Facing the Music (Rosewood 1)

The host tapped his cards on the desk and sat back in his chair. “Well, you know what I’ve always wanted to know? I’ve always wanted to know what Blake thought of all that. So you know what? Let’s bring him out here and find out!”

Ice water shot through Ivy’s veins. Every head in the audience, along with her own, turned toward the velvet curtains. A moment later, Blake came through looking more devastatingly handsome than ever before. He was wearing a navy suit with a light blue shirt beneath it that precisely matched his eyes. Eyes that were focused on nothing but her.

There was a smile on his face, but she could tell he was tense. She understood. Her own body was frozen, every muscle perfectly still to keep her from reacting to his arrival. The cameras were on her; they were waiting for her to react. Should she pretend she was happy and give him a hug and kiss? Ignore him? Give him a polite handshake when he sat down beside her?

She opted to stand and give him a hug like any other old friend she hadn’t seen in a while. Blake reached across the desk to shake the host’s hand, and then took a seat beside Ivy.

“So, the infamous Blake Chamberlain!” Jimmy began. “You look like quite a large man. You played college ball for Auburn and played in the NFL for the Texans before your knee injury. Not an average man in the slightest sense. I take it ‘Size Matters’ was just a metaphor?”

Blake laughed. “I’m not going to talk about the size of my anything on national television.”

Ivy smiled but tried to stay out of the discussion for now. She wasn’t quite sure how to react to all this. Had the talk show flown Blake out here? How would Kevin not tell her about this? This wasn’t one of those daytime shows where they spring your long-lost daddy on you.

“But we all saw the video, right? The one from a week or so ago where Ivy announced all sorts of positive things about your, uh, ‘package.’ Did that make up for some of the embarrassment brought on when the song came out? I mean, that had to be rough on your ego, even if you were packing a deadly weapon in your BVDs.”

Ivy held her breath and waited for Blake’s answer. If he just came on the talk show to publicly call her out for her man-bashing ways and embarrass her, this would be his opportunity. “I actually prefer Fruit of the Loom,” Blake joked. “But seriously, there wasn’t any reason for Ivy to make up for anything. She wrote that song because I’d hurt her and took advantage of her love and trust. I deserved everything and anything she said about me back then.”

The host seemed surprised. This must not be the scandalous conversation he’d been hoping for when he’d brought Blake on the show. Ivy had a hard time disguising her surprise as well. She wished she knew what the hell was going on.

“Now, Blake, you just heard Ivy’s new song. What do you think about it?”

“I think it’s the best thing she’s ever written,” he said without the slightest hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“Do you think she wrote this one about you, too?” the host pressed. “That naughty little minx will never admit what song is about what guy.”

At that, Blake smiled. “I don’t know if it’s about me or not. I think every red-blooded man in America would like to think that song is about him. Who wouldn’t want the love of a beautiful, talented woman like Ivy Hudson?”

A few men in the crowd cheered and the audience applauded along with them.

“I have to say, though, I really identify with this song. Ivy and I have had our ups and downs like any couple. I’ve been a jerk on more than one occasion. I would be thrilled to know that despite that, she still loved me, because I’ve never stopped loving her, either. I am very much in love with Ivy Hudson and have been since I was sixteen years old.”

The audience reacted with an audible “aww,” followed by more applause. It was a little surreal to have some kind of Greek chorus following the drama of her love life.

“Wow!” Jimmy said. “I think that’s the first time I’ve had someone declare their love for a guest on my show. Ivy, what have you got to say to that?”

That was a really good question. She glanced at Blake beside her. He was smiling nervously, his eyes pleading with her for an answer that didn’t make him look like an ass in front of all these people.

“I’d say he picked a fine time and place to tell me that!” Ivy laughed nervously. What was she supposed to say? That she loved him? She did, but they had some serious issues to talk over first.

“There’s something else I’d like to tell her, if you don’t mind, Jimmy.”

“Be my guest,” the host said, beaming with excitement.

Blake stood up, then lowered down onto his good knee in front of her. Ivy’s heart started beating with the rapid fire of an automatic rifle. Her mouth dropped open as Blake reached into his lapel pocket and took her hand in his.

“Ivy,” he began, “you are the most important woman to ever be a part of my life. I didn’t realize how miserable I was all these years without you until I had you back. We’ve only had a short time together again, but it’s been more than long enough for me to realize that I want to have you in my life from now on. I don’t care where we live or how we make it happen, but I need you. I love you. And I want you to know that I would never do something to deliberately hurt you, despite what you might think.”

Ivy looked into his blue eyes and saw the sincerity of his words reflected there. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, too. But was she a fool if she did? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice . . .

“Nothing happened with Lydia,” he mouthed silently. Neither the cameras nor the microphones could pick it up. Blake squeezed her hand. “I swear it.”

He opened the ring box then. It wasn’t the standard

jewelry-store type of box. It was an older, carved wooden jewelry case, like something from another era. Inside, nestled in velvet, was a large diamond cocktail ring. It was a peculiar style, obviously vintage. There was a large round diamond in the center surrounded by a ring of platinum in a Grecian-style square wave design. at was surrounded by another ring of smaller diamonds that continued down and around the platinum band itself.

It was a one-of-a-kind ring, and yet it was hauntingly familiar. Where had she seen it before?

“This was my grandmother’s engagement ring,” he said.