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Ivy shifted in her seat, turning toward them, doing her best to hide her discomfort.
“Hi, Vivian. Hello, Martha,” Ivy said cautiously. “How are you doing?”
Vivian stepped forward, smiling politely. “Good. It’s been awhile, Ivy. How’ve you-”
Martha cut Vivian off, shoving her aside gently. “You still didn’t answer me, what are you doing here?”
Martha hadn’t given Ivy any problem throughout her marriage to Mason. Her only problem was that she didn’t care about anybody else but her son. Ivy had always kept her distance, and there had never been any direct issue between them. This was why Martha’s accusatory tone surprised Ivy.
“I’m here to see Mr. Laurent,” Ivy replied gingerly.
Martha stepped closer, her gaze narrowing as she looked Ivy over from head to toe. “And why would Mr. Laurent want to-”
“I’m sure Ivy has her reasons,” Vivian smoothly interrupted Martha. “Let’s leave her to it.”
Ivy gave Vivian a grateful nod as she led Martha away.
Monica, who had been quietly observing the exchange, finally spoke. “Who were those two?”
Ivy sighed, she could feel a dull headache forming. “The older woman in blue is Martha, my ex–mother–in–law. The younger one is Vivian. Her mom and Martha are friends.”
“Oh,” Monica said, sounding unimpressed. “What’s with the attitude?”
“I wish I knew.” Ivy said, leaning into her seat.
She and Vivian had never really been close, but they weren’t hostile either. Ivy had spent time with her at events hosted by Martha or ones Mason forced her to attend. Vivian was always polite and respectful, unlike her mother, who gossips all day with Martha.
“Well, I don’t like her,” Monica said firmly.
Ivy chuckled, but her amusement faded quickly at the thought of having to deal with Mason again if his mother told him she spotted her.
She had barely relaxed when Francis Laurent’s office door opened, and Cheryl stepped out.
Dressed in a bright yellow gown that highlighted her already protruding belly, Cheryl’s eyes darkened when she saw Ivy. “What the hell are you doing here?” she snapped, marching toward her.
Ivy stood, her eyes challenging. “I should ask you the same. Last I checked, this office wasn’t reserved for only you.”
Cheryl’s eyes widened but she quickly composed herself. “It doesn’t surprise me that you’re here. You probably came to spread your legs for Mr. Laurent, just like you trapped Silas Stone,” she sneered.
Ivy laughed at the accusation. “I must have learned from the best, Cheryl. After all, isn’t that how you trapped Mason?”
Ivy’s tone was harsh but she didn’t care. Cheryl had it coming.
She looked Cheryl all over in disgust. She couldn’t believe she’d almost sacrificed her life for this betrayer.
Cheryl folded her arms smugly. “Well, you did a terrible job taming him. That’s why he’s getting married again in barely a year.”
The words hit Ivy harder than she’d expected, and Cheryl noticed. She stepped closer, her eyes widened with malice. “Oh, don’t act like you can’t guess why I’m here. I’m shopping for my wedding dress, and my delightful mother–in–law is more than willing to help me.”
Ivy blinked at Cheryl’s words. Cheryl knew how Mason had begged Martha to accompany Ivy for her wedding fitting. Of course, Martha had refused. Now here she was, happily aiding Cheryl for her son’s second marriage. The thought burned.
The door behind Cheryl opened and thankfully, Francis Laurent peeked, his voice calm and professional. “Ms. Stone?”
Ivy seized the opportunity to compose herself as Monica held her bag. She walked up to Cheryl, leaning in. “Let’s just hope your marriage lasts as long as rnine did. Otherwise, you’ll be back to square one.”
1/3
11:53 AM
Chapter 32
Without another look, she walked away, heading towards Francis‘ office.
Inside the bright room, Ivy exhaled deeply before sitting down.
“Are you alright?” Monica whispered, concern evident in her voice.
“Yes.” Ivy nodded.
Francis extended his hand warmly. “Ms. Stone, lovely to meet you. Congratulations on your upcoming wedding.”
“Thank you,” Ivy said, crossing her legs under the mahogany table.
“Your husband already briefed me,” Francis continued. “I have ten designs for you to choose from.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Ivy said excitedly.
Francis pulled a large catalog from beneath the table and slid it toward her. “Take your time.”
Ivy’s eyes lit, overwhelmed by the designs before her. She beckoned Monica closer.
“This is stunning,” Monica said, pointing to the first dress.
It was a white gown with a line of sequins and crystals arranged on it. Its train was long and satin, and Ivy could tell it would be luxuriously soft.
“I like it too,” Ivy murmured, admiring the picture before turning the page.
The next dress was grey, shorter but still embedded with shiny stones.
Ivy kept checking all the outfits until she settled on the eighth one. She briefly checked the other two, just to be sure she had made the right choice.
“I think this is it,” Ivy told Monica, who giggled. “This is the one.”
Her gown, the wedding dress she was going to wear to marry Silas, was exquisite, adorned with diamonds that would definitely shimmer under the light.
“Is this it?” Francis asked.
Ivy nodded. “Yes, it is.”
“Excellent choice, Ms. Stone!” Francis cheered, rising from his chair. “I’ll take you to the fitting room for your measurements. Your dress will be delivered in no time.”
Ivy stood up, beaming from ear to ear. “Thank you so much, Mr. Laurent. I really appreciate this.”
“You’re welcome,” he smiled, leading them toward the door.
Ivy and Monica followed him, giggling with excitement. They followed him downstairs and were about to turn the corner when Cheryl appeared from nowhere.
“Mr. Laurent,” she called, her lips pursed.
Francis rolled his eyes and turned to her. “I’ve already told you, miss, there’s no available slot until after six months.”
“But I can’t wait. My wedding is in a month!” Cheryl protested.
“Then go somewhere else,” he said, and Monica laughed.
Cheryl turned to her, then noticed Ivy. “You… you… what are you doing here?” she asked, her face flushing pink with embarrassment.
“None of your business,” Ivy replied.
“Mr. Laurent, she can’t be here,” Cheryl fired, her tone flaring.
Francis turned to Cheryl, his voice hard. “I won’t let you insult my esteemed client.”
Cheryl’s face went pale. “You would take her, but not me?”
2/3
11:53 AM
Chapter 32
That’s none of your busines! Francis snapped. He turned to Ivy. “Let’s go. Ms. Stone.”
Before Ivy could follow, Martha and Vivian appeared behind Cheryl
“What’s going on here? Martha asked in a loud voice, gathering attention from nearby shoppers.
Francis’s face flushed with embarrassment “Please, you need to leave.”
“He won’t sell to me, but he’s selling to Ivy, Cheryl said bitterly, her tone filled with resentment
“Why, Mr. Laurent?” Martha sneered. “Cheryl is more important than this… this woman.” She pointed to Ivy.
“Mind your language!” Monica snapped, raising her hand.
“Or what?” Martha shot back.
“Let’s just calm down,” Vivian urged, stepping between them.
“Monica, you don’t need this,” Ivy said at the same time Vivian spoke.
Francis was already red from head to toe. “Security!”
“You terrible woman!” Cheryl shrieked.
Martha approached Monica, Cheryl lunged at Ivy. Vivian got in between thern.
And then all hell broke loose.
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