The stage assistant came running up just then, out of breath from his search. “Someone said that Blake had to do a last-minute interview in his office.”
Ivy tried not to be disappointed, but she couldn’t help the sinking feeling in her chest. He’d missed it. He’d been in his office with some reporter talking about the Rosewood football program instead of hearing her sing her heart and soul out to him.
Her bodyguard, Dominick, came up and put a reassuring hand on Ivy’s shoulder. He’d flown out with Kevin to help with fan control during the concert, and it was amazing how much more comfortable she felt with him by her side. He was six foot four, tw
o hundred and forty pounds of security. “Let’s go find him,” he said in his comforting low rumble of a voice. “Bring your guitar. Maybe he can get a private performance. That might be a better way to hear the song anyway.”
Ivy nodded. Maybe he was right. “Kevin, I have to go find him.”
“Good luck. I’m sure it will go great. I’m jetting out of here in about two hours, so if you can, catch me before then to say good-bye, okay? Otherwise I’ll get with you in LA later next week.”
Ivy leaned in to give Kevin a hug. He looked a little stunned but didn’t pull away, reminding Ivy that she’d never hugged her manager before. She’d been in the South too long, she thought with a chuckle. “’Night, Kevin.”
“How do we get to his office from here?” Dominick asked.
Pointing to the nearby band building, Ivy said, “That’s the side entrance to the band room. We can cut through there.”
Dominick made a path with his mere presence, easily escorting Ivy to the door and inside the school. They navigated through the maze of hallways, finally arriving at Blake’s makeshift office.
There was a paper sign on the door that said COACH CHAMBERLAIN over the PRIVATE sign of what was normally the teacher prep room. The door had no windows, so Ivy couldn’t tell if he was done with his interview or not.
Leaning her ear to the heavy wood door, she couldn’t hear any voices. She reached for the knob, finding it unlocked. Dominick waited to the side as she pushed the door open and stuck her head inside.
Ivy didn’t remember the breaking of her heart making a noise the first time, but this time, there was literally a sound. It was the deafening shatter of her guitar falling to the ground, mingled with her own gasp.
Blake was not in his office with a journalist. He was in there with Lydia. A mostly nude Lydia.
Ivy couldn’t speak. Lydia had been telling the truth all this time. How was that possible? Her eyes just kept darting around the room, waiting to see something that made sense. The round cheeks of Lydia’s ass hanging out of those red lace panties certainly didn’t make sense. Nor did the fact that Blake’s hands were on her bare skin.
Blake’s eyes widened as he saw her. In a flash, he shoved Lydia out of the way. “Ivy!” he said, running to her, but she’d taken off his letterman jacket and threw it in his face. He tripped over her guitar, stumbling for a moment. By the time he cast it aside and recovered, she’d slammed the door shut.
She turned to Dominick. “Get me out of here,” she said, barely able to keep back her tears.
Dominick’s large arm encircled her shoulders, quickly ushering her at a jogging pace down the hallway. He radioed for a car to meet them at the nearest side entrance as they zigzagged through the halls.
Blake’s panicked shouts of her name came quick behind them, but she wouldn’t stop. She knew he couldn’t catch her. Not with his leg. “Ivy! Wait. Please. It’s not what you think.”
Ivy didn’t turn. She just kept moving. He’d said those same things the last time, and it had been exactly what she thought. And this time it was so much worse. It was with Lydia. Lydia! The one he swore he wasn’t involved with. The one he said he wasn’t attracted to.
Ivy was a fool. She’d just announced to the whole damn world that she loved Blake and always had. Then she found him with his hands on another woman, just like back in college.
They burst out a side door just as a black sedan pulled up. Dominick quickly ushered Ivy into the car and climbed in behind her. The minute the door shut, the wheels of the car spun into motion and they peeled away from the high school.
Ivy looked out the back window in time to see Blake burst through the door and watch her drive away. He had the same broken expression he’d had as she drove away from him that night at Auburn. This time, she didn’t know if it was the pain from his leg or the hurt of knowing he’d screwed this up. Again. Either way, she hoped he suffered.
She certainly would. He thought it was bad having to hear “Size Matters” on the radio all the time. How did he think she would feel having to perform “I’ve Never Stopped Loving You” for the rest of her career? It was her new single. She’d have to perform it on late-night talk shows and at concerts for the next few years. Every time she opened her mouth to sing that song, she’d picture him with Lydia and her lace-covered ass cheeks.
Ivy squeezed her eyes shut and turned to face forward. Wiping the tears from her face, she leaned in toward the driver. “Take me to the cabin,” she told him. “And radio the pilot of Kevin’s jet not to leave without both of us. I want to pack my things and get back to LA tonight.”
Blake’s entire leg was on fire, but it was nothing, nothing compared to the ache in his chest. As the taillights of Ivy’s car disappeared into the night, he realized he’d good and truly lost her this time. There would be no third chance. There would be no trust rebuilt between them.
And it was all Lydia’s fault. The first time he and Ivy had broken up, he’d been guilty. This time, he was innocent. He should’ve left the moment he saw Lydia in his office, but he’d wanted to figure out what her angle was. He didn’t really think she was going to the cops to confess, but if not that, then what? The next thing he knew, her dress had pooled to the floor and she was standing there in nothing but lingerie.
That. That was what she had planned. Every time he tried to step around her to get out of his office, she’d step in his path. Then she started to close in on him. He’d put his hands on Lydia to push her away and in that moment, of course, Ivy had come in and seen them. The most evil smile had broken out across Lydia’s face and he knew she’d deliberately set him up to get caught.
She had to be stopped. Somehow, her twisted little brain was just certain that once Ivy was gone, Lydia would have him all to herself. In her dreams.
“Hey, Blake!” Clark Newton, the owner of the Rosewood newspaper, shouted at him from down the street. “Was that Ivy leaving just now?”