I was almost positive that Mr. Daniels would believe my story, about Mrs. Connors. They all feared her and they all dreaded her. Abigail made it very clear that people scattered when Mrs. Connors would walk in the door, so if I could get him to let me have the footage to take to the dean at St. Joseph’s, then there would no mistaking her blackmail scheme.
It would be right on tape, so even if she were to tell the dean something about Mia, he would know she was lying.
I hoped.
I only made it three feet to the door when I ran right into someone. I wasn’t paying attention; I was too wrapped up in praying to God that my plan would work.
“Oh, shit. Sorry!” I mumbled, moving around the innocent bystander.
“Ivy?”
I paused, feet stilled in front of the bank doors.
“Wow, they just told me you weren’t here today and here you are… I think it’s fate.”
Eric’s black suit looked stiff and prim, just as he’d always looked before, except now, I wasn’t at all fazed by it.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, annoyed. I had shit to do.
My to-do list went like this:
Plead with my new-ish boss to give me footage (with audio).
Drive to St. Joseph’s.
Meet with the dean.
Give him the footage and explain the issue.
Confirm that he wouldn’t take Mia’s scholarship away and doom her for any other college in the state.
Dramatically exit the building and drive straight to Dawson’s and spill my heart out.
Have amazing make-up sex.
PUNCH MRS. CONNORS in the face.
Nowhere on that list was the name Eric.
Nowhere.
Eric stepped back, face forming into a frown. “Are you sick? Let’s head back to your place. We can talk there.” He walked over to me and gently grabbed my arm to usher me back to my car.
I snatched my hand out of his grasp. “Eric, I’m sorry, but I can’t talk with you right now.”
Why the hell is he even here?
“Ivy, please. I drove all this way to talk to you because you can’t seem to answer your phone.”
My heart started to beat faster in my chest, feeling as if time was slipping through my fingers. I was on a deadline to get my life back together and to fix this ordeal with Dawson, but Eric was like one of those stupid Whack-A-Mole things. He just kept fucking popping up.
I’d turn my body one way and he’d move there, too. I’d go the other way and there was his face, inches from mine.
“Eric, move. I have something to do!” My voice was frantic and it had him pulling back for a second.
“Ivy, please. I just drove four hours…”
No one asked you to come, bucko. I was about to kick him to get him to move, but then my phone started to shriek in my pocket. I let out a loud breath, feeling more anxious.