she wanted was for the perfect Mrs. Maxwell to run a background check on her; then again, she could always use her mother’s maiden name on the application and have Alexa’s boyfriend make her a fake ID.
She clicked the link to apply, filled it out diligently, and sent it off. With all Lola had going on, she figured the woman wouldn’t even know who she was or give her first name a second thought, if she was aware of it.
It seemed she’d already forgotten about the incident, with her handsome husband, fancy home, and amazing life. For all Ivy knew, she didn’t even exist to the rich bitch.
But who’d given her therapist the name? Why would Lola jeopardize all she had just to feed her name to Ivy now? Did she know Ivy? Know what she looked like? How did she even find Marriott?
Lola would know who Ivy was . . . right? She would be waiting for Ivy to come to her someday, confront her about the past. All of it could backfire or even be a trap. Ivy had to be careful, plan her approach wisely.
Ivy sighed as she looked at the confirmation email that let her know her application had been received, then she took a look around her cramped, one-bedroom apartment. The leaky faucet was dripping. The brown stain on her floor was getting darker instead of lighter, no matter how much she scrubbed at it. The AC never worked properly and caused her to break out in a sweat every hot night.
Fury blinded Ivy.
It wasn’t fair that Lola got to live in luxury and style while Ivy struggled day in, day out just to pay her bills. Ivy worked retail and faked smiles all day. She never quite had enough money to buy a new outfit for herself, or new shoes, because all her money went to her rent or recurring bills. Her life would have been so different if it weren’t for Lola Maxwell.
After shutting the lid of the laptop, Ivy poured herself a glass of the red wine she got from a coworker, sat on her dingy brown couch with her iPhone, and scrolled through Lola’s Instagram account, absorbing everything she could about the woman who’d ruined everything good in her life.
CHAPTER TWO
Ivy couldn’t believe it.
Her application for the Ladies with Passion charity had been rejected, the email typed in big, bold, red letters.
THANK YOU FOR APPLYING TO BE A LADIES WITH PASSION VOLUNTEER. AT THIS TIME, WE ARE CONSIDERING OTHER OPTIONS, BUT PLEASE FEEL FREE TO APPLY AGAIN NEXT YEAR.
WITH LOVE AND GRACE,
LOLA AND TEAM
What a bitch. And here she’d worked so hard on the application to make it sound believable. Lola opened volunteer applications every year, though, so it was fine. She could wait. She needed time to plan anyway, and perhaps Lola would forget about Ivy completely after another year.
As badly as she wanted to see this woman face-to-face as soon as possible, it had to be at the right time and the right moment.
Ladies with Passion was an organization for pregnant teen girls and women who needed financial support for prenatal and postnatal care. It was thoughtful, but a load of shit. She should have put all that energy into owning up to what she’d done instead.
It was obvious to Ivy that the charity was created so Lola could avoid the truth . . . which still left the question: Who gave Marriott Lola’s name? Was Lola waiting for Ivy to show up and planning on paying her off to keep her quiet while clearing her conscience? Because, hell, she would have loved that. Perhaps she should have emailed her and gotten it over with, or even met her for lunch somewhere to discuss money . . . but that was too easy for her. Money alone wasn’t going to cut it. Ivy needed more.
Opening her laptop with a weak cup of coffee beside it, Ivy typed in the name of Lola’s charity organization in the Search bar. She then went to the website and absorbed as much knowledge as she could about it. Just because her application wasn’t approved didn’t mean she couldn’t show up for the events.
She clicked through the photos of all the pregnant women who’d been helped or given large checks, and then clicked through the volunteer images, all of them in their sky-blue shirts with “Ladies with Passion” in swirly pink font. Lola was in several photos, smiling like an angel . . .