Chapter Eight
Ivy straightened the covers of her bed, smoothing the quilt and fluffing the pillow. She ran a hand through her tangled hair, then waited until her breathing was calm and steady. With a forced smile, she opened the door to admit Darren to her room.
He had removed his jacket but was still wearing the pleated tuxedo shirt and black pants with the narrow cummerbund. His tie was missing, and the shirtfront and cuffs were gaping open. His hair, always so perfect, was mussed, spilling over a forehead marred by a frown. Gone was the smug facade, the boyish charm. He was the picture of despair.
“I needed to talk to you without anyone knowing about it,” he began, slumping into a chair.
“What’s wrong, Darren?”
He clasped his hands between his knees. “I need to borrow some money, Ivy.”
“Why?”
“There was a message in my room. Melanie is in Reno. She’s filed for divorce. I need money.”
“How much?”
“Fifty thousand dollars.”
“Fifty—” She swallowed convulsively. “That’s impossible. How could I come up with that kind of money?”
He hedged. “Emery Norton said you were a successful artist.”
“But you don’t understand what he meant. I equate success with feeling good about my work. The public, the art critics, are beginning to like what I do. I’m growing in my craft. Each year I feel stronger, more sure of what I’m doing. That’s success, Darren. Not the amount of money I can command for a painting.
“Are you saying you can’t come up with a few thousand dollars for a friend?”
“I don’t have that kind of money.”
“But you could. You could go to Aunt Gertrude.”
“Why should I? Why don’t you go to your aunt or Caine?”
“I’ve borrowed my limit from both of them.”
“And never paid them back?”
He nodded. “I’ve tried. But every time I get some money saved, something comes up.” He shrugged. “Melanie says spending money is twice the fun of saving it.”
“And of course you always do everything Melanie says.”
He glanced up at her. “It’s easy for you to flaunt your independence, Ivy. You don’t know what it’s like to want someone so badly you ache.”
He missed the look of pain that crossed her face. “I miss her so much. I don’t want to go on without her.”
“It doesn’t sound as if you can go on with her either, Darren. If you keep on this way, she’ll turn you into a beggar, or worse.” Oh, Darren. What have you become? Ivy thought. A thief? A blackmailer?
“I’d beg, to keep Melanie’s love.”
“Would you steal for her? Threaten people you love?”
At Ivy’s sharp tone, Darren looked up. “What’s wrong, Ivy? Why are you so angry?”
“I feel ashamed for you. And you should feel ashamed of yourself. Do you really believe Melanie left you because of money?”
“Of course.”
“Then you’re better off without her. Love, real love, would never have a price tag. If she really loved you, she’d want to be with you, have to be with you, no matter what. When two people love each other, it doesn’t matter what their careers are, or how very different they may be in temperament.” Her voice trailed off for a moment, as Ivy realized she wasn’t lecturing Darren any longer. She was speaking to her own heart as well.
With Caine, she could be herself. He listened to her and understood what she was saying. He made her laugh, something she needed in her life. And in his arms, she felt a fulfillment she’d never known before. Despite the fact that they were very different personalities, she sensed that they would be good for each other. Only with Caine was she truly vital, vibrantly alive.
“Maybe she left you because you weren’t man enough to stand up for what you believed to be right.”
Darren stood and walked to the door. “This is exactly what I needed. Another lecture. All I’m asking is that you go to Aunt Gertrude and borrow some money for me.”
“Why would she be willing to loan me money?”
“Just take my word for it, Ivy. She will.”
She shot him a puzzled, angry look. “You’re not making much sense tonight, Darren. Now let me get some sleep.”
“You won’t go to my aunt?”
“Certainly not. I have no intention of borrowing money for you. It’s time you faced some responsibility.”
“What happened to the sweet little Ivy I used to know? Years ago I used to be able to con you into doing my homework while I played football. I even managed to beat you at hockey sometimes.”
Despite her dismay at his display of weakness, she walked up and put her arms around his neck. “I’d forgotten that. You really were a pro at getting other people to help you out. That little girl you knew grew up. I think you should do the same.”
Standing on tiptoe she kissed him lightly. “I know that underneath it all you’re a good man, Darren. I suggest you pull yourself together and learn to stand alone. Then, and only then, look for a good woman to share your life.”
He seemed genuinely frightened by her words. “I’ve never been alone, Ivy. There was always Caine, or Aunt Gertrude, or Melanie. I’m not sure I can stand to be alone, even for a little while.”
She opened the door. “You’ll survive, Darren. And you’ll get to know yourself. And with some patience, you might even discover strengths you never knew you had. I’m willing to bet if you give it a chance, you’ll like the person you become.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “I guess I have no choice. I’m going to be alone whether I like it or not.” Some of the old charm crept into his smile. “Do you think you could at least loan me a couple of hundred?”
“Oh.” She gave him an exasperated shove into the hallway and firmly closed the door.
As he walked away she could hear him chuckle.
She was glad she had made him smile for a few minutes. But the truth was, she would have to tell Aunt Tru what she suspected. Darren had seemed desperate enough to resort to blackmail.
Peeling off her robe, Ivy snapped off the light and crawled into bed. The bedside clock read four o’clock. Practically dawn. With so many thoughts crowding her mind, she wondered if she would be able to sleep for even an hour.