure Amy keeps her trap shut.”

Mimi pulls me to my feet again and leads me into the bedroom, tucking me under the overstuffed comforter gingerly. The last thing I remember is a blur of a fiery red hair closing the door before darkness took over.

I WAKE FROM MY NAP about two hours later with a splitting headache and a quiet suite. Mimi left a note on the nightstand letting me know that everyone was headed down to the spa for some much needed pampering and that she’d told Genevieve I’d eaten some bad maki rolls for lunch and wasn’t feeling well. I roll over to grab my phone off the nightstand and the urge to call Phoenix and give him a piece of my mind creeps into consideration. Instead, I force myself to put my phone away and make myself presentable for the afternoon’s festivities.

The living room is filled with gifts and the overnight bags of all of Genevieve’s alleged close friends. If they share the same attitude as Mimi, I can’t help but wonder if my sister ever feels truly lonely. Or truly loved. Or if she has any clue how much she is despised. Probably not, but I doubt she’d care much if she did know.

I quietly sneak into the spa, hoping to avoid a scene with Genevieve. Mimi spies my entrance from the end of the pedicure chairs and nods me over. I take a seat on the stool next to her chair.

“How are you feeling?”

“Slight headache and I think I may still be a little tipsy, but much better overall. Thanks again for helping me out earlier.”

“No problem, darlin’.” Her twang strangely makes me happy. “I know a broken heart when I see one.”

“So how pissed is she?”

“She seemed fine. Not really concerned that you were
ill
, but certainly not angry. Maybe she wanted to avoid a scene? Anyway, she’s getting her massage right now, so I bet she’ll be pretty mellow.”

I hope that Mimi is right. There is always a risk for whiplash with Genevieve’s mood swings and I definitely don’t want to deal with any of her potential extremes that could come out to play. The pedicure chair next to Mimi opens up and I hop onto it, slipping off my kitten heels.

By the time the nail technician applies a second coat of charcoal grey polish to my toes, Genevieve emerges from a massage suite all-aglow, looking blissfully relaxed. She kindly accepts the lemon water from her massage therapist before spotting me across the room.

“Oh, Ivy!” she exclaims, rushing to my side. “I heard you ate some bad sushi. Are you feeling better now?” I lean over the side of the chair as she pulls me tightly into a hug.

This is a surprise. Clearly she’s putting on a show for her so-called friends. Her fakeness knows no bounds. Thank goodness there’s still a bit of alcohol in my system or else this moment would be even more painfully awkward.

“Yes, I’m feeling quite a bit better. Thanks, Gen.” I give her a timid smile before she flits back to some of her other sorority sisters. On the other side of the room, Mimi bites back a giggle and shakes her head in disbelief.

“Genevieve makes it seem like you two have been best friends your entire lives. I don’t know how you put up with that nonsense,” she says once Genevieve is out of earshot. I’m appreciative of Mimi’s sympathies.

For as long as I can remember, Genevieve has always been two sides of the same coin. You never know who you’re going to get on any given day, but it usually depends on who surrounds her. Fortunately for me, her friends are providing a cushion so she is sweet as strawberry pie that is secretly laced with arsenic. Had she walked into the hotel room instead of Mimi and Amy, we would all be dealing with a raging bitch right now.

Upon returning to the grand suite, everyone frantically begins to get ready for the night. The bride-to-be has informed everyone to dress in black with bright pink highlights to coordinate with her official wedding colors. I’ve decided to pair my favorite fitted black jeans with a black leather corset top. I feel hot. And confident. But there is simply not enough makeup in the world to disguise my broken heart.