Holly versus Mr. Ivy by Amanda P. Jones
Chapter 13
Rhett
we’reonlyfriends vibe, filled the room, like we were in one of those plastic ball pits. As much as I tried to relax while watching Wreck It Ralph, I couldn’t breathe, like when as a kid, I’d thought I would never get out of that grimy ball pit of death.
Did she really have to sit on the opposite end of the sectional to prove her point? Her head twisted at an odd angle to watch the television. If she moved to the seat by mine, her head wouldn’t be so strained. I’d call her out on it, but her mom seemed to be so caught up in the movie that I didn’t dare.
When Holly had first mentioned her mom joining us, I’d thought she was using her as a buffer. Now I understood. Holly’s mom was sick. This must be the vague “thing” she couldn’t get out of to come into work early. She had to help her mom, and that was probably why Holly lived here. What was Deidre’s illness? Cancer? MS? Heart failure? A different disease? The scarf on her head indicated hair loss, possibly from cancer treatment. I’d have to ask Holly later.
I also wanted to ask Holly where her non-work clothes had been hiding, because those jeans. Daa-ang. From the moment I’d seen Holly, her beauty and fiery spirit had captured my attention. But the pants she wore to work, while flattering, had nothing on the way her petite yet delicious curves fit into those jeans, showing off her assets to perfection. A part of me longed to take her in my arms, to let my hand slide a little low to fully appreciate her backside.
I didn’t want another romantic relationship, but the moment Holly had turned around by the front door, I had been tempted to retract my statement because attraction had flared to life in my gut. Sure, I came across gorgeous women all the time. But Holly was different.
Thankfully, sanity won out, and I tamped downall feelings other than friendship. I refused to mess up my chances for promotion to regional manager.
The movie credits played. Deidre stirred to my left, where she sat in the recliner. I blinked, amazed that I’d watched the entire movie but hadn’t seen a single moment of Ralph and Vanellope’s story. My popcorn bowl sat untouched in my lap.
“That was adorable. I can’t believe we haven’t seen it before,” Deidre said, stretching her arms above her.
“There’s a second one, if you want to stay and watch it,” Holly offered, twisting her neck side to side.
Stubborn woman.
Deidre shook her head. “I’m wiped. Maybe I’ll watch the other one tomorrow. I’m going to take a nap.”
“Do you want lunch first?” Holly stood.
“Just some pudding. I’ll eat in my bed.” Deidre gripped each armrest, ready to work herself to standing.
I jumped forward, setting the popcorn on the coffee table. “May I help you get to where you need to go?”
Holly stopped halfway across the room, waiting for her mom’s response.
She smiled softly at me. “That would be just fine, Rhett. Thank you.”
I moved to the side of the green recliner, gripping her forearms. “On the count of three. Ready?”
She bobbed her navy and green silk-scarved head.
“One. Two. Three.” I pulled her up until she stood. I bent down, snatching the blanket from the floor so she didn’t trip.
“Thank you.”
“Do you need help getting to your room?” I asked.
Her eyes held a teasing glint. “We’ve just met. I think it’s a little too soon to be asking to see my bedroom.”
Holly let out a mortified gasp. “Mom!”
I burst out in laughter. I liked Deidre’s humor. “You saw right through me. I’ll have to work harder next time,” I teased.
She winked at me. “I can make it on my own. It was a pleasure to meet you, Rhett. Please don’t be a stranger.”
I grinned. “With a spitfire like you, I won’t be able to stay away.”
Deidre looked at Holly and pointed at me. “I like him.”
A satisfied smile lifted my lips. I mouthed to Holly, “She likes me.”
Holly rolled her eyes at us. “I’ll be there in just a minute, Mom.”
I followed Holly into the kitchen. “Your mom is nice.”
She opened the fridge, grabbing a green bowl with a plastic lid from the top shelf. “She is. I’m sure you flirting with her will be the highlight of her year.”
“I wasn’t flirting,” I denied. “She was.”
She snorted. “You just can’t help yourself, can you? It doesn’t matter the age or marital status. You will flirt with any female.”
Being nice and friendly did not mean flirting. I never led anyone on. Bantering was fun, and I enjoyed moments like the one I’d shared with Deidre just now, but I’d never do anything to jeopardize someone else’s relationship or make a woman think I was interested when I wasn’t. “Playing along with witty banter doesn’t mean I’m a homewrecker.”
She eyed me. “No, it just gives women hope that you’ll ask them out.” She pulled a white bowl with ivy leaves encircling the edges down from the cupboard behind her.
Women really assumed because we briefly teased that I wanted to date them when I knew nothing about them? Did the fact that I didn’t allow anyone to get close enough to fall in love with me count? Not the real me, anyway. Lexi had confirmed once and for all that no one could love all of me. Sure, they might enjoy my looks or family name, but they couldn’t handle the hard parts too.
I frowned. “I don’t think we’ve been friends long enough for you to determine what other women think after speaking with me.”
She stopped scooping pudding. “You’re right. I don’t.”
“I’m sorry for misjudging you,” I said in a high-pitched voice, trying to mimic Holly’s.
She pointed her spoon at me. “I do NOT sound like that, and I’ll say I’m sorry when you’ve proven me wrong.”
Harsh. “What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”
She filled a glass with water, then pulled out a wooden bed tray. She placed the bowl, a spoon, napkin, and the water glass on the tray and picked it up. “Guess my past experiences have tainted me. I’m going to drop this off. Want to queue up the next movie?”
What had happened to Holly that made her so jaded? “This conversation isn’t over, but for the sake of time, yes, I’ll get Ralph Breaks the Internet ready.”
Holly disappeared down the hall while I pulled up the next film. I settled back into the spot where I’d sat earlier on the tan couch. When I’d pulled up to Holly’s driveway, I had been shocked she lived in such a nice neighborhood all by herself. Now that I knew she lived with her mom, and based on the photos hanging up around the room, this was where Holly grew up. The oak cabinets and forest green knobs in the kitchen showed the home’s age, and yet a cozy feeling settled over me as I waited for Holly.
I was just about to stand to look at the pictures hanging on the wall, looking for photos of Holly as a child, when she came back into the room. She sat in the same spot as last time.
“What are you doing?” I asked, perplexed.
She looked at me with raised brows. “Sitting down to watch a movie?”
“In the most uncomfortable spot ever.” I waved her over. “Slide over. I won’t bite.”
Her nose wrinkled. “The jury is still out on that.”
I picked up the yellow throw pillow I’d tucked under my arm and chucked it at her. She dodged it, the edge of it barely grazing her left arm.
“Hey!” she protested. Her black hair was tousled from her movement. She swiped it away from her eyes.
I stabbed the couch with my finger. “Move. Over.”
Her lips twitched as she fought a smile. “Who’s being bossy now?”
“You can keep an entire cushion of space between us, all right? I can’t have my best chef out of commission because her neck is jacked up.”
Her eyes lit up. “Best chef?”
I shot her a dry look. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know how good you are.”
She picked at her short fingernails. “I’ve never been nominated for a James Beard Award or won a Michelin star. I think you overestimate me.”
“We can fix that.”
Her lips pursed. “Michelin stars don’t work that way.”
I shrugged. “James Beard Awards do. We’ll nominate you.”
Reluctantly, she moved to the corner of the sectional, leaving plenty of space between us. “Don’t get your hopes up.”
“Only if you’ll believe in yourself more,” I challenged back. Holly had talent. Grit. Determination. Creativity. Why didn’t she think she could win?
“Fine. Whatever. Let’s just start this.”
For the sake of time, I dropped the conversation and pushed play. Once again, my thoughts strayed from the movie and settled on the woman next to me. How could I help her see what I saw? A strong, confident, capable chef? If she knew how amazing she was, her staff would see it too, and it might just make the difference needed to ease the tension in her kitchen.