“She called me back after I left her a message about Ivy,” Will protests, turning around as his shoe squeaks loudly on the tiled floor. “I had to know what was going on and how she was going to play this.”

“And?” Eric asks dryly.

“She gave me the whole false sincerity bullshit, but she expects us to get back on schedule once Ivy is released from the hospital.” Even Will sounds defeated as he pats my leg beneath the blanket. “There’s no getting out of it. She’s not going to let us walk away. She thinks that if Ivy can breathe then she can write.”

“I can’t fucking believe this,” Eric mumbles, his voice muffled as he holds his head in his hands.

“Tell me about it,” Will groans. “It took us months to come up with the first draft and she’s only giving us until Christmas, basically a little over eight weeks to turn it around. It’s going to be virtually impossible in Ivy’s fragile condition, but try telling her that. As soon as Ivy gets back on her feet, she’s going to want to do it. She’ll think she can swoop in and save the both of us.”

“And what’s gnawing at me is that we might not have a choice. If Lauren starts calling in my loans, I can’t repay them. Everything’s going to collapse like a house of cards. I can’t bring this baby into the world without any means of supporting it. She has us, plain and simple.” Eric says, sounding confused and out of options.

“You really think she has that much sway over the bank manager?” Will asks, filling a glass from a pitcher of water positioned somewhere near my head.

“Sway? Her stepdad sits on the board of directors. You might as well say he owns the bank. If I default, it’ll hurt my credit rating across the board. I might not be able to purchase new inventory next spring. I’ll be dead in the water. I’m barely hanging on as it is. One ripple like that and it’s all over.” Eric shifts in the chair, rustling the cushion beneath him.

“Ivy knew her stepdad long before Lauren did. She even mentioned to me once how much he liked her when she was still friends with Ryan. Do you really think he’d ruin her like that?” Will questions before nervously gulping down the water.

“That’s the thing. He wouldn’t be ruining her. He’d be ruining me—the guy who created a public spectacle kissing his stepdaughter, the guy who stole Ivy then beat up his son. Yeah, I don’t think he’d have any problem burying me,” Eric admits, sitting back in the chair with a sigh.

“But it’d be affecting her too, wouldn’t it?” Will presses. “I mean, she is pregnant with your child and the two of you live together. If you lose your house and your business, then she’s homeless and broke too.”

“Not if she loses the baby and goes back to school,” Eric mutters under his breath.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You really think they’d sink that low?” Will grips the edge of the blanket, slightly pulling it down from around my shoulders.

“Ivy was writhing in pain in a puddle of her own blood and Lauren walked away, leaving her there. That right there tells me she’s capable of anything.” Eric’s hand is back on my forehead as I feel his warm breath on my face.

“So are you going to go ahead with your plan to take Ivy back to Pennsylvania when she’s able to travel?” Will questions somewhat nervously.

“Yeah, there’s no way I’m leaving her in L.A. She needs the safety and security of those she loves around her. I’m not letting her out of my sight again.” Eric leans down and gently kisses my closed eyelids.

“There’s just one little problem,” Will interjects, getting up and wheeling what sounds like a suitcase out of the corner of the room. “Dave had Warren kick me out of their poolhouse. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“And why should I care?” Eric asks, annoyed.

“Because I hold the rights to this little screenplay, and without me, Lauren doesn’t get to ruin your former flame.” Will huffs, hitting Eric where it counts.

“What do you mean former?” Eric seethes.

“Oh yeah, that’s right. This is the part we didn’t get a chance to discuss yet.” Will scoots his chair closer to the bed as I feel him lean over my body.

I wish I could kick him to shut up. He can’t tell Eric about Cassidy. He’ll freak. He needs to hear it from me. Someone who will break it to him gently and not rub it in his face. This is going to send Eric over the edge—if he’s not already there. Damn it, Will. Why do you always have to be such a prick?

“I’m all ears,” Eric says mockingly, stretching his arms above his head. “Tell me why I should support your sorry ass while you work on this with Ivy? Because truthfully, I don’t want you anywhere near her.”

“You’re offering me a place to stay?” Will asks, taken aback.

“I might if you can pick up the slack and let Ivy rest,” Eric muses aloud. “If you need Ivy to come up with the ideas, fine. But she’s not going to be spending hours hunched over a computer or communicating with Lauren in any way. You’re going to handle the majority of the workload, serving as the go-between when it comes to the two of them.”

“And you want me to stay in your house with you and Ivy?” Will asks, pushing his luck.

“I don’t think so,” Eric says smugly. “I’ll set you up with a cot and a kerosene heater in the woodshed out back. If you need to shower, you can use the facilities at the garden center.”

“Are you serious?” Will asks, his excitement over Eric’s offer clearly ebbing.

“There’s nothing wrong with roughing it, Will, especially when you don’t have anywhere else to go. Besides, when you’re not working on the screenplay, I could use an extra hand around the garden center. The Christmas tree season can get pretty hectic. You look like a guy who likes to work with his hands.” Eric must be enjoying this because he starts to chuckle.

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you, Young? Well, let me tell you something. This screenplay isn’t going to be about Cassidy’s heroic battle against cancer or your gag-inducing love story.” Will is working himself up into full rant mode.

I have to stop him. Drawing on what little energy I can muster, I open my parched lips and try to moan, even though it comes out more like a croak.

The distraction works because Eric’s attention immediately shifts to me. “Ivy, are you okay? Are you trying to say something? Do you need me to get the nurse?”

He bombards me with questions, but I don’t have the strength to answer them. Damn these sedatives. That last surge of adrenaline left me with nothing. I feel myself slipping away again. Oh no, please no. I have to make sure Will doesn’t say anything about Cassidy. I can’t fall asleep—not now.

The last thing I hear before I lose consciousness is Will muttering something about perfect timing and then I black out.

Eric

Today’s the day Ivy gets to leave the hospital.

I smile with relief as the doctor signs off on her release, leaving us alone in the room. Will brought her suitcase over from the hotel, so I rummage through it, trying to find something warm enough for her to wear. My dad said the temperature is in the forties back home. I don’t want her to be shivering when she gets off the plane.

“What are you doing?” she asks, eyeing me from across the room.

Even after repeated assurances that she is well enough to travel, she still looks frail to me with her hospital gown hanging loosely over one shoulder. She’s lost weight at a time when she should be gaining it. Her hair is pulled back in a lopsided ponytail, thanks to my handiwork, and her freshly scrubbed face looks pale and tired. She’s lost that healthy glow that’s surrounded her since she learned that she was pregnant. Now she seems worn out and scared. I hate how Lauren took that away from her. She transformed the joy Ivy felt for the child growing inside of her and twisted it into something to worry about and fear.