“So that’s why Will came running back to L.A. before the summer was over. You couldn’t stand to be away from your little boy toy, could you?” Dave’s voice sounds three octaves higher as he grabs a glass of water, tossing it in Warren’s face. “Just because you’re younger than me doesn’t give you the right to sleep with some hot piece of ass just because you feel like it!”

“You jerk! You know this scarf is Hermes! The water stains will never come out!” Warren shrieks, changing his tone as Dave storms out of the restaurant. “Wait, darling! I can explain. He wasn’t even that good.”

I snicker as Warren runs after his beloved, soaking wet. But the way Ivy’s looking at Will—now that’s priceless. Talk about being shell-shocked. How could she not know Will’s gay? I mean, really. No straight guy cares that much about his appearance.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Ivy stares at Will, a pained expression on her face.

“Sorry to burst your bubble,” he says, swirling the ice in his glass.

“I don’t care who you sleep with, Will, but it shouldn’t be for money,” Ivy responds, clearly troubled. “You’re not out here going to film school. You’re selling your body to the highest bidder.”

“Huh, that’s funny. You don’t care that I’m gay, just that I’m trying to earn a living off it,” he remarks snidely. “You don’t know how hard it is to make it in L.A., Ivy. There’s no way I’m going to bust my ass waiting tables when I can be making a hell of a lot more utilizing my natural assets. Hell, I’d be a fool not to.”

“Hear, hear,” I cry, mocking him. But I’ve had about enough drama for one morning. It’s time to get back to business. “I could go on about how I could strip Ben of his football scholarship and report Eric’s buddy Jack to the IRS for tax evasion, but we have a more pressing matter to discuss, namely Cassidy.”

“Real classy to speak ill of the dead,” Will responds as he spins his knife on the tablecloth.

“What, am I boring you, Will? I assure you I can tell Ivy about more of your sexcapades, if you’d like.” I smile sweetly at him as he sits back in his seat, glumly removing his hands from the table. “I think you consider yourself more of a bisexual, wouldn’t you say? I remember the time…”

“That won’t be necessary,” he replies.

Ah, it’s touching how he still wants Ivy to idolize him. He doesn’t want me to talk about our closed-door exploits that involved a lot more than a pair of pantyhose. Very well. I’ll oblige, for now.

“Turns out Cassidy isn’t as innocent as the world was led to believe.” I raise an eyebrow, goading them.

“What are you talking about?” Ivy asks somewhat reluctantly.

“I have it on very good authority that she was getting a little extra on the side, if you know what I mean.” I revel in bandying about this bit of gossip. It’s like igniting a tinderbox as Ivy and Will start talking at once.

“You’re such a liar!” Ivy cries.

“Where do you come up with this stuff?” Will asks.

“Don’t believe me? Fine. I’ll reveal the proof when the time is right, but for now, here’s what’s going to happen. Ivy, you’re going to write Cassidy’s true story, the way it should’ve been told, and Will, you’re going to work your contacts and make sure this film sees the light of day. It shouldn’t be too hard. Everyone loves a tale of a good girl gone bad.”

“And if we don’t?” Will stalls, waiting to hear just how much leverage I have on them.

“Will, I hope you survive prison because you have jailbait written all over you.” I shift my gaze over to Ivy. “And when the bank forecloses on Eric’s house and then the garden center, it’s going to be really hard supporting a newborn baby without a college degree, isn’t it? So why don’t I give you a little incentive?”

“Like what?” Ivy asks, even though she’s reluctant to engage.

“I’ll sign off on that letter. You’ll get your internship credits and move forward with your education. Whether or not you graduate is up to you, but at least you won’t be stuck in limbo anymore.” It’s what Ivy’s always wanted from me, even as she used her connection with Ryan to get it. It’s like dangling a fresh, juicy carrot in front of a starving rabbit. Of course she’s going to bite.

“And how am I going to attend class at the main campus when I have a new baby? They don’t exactly allow infants in the dorms.” Her logic is sound, but I’m already prepared for that argument.

“That’s why the term stay-at-home dad is so wonderfully appropriate, don’t you agree?” I retort, my eyes gleaming.

“And Eric and I are going to live on what in the meantime?” Ivy asks, and I can see the idea already taking shape in her mind. She wants this. I know she does.

“The royalties from the screenplay,” I remark, sliding the last piece of the puzzle into place.

“And you think Eric is going to agree to this? It’ll break his heart,” Will says, trying to get Ivy to see the light. But it’s already too late. She’s mine now.

“He doesn’t have a choice. I either do this or we lose everything,” Ivy groans, wincing in pain.

“Ivy, are you okay?” Will hurries over to her as she leans forward, nearly taking the tablecloth with her.

“So can I take that as a yes?” I loom over her prostrate form until she nods, gasping for breath. “Good. I’ll be in touch.”

I stand up and brush off my skirt as Will kneels before Ivy, urging her to calm down. She’s in some kind of distress as a puddle of red appears beneath her on the white linen chair. Oh dear, what a mess.

I unclasp my clutch and throw some bills on the table. Everyone’s distracted by Ivy’s cries. Now is the perfect time to make my escape. I slip my sunglasses onto my face and stride out of the restaurant. All I hear as I make my way out the door is Will yelling, “Can someone call an ambulance?”

I never intended for Ivy to miscarry, but if she does, she does. There’s nothing I can do about it now. I didn’t mean to get her so upset that it would put her baby’s life in danger. She really needs to grow up and learn how to handle things. I outplayed her, simple as that. Just because she couldn’t admit defeat doesn’t make me liable for whatever happens to her. She’s too high-strung for her own good. Maybe this will teach her a lesson. She needs to learn that she’s not the one in control.

I am.

Ivy

I feel warmth flow through me as I close my hand.

Someone’s holding on to me. My problems are lifted from my shoulders as I float outside of my body. It’s nice not having a care in the world. I can get used to this. It feels good.

There’s a light burning behind my eyes, but I don’t want to face it. It seems too bright, like it would hurt more than staring at the sun. I’m not in the dark, but I’m not completely in the light either. It’s like some sort of strange eclipse between worlds. Somewhere I’ve never been before. I’m intrigued. I want to stay. I want to learn more.

My ears are blocked like they’re filled with cotton. Noises are muffled and I can’t make out any of the words being said. The only thing cutting through is a beep, a metallic rhythm that sounds foreign like it doesn’t belong here. It’s too sharp, too grating, too repetitive. Why won’t it just go away and let me sleep? I’m so tired. All I want to do is rest, but that beeping noise won’t quit.

I move my head and the fingers surrounding my hand tighten, tethering me to that other world. But I don’t want to go back there. Why can’t they just leave me alone? Why are they pulling me toward that place of pain, that agony that ripped through me? I can’t believe someone would be so cruel as to make me experience that again. I give up. I surrender. I don’t want to fight anymore.

But there’s that beeping again. I can’t ignore it. It’s what is drawing me back, calling out to me through the fog. My heart recognizes and responds, beating in sync to it. What is this force and why does it have such a hold over me? Why won’t it just let me be? Why does it need me so much?