Tangled

54 Ava: Dinner With Ivy

Music drifts through the kitchen, courtesy of my phone, as I chop garlic, enjoying the sharp aroma. Cooking has always been a comfort to me, a way to lose myself in the simple tasks and let my mind wander. As I toss minced garlic into the pan heating over the stove, I can’t help but feel a sense of peace settle over me, if only momentarily.”

I’ve set up the phone Clayton gave me, and texted him and Ivy to let them know it was working. Neither responded, which is fine by me. I set up the burner phone, too, and texted Lisa with updates. She did respond, and her spam of emojis have lightened the load on my heart. I texted Mrs. Elkins, letting her know I’m safe and begging her not to talk to anyone about me. Mrs. Elkins assured me my job is safe whenever I

can come home, which is even more of a relief.

My little paradise is waiting for me, which makes it so much easier to be stuck here right now.

A knock at the door startles me from my reverie. I glance at the clock, wondering who could be here at

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54 Ava: Dinner With Ivy

this hour. Wiping my hands on a towel, I make my way to the door, peering through the peephole.

It’s Ivy.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever interaction awaits me. There’s something about Ivy that always puts me on edge, a subtle undercurrent of something that I can’t quite place. Still, I paste on a polite smile and open the door..

“Ivy, hi,” I greet her, trying to keep my tone casual.

“Ava,” she says, her smile bright but somehow not quite reaching her eyes. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Not at all,” I assure her, stepping aside to let her in. “I was just making dinner.”

As she enters, I notice the bottle of wine in her hand and the shopping bag slung over her arm. My brow furrows slightly, but I say nothing, waiting for her to explain.

few things for you,” Ivy says, holding out the wine and the bag. “A little something to help you settle

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54 Ava: Dinner With Ivy

“You didn’t have to do that,” I

least I could do.

is again, that undercurrent of something. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it makes me uneasy. Still, I force a smile and nod.

meaning it despite my reservations. “That’s really kind of you.”

reading too much into things. Maybe I’m just

on the couch. She’s still binge–watching her mind–numbing wolf shifter

on the counter. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable?” I gesture towards

mu amila and cinka aronofully onto the

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Dinner With Ivy

Selene sniffs her in greeting, and Ivy reaches out to pat her head in

course. I wouldn’t do that

the kitchen, trying to ignore the way her gaze seems to follow me as I

carry our dishes. to the table. “Here we are,” I say, setting a plate in front of Ivy before taking my own seat. “I hope you like pasta primavera.”

delicious,” Ivy assures me, already reaching for her fork. We eat in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds

begins, her tone light and conversational. “Tell me a little about

fork. “There’s not much to tell,” I deflect, keeping my tone

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Ava: Dinner

really

what seems like genuine sympathy. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I didn’t mean to

a reassuring smile. “It’s alright, you didn’t know.”

from her before. “Clayton and I lost our parents when we were young, too,” she confides, her gaze dropping to the table. “It’s not an easy

the table, her hand covering mine in a gentle squeeze. I blink, surprised by the unexpected gesture of comfort.

I feel

me a small, grateful smile, giving my hand one last squeeze/before withdrawing

is a strong alpha because he was forced to