The Ivy House (A Queensbay Novel) (10 page)

Phoebe took a step into the shop. It was more than a shop, she supposed. North Coast Outfitters occupied prime real estate along the waterfront of Queensbay Harbor, adjacent to the Osprey Arms, and an easy place to stop for boaters and general tourists. She figured if she were going to make a deal with the devil, then she should get a better feel for him. Plus, she had some concerns over the terms of the contract, and it seemed more expedient to deal with Chase directly than go back and forth using lawyers, hers in Los Angeles and Chase’s in New York. After all, the two of them were in the same town.

Large black-and-white posters hung on the walls of the shop, pictures of people sailing in boats, sunning themselves, generally enjoying the good life. She took a closer look at one of the pictures and saw that, sure enough, it was Chase, at the helm of a large sailboat, standing on the deck like a modern-day pirate, winds filled, water foaming at the bow. She swallowed. He even looked sexy in black and white, his dark hair blown by the wind, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses, his hands large and capable at the wheel. She swallowed, suddenly thinking that it might be better to just send her comments to the lawyer.

She heard it then, a trilling happy laugh, and a stunning woman with dark hair stepped into view. Chase walked next to her, one arm around her shoulder. He said something to her, and she looked up at him and laughed again. Phoebe tensed. He hadn’t said he was single when she had given him the chance, but he hadn’t claimed to be dating anyone either. Had she mistaken the vibes she’d been getting from him all along?

Phoebe almost turned, ready to hurry back to Ivy House, when she was spotted.

“Phoebe.” Chase’s voice was sexy, still tinged with the laughter he had been sharing with the woman on his arm.

Without bothering to disentangle himself, he walked over to Phoebe. The woman under his arm glanced up at him and then over at Phoebe.

“Hello, I’m Caitlyn Randall.” She held out a hand and Phoebe couldn’t quite miss the way the light caught the enormous diamond on her hand. Phoebe felt herself stiffen and plastered what she hoped was a cool and professional smile on her face as she shook the other woman’s hand.

“Forgive me. Caitlyn, this is Phoebe Ryan, the new owner of Ivy House.”

Caitlyn’s eyes lit up and she glanced at Phoebe, speculation in her eyes. “Ivy House, you mean that beautiful old house just up from town? The one with the tower?”

“Yes, I suppose that would be the one.”

“Phoebe recently inherited it from her grandmother, Savannah Ryan.”

“Oh.” Interest lit up in Caitlyn’s eyes and Phoebe braced herself.

Instead of the usual questions, Caitlyn’s look turned serious. “I am so sorry for your loss. I loved your grandmother’s movies. All of them.”

“Thank you,” Phoebe managed to say, knowing she sounded stuffy, but she couldn’t help it. So, this was Chase’s type, this East Coast preppy looker. Caitlyn wore a simple wrap dress with knee-high boots and carried an understated leather bag. She looked like she would be equally at home on the deck of a boat in a retro two-piece or riding out on top of some great Charger, leading the hounds in snuffing out their quarry.

Phoebe thought she should have dressed better. What seemed to pass for California chic seemed hopelessly casual here. The morning had promised warmth today, so she had put on a pair of cut-off jeans and a flowing printed blouse and let her hair fall down loose, held back by her sunglasses.

“Well, good luck. Chase says you’re planning on doing some renovations before you sell. I can’t tell you how excited he is, he’s been dreaming of Ivy House…”

“Caitlyn, surely you need to get back to work,” Chase broke in smoothly. Caitlyn shot him a surprised look.

“Yes, the market waits for no woman,” she said and glanced over at Phoebe and then back to Chase.

“Be sure to say hi to Noah. Tell him I have those parts he wanted.”

“I will. And you make sure you keep my little surprise to yourself. His birthday’s coming up and I want him to truly be delighted.”

“My lips are sealed.”

Caitlyn turned to Phoebe again. “It was wonderful to meet you. Perhaps if you’re going to be in town for a while, I can convince you and Chase to come over for drinks. Noah hates to drink alone.”

“I’m sure that would be wonderful,” Phoebe said, puzzled by the comment.

“Chase, I’ll let you explain. Do you have a card, Phoebe? That way I can be sure to track you down. I find men are terrible with details like that.”

Before Phoebe had quite realized what had happened, she had exchanged cards with Caitlyn Randall.

“Noah as in Noah Randall?” she asked. She remembered now what Lynn had told her and realized she had just come in contact with one-half of a power couple.

“The very same. We go way back,” Chase explained, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and Phoebe saw that it was for him. She smiled. Perhaps it was like having a tableful of Hollywood legends over for Thanksgiving.

When she had told Chase she had some questions about the contract, he had quickly ushered her out of the store and across the street to a set of offices above a modern row of shops. People were busy working, and they paid them little mind, except to say hi to Chase as she followed him down the open floor plan and into his own office.

“Coffee, tea?”

“Coffee would be great,” she said. He pressed a button on his phone and ordered it.

“So you go way back with Caitlyn and Noah Randall?” she asked.

“Noah and Caitlyn live up along the east bank of the harbor. Caitlyn loves to entertain, so you better watch out. You will be getting a call from her. Oh, and she’s a financial advisor, so she’s likely to make sure that you’re getting the proper rate of return on your investments, and you can totally trust her. She’s like some sort of uber-mother hen.”

“I still don’t get the drinking-alone thing,” Phoebe said.

“She’s expecting. About three months along.”

“Looks great.” Phoebe felt her heart rate return to normal. So, the glow that hovered about Caitlyn had not been due to Chase’s grin.

Chase gave a shrug and a smile. “Hey, when I knew him, he was just a computer geek who liked playing video games. Who knew where it would lead him.”

Phoebe shot another look at Chase.

“What? Think I’m not refined enough for the likes of Noah Randall?”

“No, not at all. But you do seem a bit like the odd couple,” Phoebe said. There was a knock on the door and an older woman with reddish hair and freckles brought in a tray with a pot of coffee, cups, milk, and sugar. She set it down, reminded Chase he had a meeting, and left with a brisk, efficient nod in Phoebe’s direction.

“We were an odd couple,” Chase said, pouring her some coffee and then a cup for himself. “At first, but we both loved to sail. But I was better. So, Noah used me to win the Junior Cup at the Yacht Club.”

Phoebe frowned. “What did you get out of the deal?”

Chase shrugged. “You’d be surprised.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means Noah and I have been business partners for a long time. I invested in some software, and he invested in some hardware.” Chase made an encompassing gesture and Phoebe nodded.

“Smart.”

“And some luck. You never know where a friendship is going to lead you.”

Chase’s voice had dropped an octave and his grin was wolfish. “Caitlyn and Noah dated each other back when they were teenagers. I’ve known both of them a long time.”

Something about the easy way he said it made Phoebe jealous all over again. Chase seemed to be suggesting he had known both of them—in different ways—for a very long time. They had been very comfortable together. But then she remembered the look in Caitlyn’s eyes when she had said her husband’s name.

“Well, it’s nice to have old friends.” She kept the wistfulness out of her voice, glancing around the office as she did so. It was spare, a modern place or, she realized as she studied it, more like a ship’s cabin with lots of polished wood and discreet storage space. It was masculine without being overpowering. Unassuming, yet powerful and completely confident, much like Chase himself.

“So, you had some questions?” Chase’s eyes sparkled, the sunlight from the expansive windows catching them. His eyes were a deep, deep blue and she felt herself drawn into them, and then remembered why she had decided to track him down in the first place.

“Yes. I thought it would be easier to talk face-to-face instead of going through lawyers.”

“Quite right,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Well, I’m fine with just about everything but this part.” She handed him over a copy of the contract with the section highlighted.

He glanced it over and then looked over at her, amusement on his lips. “You’re saying that we can use your name, but not Savannah’s? Is there a problem with her?”

Phoebe shook her head, wiping her hands on her shorts. This was where she could have used some of Savannah’s acting skill. A scene played out, Savannah done up as a gangster moll, staring down some scary mob boss as she negotiated for the life of her lover. Or maybe it had been for her brother. There had been so many movies, it was hard to keep them all straight.

“No problem with her. But I would just prefer to make a go of it on my name alone. I have no problem with the catalog or press releases talking about me, but I would prefer not to have my relationship with her mentioned.”

“I thought you were close to her.”

Phoebe swallowed. “I was. And that’s why it would be nice to know people liked my work on its own merit. Not because of some old screen legend.”

“So no trading on famous relatives.” Chase took out a pen, crossed out a few lines of text, and put his initials next to it.

“Anything else?” he asked. There was a buzz on his phone. His eyes held her and the buzz was insistent. He pressed a button and his assistant’s voice filtered through. “Your next appointment is here.”

“That’s all,” Phoebe said. She knew she should go. They both had things to do, but something about his eyes pinned her in her seat and she felt a warmth spread over her, starting between her legs and crawling up over her body. She’d never had this reaction to a man just from his look. The question was what to do about it.

“Well, then I guess we have a deal.”

Phoebe smiled. “I suppose so.”

“Well, here’s to a profitable friendship,” he said. His eyes held hers and his intercom rang again.

She got up, pulling her bag with her.

“Thanks for stopping by. Next time, I’ll give you the grand tour.”

“That would be lovely,” Phoebe said, feeling awkward. “I guess I’ll be hearing from you.”

“Consider the deal done. I guess you better get to work. Are you going to be heading back to California to get started? I have to get out to the stores there soon. I am sure I could look you up?”

Phoebe remembered what Caitlyn had started to say about the house, so she smiled, chin drawn up, and channeled her best Savannah look.

“You know, one of the best things about a job like mine is that I take inspiration wherever I can find it.”

Chase had moved around the desk and they were standing close to one another. She could see the way his lips curled up in amusement, and she could feel in her stomach the way his low voice unnerved her.

“Are you feeling inspired?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

“As it so happens, I have always found that being by the water fills me with a lot of energy.”

He looked at her, a slow grin spreading over his face and she felt her body respond to him, heat licking through her as he took her hand to shake it and then brought it up to skim against his lips.

“Just creative energy?” he murmured.

“You can have my designs, but you can’t have me,” she responded.

“Are you sure about that? I told you: I always get what I want.”

She was stunned into silence for a moment, until the door opened, and the redheaded lady bustled in.

“Looks like that’s my cue to go,” she managed to stammer out, knowing she needed to get out and away from him.

“Is that a hard hat?” Phoebe stopped in surprise, looking at what Chase had in his hands.

“Yes, it is. Safety first.” Phoebe looked up quickly to see if he meant anything by that. There it was, just that sexy-as-hell Chase Sanders grin.

“But it’s pink,” Phoebe said.

“Well, it is for a girl.” Chase said. He took a step forward and she saw that he was dressed casually in faded jeans and a v-neck t-shirt that clung to his chest and abdomen, which showed off how flat his stomach was and the nice taper up to his broad shoulders.
Stop thinking about his shoulders,
she reminded herself.

“A girl?” Phoebe turned her attention back to the hard hat that Chase was still proffering. “Excuse me… For a lady,” he corrected himself.

“A lady.” Phoebe put down her bag on the scarred wood floor and took the helmet from Chase.

“You said the other day you were going to fix the old lady up, so I thought I’d give you a little housewarming present. And see if you needed a hand.”

“You can fix houses?” Phoebe heard the doubt creeping into her voice. She glanced around the room. Chase had found her in her studio, the light flooding in from the bank of windows. She had picked up some paint samples at the local hardware store, and there were large squares of them on the wall so she could decide between Café au Lait and Creamy Blond.

“No, but I know people around here who can. I would be happy to recommend some names to you. All good guys.”

Phoebe nodded. She had wondered if she’d have to resort to looking through Yellow Pages to find the names of plumbers and electricians, and the thought had filled her with dread. Taking a recommendation from someone was a much better move. Still, it was a lot of interest on Chase’s part for a house he professed to have no interest in.

“Do you treat all of your business acquaintances this way?” she asked, trying to keep her voice light. Right now, the room had one wall of built-in shelves, with cabinets on the bottom. She examined the hard hat more closely.

“I told you, we’re partners now. Hopefully, very profitable ones,” he countered.

Phoebe hefted the hard hat. It was heavier than she expected. “They really make pink ones?”

Chase laughed. “Not many. It’s a special order, but I know a guy in the business.”

“I’m sure you do.” Phoebe took a sip of her coffee, still looking at the helmet. She wasn’t sure what to do with it. Just how much demolition did Chase think the house needed?”

“You don’t think I’m going to need it, do you?” she asked, trying to see if he had an opinion.

“You never know,” Chase answered, still grinning.

“But…” Phoebe felt her mouth go dry. She thought about some new paint and curtains, but not any actual demolition.

Chase took a step closer to her and held out his hand. She wasn’t sure what he wanted, but then he reached out for her coffee cup. Mesmerized, she let him take it from her and watched as he took a sip, her eyes locked on his, his on hers. Slowly, he handed the cup back to her.

“Thanks. I needed that. Look, I happen to have spent a few summers working construction. Thought maybe I could help you do a walk-through, get a sense of what needs to be done now, what can wait.”

Phoebe felt herself swallowing hard, trying to forget the way his hand, warmed from the coffee cup, had burned against her skin and made her stomach do a flip.

“But we’re not going to be breaking anything, are we?” Phoebe asked, surprised to find her voice was low, throaty.

“Not unless you want to.”

Phoebe nodded. There was no reason for him to be holding her hand, but it had felt good. She decided not to dwell on it.

They wound up in the room she had decided would be the master bedroom. The floors were hardwood and she knew that they could be beautiful again.

“I know a guy who does floors. I asked him to swing by later, to take a look around, give you an estimate. They should be done all at once, upstairs, downstairs. That way, you can move in. You can always do your painting later.”

Phoebe nodded. “It would be good if I could at least get a bed in here by the end of the week.” Phoebe felt it, the slow burn of a flush. Somehow saying the word “bed” in front of Chase made her feel self-conscious. He had dropped her hand by this time, but was still standing close to her, and she couldn’t get over the feeling of being on edge, like she had drunk five espressos in a row and the caffeine was buzzing through her in overdrive.

“Really? I didn’t know you were in such a hurry to get set up. Is someone waiting for it?”

It took her a moment to figure out what Chase meant.

“I…” she stuttered, cursing her fair skin, feeling the blush crawl up her cheeks and to the roots of her hair.

“So you’re just eager to get moved in?” he said, his eyes laughing at her.

“I’d rather not spend that much more time in the hotel. The Osprey Arms is fine, but I hadn’t figured on making it a permanent home.”

“I like that one.” He had come up behind her, and pointed to the middle shade of blue on the paint chip Phoebe was holding. “I’m sure I could arrange a deal for you, since you’re practically living there.”

“Don’t tell me… You know the manager.” Phoebe said, the memory of the way he had seemed so comfortable at the Osprey Arms coming back to her.

Chase shrugged. “Maybe I do.”

“Well, thank you, but I already did.” The shade Chase liked was deeper than she would have gone for, but it was bold too. “I’m a grown woman; I can take care myself. I happen to have plenty of experience negotiating for myself.”

“I am sure you can come down hard on them when you want.” She could feel him, his bulk and heat behind, and the way his breath whispered in her ear and tickled her hair, which was up in a ponytail. She fought to control the shiver that ran down her spine and the little delicious flame of heat that flicked below her stomach, between her legs. Desperately wanting to put some distance between herself and Chase, she almost took a step away, but she couldn’t; she was trapped there, loving the feeling of him close to her.

“I manage to get what I want most of the time,” she managed to say in a husky voice.

“I can imagine.” She turned slightly to face him so that her eyes were almost level with his chin. One of his arms was still around her and she could smell him, a mix of soap and spicy aftershave, melding together in a heady combination that made her knees feel just slightly wobbly.

His hand grasped her wrist and pulled her closer to him. She met his eyes, could see that they were dark, liquid, as if consumed by something. His nostrils flared and he leaned in, smelling her hair.

“You smell amazing,” he said, his voice a hoarse, ragged whisper. She felt any last inhibitions melt away, and she wasn’t quite sure who moved first so that they were facing each other and she was encircled in the strong span of his arms.

It seemed as if time stood still, and Phoebe was aware of everything, from the fresh breath of air that wafted in from the window that was propped open to the sound of a bird singing and the whisper of the new green leaves in the trees. And then she heard the sound of her own heart beating and could hear Chase’s ragged breath as his gaze roamed over her, taking her in, his blue eyes dark.

“What was that?” They sprang apart, and Phoebe’s eyes traveled up to the ceiling. Dust trickled down and the hanging light fixture swung slightly. Her heart was thumping, and she had clutched her hands to her chest, no longer in the strong confines of Chase’s arms.

It came again, another crash and then a scurrying sound. Chase’s head was cocked up and he watched the ceiling. A slow smile came over his face.

“Squirrels, a raccoon maybe, in the attic.”

“Yuck.” Phoebe wasn’t crazy about animals. Sure, dogs were fine and cats OK, but anything else…especially in her house, was just too off-putting to think about. Somehow, she hadn’t thought about that aspect of living in the country when she’d been dreaming of Ivy House.

“Where are the stairs?” Chase asked. He was still looking up, completely oblivious to her, and it was with supreme disappointment that she realized he was not going to kiss her after all.

“Stairs?”

“To the attic.” There was a touch of impatience in his voice. “They could be getting away.”

“You’re going to go up there?”

“Sure. How else are we going to get rid of them?” he said.

Call an exterminator,
Phoebe thought, but didn’t voice it. “What about rabies?” she said instead.

“I’m not going to catch them. I just need to find out where they’re coming in from. And then we can set traps and get them out.”

“Kill them?” All of a sudden, Phoebe didn’t relish the thought of killing innocent animals. After all, in their minds, they had been there first.

“No, of course not. We’ll set special no-kill traps, catch them and then release them. But we need to find out how they’re getting in so they don’t get right back in. So, the stairs?” he said again, his impatience marked with a smile.

Phoebe thought for a moment. “In the hallway.”

She led the way out of the bedroom towards the door that led to a closet. It was big for one, an odd-shaped room above the stairs, and it had a round window in it. “Up there.”

There was a trap door in the ceiling, with a rope hanging from it.

“You might want to stand back,” Chase said.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t call someone?” Phoebe asked. Chase had pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and was already pulling on the rope. It was stuck and he handed the flashlight to Phoebe as he put both hands on the rope, tugging hard.

With a squeak and a groan, the door came free and a cloud of dust fell down. Chase was quick, and he sidestepped the dust storm easily, pushing Phoebe out of the way so she was spared the worst of it. Still, grime swirled in the air, and she could feel it settling in her hair.

There was a ladder folded up against the underside of the door and Chase reached up and swung it down. It gave another protesting squeak and then there was silence. In agreement, the two of them paused and listened. The rustling had stopped, Phoebe noted with relief.

Chase put his foot on the bottom rung, tested his weight, turned, took the flashlight from Phoebe, and shot her a wink.

“If I’m not back in five, call in the cavalry.”

Phoebe was about to protest, but then she remembered it was just an attic. She watched his amazingly cute backside disappear into the gloom above. There was a pause, silence and she half-expected to hear a scream; she could feel the tension erupting in her.

“Hey, Phoebe, you’re going to want to see this.”