The Truest Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 4)

“Because I’m no longer under her roof and her nose is twitching.” Ivy’s lips quirked. “She’s worried about me. All the time.”

“Well, mothers are supposed to worry about their daughters. You should be grateful for that.” I winced because I sounded almost accusatory.

“I am grateful. But I’m also a grown woman who doesn’t need her mother sending over spies.”

“I’m not a spy.”

“Then why are you blushing?”

“I do that. Especially around people I don’t know very well.”

“Right. Actually, I already knew that.” She studied me carefully. “I don’t get it, though. I mean, you’ve seen you, right? You have Hollywood written all over you.”

I huffed in embarrassment. “Oh, yes, I’m quintessential Hollywood.”

She laughed at my sarcasm. “Not in personality. And I would not recommend that world to anyone, let alone someone as shy as you, but you’re beautiful and the camera would love you.”

“Is that all it takes?”

Ivy frowned. “No. Not for most of the biggest, well-respected actors. You have to be able to act. But you also have to have that certain something. Charisma. You can’t cheat charisma. Some of the most average-looking actors have charisma and it transcends good looks. You know … they’re just naturally sexy. And nothing is hotter than a guy who can take what you’ve written and make it so real, your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest watching him.” She gazed at the lake, smiling softly to herself.

“Did you date actors while you were out there?” I asked tentatively, not sure it was a subject she’d want to touch.

Ivy threw me a wicked smile. “Hell yeah.”

I laughed and her grin widened.

After a moment of surprisingly comfortable silence, she asked, “So really, Emery, why are you here?”

“To invite you to lunch today.” I sat up a little straighter. “The girls come to my store once a week for lunch. Jess, Dahlia, and Bailey. I thought you might like to join us.”

Ivy contemplated me. “You know, my mom used to talk about you all the time.” She looked a little sheepish. “I was jealous of you.”

Shocked, I could only stare. “Why?”

“Silly, right? I was in LA. I had the kind of career very few people get to have in film. Hotshot fiancé. Fame. Respect. Blah blah blah. But I missed my family. I missed this place.” She gestured to the water. “I missed my mom’s sharp wit. And I missed Bailey and how she could turn the most banal event into a story that had you rolling on the floor.”

We shared an affectionate smile for our friend.

“And Mom talked a lot about you. The sweet, shy bookstore owner. I could tell she felt a motherly protectiveness for you, and I’ll admit, I didn’t like it. Childish, huh?”

Thinking of how I hadn’t wanted to share my friends with Ivy, I shook my head. “I understand.”

“I will say one thing for Mom … she’s always right about people. She’s got that gut instinct, you know. And if Mom thinks you’re good people, then you’re good people.” Ivy stood. “I’d love to come to lunch with you.”

I beamed, glad my decision to put myself out there with Ivy had paid off.

My friends sailed into the bookstore together, chattering madly with a cloud of intensity hovering over their heads. They stopped abruptly at the sight of Ivy standing on the stairs that led to the seating area.

“Ivy.” Bailey walked to her first. “You’re here.”

“Emery invited me. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t.” She pushed Ivy toward the chairs and turned back to mouth “thank you” to me.

I smiled and shrugged as I grabbed a plate of sandwiches off the counter.

Jess approached and put her arm around me. “That was sweet of you,” she whispered.