Ch. 1 - Day One
Ivy was given a rude awakening four hours later when she was shoved awake. She groaned, trying to find the strength to open her eyes all the way. When she finally did, she turned to look at who had shoved her awake.
“Max?” she asked, unsure if she was dreaming.
“That’s right, princess.”
“What…what are you doing?” She looked around, seeking for a clock or something that would display the time. The sun was just barely starting to shine through the long window above the couch. “What time is it?” her voice cracked, raspy already.
He smiled. “Six am. Time to start job hunting.”
She blinked and then sat up straight.
“What?”
Instead of answering her right away, he turned and sat in one of the chairs at the kitchen table. He pulled on his shoes and tied them. For a minute she sat watching him, dumbfounded.
He was a runner.
She wondered when he’d picked up that particular habit. He hated running.
At least the Max she’d known for the last two years had.
“I’m going for a run,” he said, approaching her again. “When I get back you better be gone.”
She swallowed and nodded as he went towards the door.
“Oh, here.” He returned to her and placed a fifty dollar bill on the table in front of her. “Go get some new clothes. You’re not going to impress any potential employer if you keep wearing the same clothes day in and day out.”
Stunned, she could only slowly nod again, her eyes fixed on the money.
“And don’t buy some sparkly mini-dress either. This is LA, not New York. Get something decent.”
She wanted to say something along the lines of LA not exactly being known for its lack of scandal, glitz and glamour, but she held her tongue. She knew what he meant.
“Thank-you, Max,” she said instead.
He nodded and turned back towards the door. Once more he turned back to look at her.
“Oh, and you need to be out of the apartment until after dark. I’m having Jessica come over, and I want our time to go…uninterrupted,” he said deliberately.
“Jessica,” she deadpanned, trying to comprehend. Then the light went on. Her eyes widened before she could hide her reaction. “Jessica as in…?” she got out in strangled breath.
He smirked. “Jessica,” he confirmed, pulling the door open and stepping outside. Not long after she heard his quick footsteps down the stairs.
………………
She didn’t trust herself to go back to sleep for another or two. Who knew how long Max’s morning runs were? Part of her wondered if he’d only started this routine to torture her this morning. It didn’t make sense with his letting her stay or that blanket mysteriously appearing on her when she was forced awake that wasn’t there when she fell asleep.
Then again maybe he was trying to be extra cruel to her to make up for these small kindnesses.
It was best not to overanalyze, she decided. She had a roof over her head and he’d just given her money to get a new outfit for job hunting. She should count herself lucky.
And she did.
The sun started to stream in more behind her. She turned to look out the window and found the gorgeous sunrise nearly blinding her. She put her hand up to shield it and then realized how its gentle glare lit up the buildings scattered throughout the city. Every window reflected its light. A warmth swelled within her at the sight. New York was breathtaking, but this felt more real. This felt like home.
She shook herself from the spell the sun had put on her. For months she’d wanted nothing more than New York as her home and the Van der Woodsens and Rhodes as her family. She forgot how much she missed this. But maybe that was just because her faux life was now completely out of reach.
Cereal was the only food she found in the cupboard, and milk was all that was in the fridge. She wondered if Max would go out grocery shopping while he was out. It surprised her that the kitchen was so vacant of food. Max loved to cook. He was always buying ingredients and creating recipes. It was what made him such a great cook at the restaurant.
She frowned as some of his angry words reverberated through her consciousness.
…my life back. The move to Los Angeles. The job I gave up at Balloob. The two years I spent believing you and loving you when all you did was lie and cheat so you could have some fantasy life that isn’t yours.
Cereal sounded great right now. So did not staying in this apartment a second longer and finding some new clothes at the store down the street.
She went into the bathroom, searching for some form of deodorant and only came across some horrid smelling cologne. She’d drained him of the stuff when they had been together. He wore it on their first date and without knowing he had been the one wearing it, she’d wrinkled her nose and he never wore it again. It was only much later when a friend asked what cologne he used to use that the truth had come out.
She swallowed and opted for squeezing some of his toothpaste on her finger and brushing her teeth in a hurry.
Then out the door she went, determined to apply to at least ten places and look classy while doing it.
……………
Jessica Bruenner.
Tall. Brunette. Flirtacious. Slutty.
Ivy had detested her from the first moment she saw her. The woman came in on a regular basis to host parties at Balloob, the restaurant she and Max had worked at together. She always smiled at Max, always complimented the food when he was working, and never failed to try to coerce him into taking her out. Even after she’d learned that Ivy was his girlfriend. Something he reminded her of every time she tried to persuade him to give her a chance.
Now, just outside the shop, Ivy spotted her. Tight skinny jeans, high suede boots, snug short black fur coat and daring makeup. She could only see her from the side now, but she bet anything her cleavage was busting at the seams. She never hesitated to show off her skin if the weather permitted and any decent-looking male was in the vicinity.
She couldn’t believe Max had sunk so low.
Then again, he had dated her, the sociopathic identity thief who walked out on him and proceeded to lie to his face until he found out the truth.
Much to her chagrin, Jessica noticed her after she’d exited the store, decked out in her hire-me! attire. She approached her, smiling wide.
“Ivy! It’s been too long,” she gushed, enveloping her in a too tight hug.
Ivy cleared her throat and somewhat awkwardly pulled away.
“Good to see you too,” she forced, clearing her throat.
“I’m on my way to see Max.” She gestured over her shoulder down the street. “I didn’t know you were back in town. Where are you staying?”
Ivy wondered where this slut got off thinking they were best friends all of a sudden, but she wasn’t about to use the strange transition to give up her location. She doubted Max would be pleased by that. He probably didn’t want anyone to know his crazy ex was staying with him again, even if it was only temporary.
“With a friend,” she said, returning the warm smile that wasn’t real.
“Are you picking up your job at Balloob again? You were always such a great waitress,” she said encouragingly, smiling bigger.
Ivy wished she’d stop smiling so big.
“I’ll definitely pay them a visit.”
“Alright, well, see you later.” She blew her a kiss and swayed her hips as soon as her back was turned.
The woman definitely knew how to make an exit.
………………
“8:59 pm. Not bad, Dickens. Though two more minutes and I might have heated up supper for you.”
He didn’t even look at her. She slipped out of her shoes at the front door and peeled off her suit jacket.
“I wasn’t under the impression you were making dinner for me,” she said lightly, sitting delicately on the end of the couch farthest from him, even if he wasn’t sitting on it.
“I wasn’t.” He turned to look at her. “It’s leftover from my date with Jessica.”
“You didn’t take her out?” she asked.
His eyes narrowed. “I’m a cook.”
“There wasn’t any food in the fridge or cupboards this morning,” she pointed out.
“Observant of you to check.” He smirked despite himself. “But I am capable of going grocery shopping.”
He stood to his feet and walked into the kitchen, warming up the meal he said he wouldn’t.
“How did the job search go today?” he asked absentmindedly, staring into the microwave so he wouldn’t have to look at her.
“Good.” She shifted on the couch, unsure of how much to tell him. “I applied to about a dozen places at least. I think I may have a few offers in the next few days.”
The microwave beeped. He took the food out, grabbed silverware and walked back over to her, setting the plate on the table. She didn’t dare compliment the food. That was somehow too intimate.
“Any promising enough to get you out of here in the next six days?” he asked, sinking back into his recently vacated chair.
“You said I could stay a week,” she said determinedly.
“It’s been one day already,” he said simply. “So, six days left.”
She pursed her lips tightly.
He lowered his gaze to her food. “Eat,” he said, looking back up at her.
She fought an inner battle, but almost immediately gave it up. She was starving. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast. That was more than twelve hours ago, and it had only been a bowl of cereal.
He watched her, as if waiting for her reaction. He had always needed some sign of approval from her, even if he’d gotten an enthusiastic one from Jessica earlier. He couldn’t explain it, but there was something about the way her mouth worked, the way her eyes lit up and she smiled when she tasted something good. It was genuine, not fake like almost all of Jessica was.
Truth be told, he’d only hooked up with Jessica because he no longer had a good reason not to. She brought in a lot of money to Balloob and she was drop dead gorgeous. Without Ivy to use as his rejection card, and with Jessica being as persuasive as she was, he didn’t last long at all. Two weeks in fact after he’d finally returned from New York and re-stationed himself at the restaurant he’d practically dominated for the last two years.
But Ivy did not give him the response he was hoping for. She ate too fast for the first bite and had to blow on it in order to finish, but she didn’t look at him in the course of it. Afterwards she just continued to eat until she finished. Then she stood to her feet and crossed the room to wash the dish, dry it and promptly put it away.
She always did have a knack for cleaning up promptly, he mused. There had never been an issue there. He hadn’t had to worry about her laundry ending up on the floor either. If anything she had to scold him for not cleaning up.
“I’m going to take a shower now if that’s alright?” she let the question hang, hoping he’d say yes. After the long day she had, if she didn’t shower she knew she’d be no good for any potential interviews tomorrow.
“Sure,” he said, following her form as she exited the room and shut the bathroom door behind her. There was no noise that followed except the sound of the water coming out of the showerhead. That told him one thing. She knew her way around in there. Even after he’d changed so much. She still knew this apartment like the back of her hand. It made him very uncomfortable.
Fifteen minutes later she cursed and his eyes lifted as the door opened, a small tug on his lips inching up into a smirk.
“Problem?” he asked as the door slowly opened.
She cleared her throat and crossed the room, wrapped up in nothing but a fuzzy white towel.
“Forgot my clothes,” she said, not looking at him as she reached for the bag that her new clothes had initially come in that she’d tossed yesterdays clothes in.
She was halfway back across the room when he stood up and stopped her.
“Wait.”
She paused, as if caught and slowly turned around. He didn’t wait to meet her gaze. He just walked past her into his bedroom and opened his closet door. Then he pulled out a box and brought it out into the living room.
“What’s this?” she asked, confused, as he held it out to her.
He glanced down at the still closed box.
“This is the box of belongings I would have given you in New York if it had been as simple as you leaving me for some unknown reason that was perfectly natural and not a lie or a scam.”
She swallowed.
He shoved the box at her.
“You left some clothes here in your hurry. Among them are a few old t-shirts, sweatpants and some underwear. Something tells me you’ll be a lot more comfortable in that then you will in what you slept in last night.”
Her jaw dropped, stunned by the new information, as she had been by many things that happened that day.
“T-Thank-you, Max. I-”
He held up a hand. “Stop.”
Her mouth snapped shut.
“I need you to stop thanking me. I’m only being a decent person, giving you what belongs to you, feeding you because you’re penniless and giving you a place to sleep because I don’t want to be one of those people who puts someone out on the street. I’m not doing it because I like you or because I care one way or the other. I’m doing it because I’m an honest, decent person and there are some things you just can’t live with.”
“You had no trouble blackmailing me in New York a few months ago,” she couldn’t help but say when he turned away. He turned back to look at her. “Was that something you – an honest, decent person – could live with?”
“You lied and cheated on me,” he said, his voice unnaturally low and bordering on violent. “I needed my revenge. I deserved it.”
She was quiet for a moment. “…wouldn’t leaving me out on the street be more of a revenge? If you don’t care about me, I would think that would be easy.”
She didn’t know why she was pushing him. He was the roof over her head, the food on her plate, the clothes on her back. Of all the people she could confront in this way, he should not be one of them.
But somehow she needed to know. She needed this conversation to be over.
“Goodnight, Ivy,” he said and left the room, closing his bedroom door behind him.
She sunk onto the couch, and after a moment of confused feelings and deep contemplation, she found the old shirts, sweat and underwear he’d been referring to. Making sure to be out of sight from any potential peeping toms that might be looking through Max’s window, she changed into the more comfortable clothes and nestled into her spot in the couch. She needed to make up for the hours missed from last night and this morning.
She realized after getting settled that the blanket was still there on the couch, and in addition, there was a pillow.
“Max?” she asked, unsure if she was dreaming.
“That’s right, princess.”
“What…what are you doing?” She looked around, seeking for a clock or something that would display the time. The sun was just barely starting to shine through the long window above the couch. “What time is it?” her voice cracked, raspy already.
He smiled. “Six am. Time to start job hunting.”
She blinked and then sat up straight.
“What?”
Instead of answering her right away, he turned and sat in one of the chairs at the kitchen table. He pulled on his shoes and tied them. For a minute she sat watching him, dumbfounded.
He was a runner.
She wondered when he’d picked up that particular habit. He hated running.
At least the Max she’d known for the last two years had.
“I’m going for a run,” he said, approaching her again. “When I get back you better be gone.”
She swallowed and nodded as he went towards the door.
“Oh, here.” He returned to her and placed a fifty dollar bill on the table in front of her. “Go get some new clothes. You’re not going to impress any potential employer if you keep wearing the same clothes day in and day out.”
Stunned, she could only slowly nod again, her eyes fixed on the money.
“And don’t buy some sparkly mini-dress either. This is LA, not New York. Get something decent.”
She wanted to say something along the lines of LA not exactly being known for its lack of scandal, glitz and glamour, but she held her tongue. She knew what he meant.
“Thank-you, Max,” she said instead.
He nodded and turned back towards the door. Once more he turned back to look at her.
“Oh, and you need to be out of the apartment until after dark. I’m having Jessica come over, and I want our time to go…uninterrupted,” he said deliberately.
“Jessica,” she deadpanned, trying to comprehend. Then the light went on. Her eyes widened before she could hide her reaction. “Jessica as in…?” she got out in strangled breath.
He smirked. “Jessica,” he confirmed, pulling the door open and stepping outside. Not long after she heard his quick footsteps down the stairs.
………………
She didn’t trust herself to go back to sleep for another or two. Who knew how long Max’s morning runs were? Part of her wondered if he’d only started this routine to torture her this morning. It didn’t make sense with his letting her stay or that blanket mysteriously appearing on her when she was forced awake that wasn’t there when she fell asleep.
Then again maybe he was trying to be extra cruel to her to make up for these small kindnesses.
It was best not to overanalyze, she decided. She had a roof over her head and he’d just given her money to get a new outfit for job hunting. She should count herself lucky.
And she did.
The sun started to stream in more behind her. She turned to look out the window and found the gorgeous sunrise nearly blinding her. She put her hand up to shield it and then realized how its gentle glare lit up the buildings scattered throughout the city. Every window reflected its light. A warmth swelled within her at the sight. New York was breathtaking, but this felt more real. This felt like home.
She shook herself from the spell the sun had put on her. For months she’d wanted nothing more than New York as her home and the Van der Woodsens and Rhodes as her family. She forgot how much she missed this. But maybe that was just because her faux life was now completely out of reach.
Cereal was the only food she found in the cupboard, and milk was all that was in the fridge. She wondered if Max would go out grocery shopping while he was out. It surprised her that the kitchen was so vacant of food. Max loved to cook. He was always buying ingredients and creating recipes. It was what made him such a great cook at the restaurant.
She frowned as some of his angry words reverberated through her consciousness.
…my life back. The move to Los Angeles. The job I gave up at Balloob. The two years I spent believing you and loving you when all you did was lie and cheat so you could have some fantasy life that isn’t yours.
Cereal sounded great right now. So did not staying in this apartment a second longer and finding some new clothes at the store down the street.
She went into the bathroom, searching for some form of deodorant and only came across some horrid smelling cologne. She’d drained him of the stuff when they had been together. He wore it on their first date and without knowing he had been the one wearing it, she’d wrinkled her nose and he never wore it again. It was only much later when a friend asked what cologne he used to use that the truth had come out.
She swallowed and opted for squeezing some of his toothpaste on her finger and brushing her teeth in a hurry.
Then out the door she went, determined to apply to at least ten places and look classy while doing it.
……………
Jessica Bruenner.
Tall. Brunette. Flirtacious. Slutty.
Ivy had detested her from the first moment she saw her. The woman came in on a regular basis to host parties at Balloob, the restaurant she and Max had worked at together. She always smiled at Max, always complimented the food when he was working, and never failed to try to coerce him into taking her out. Even after she’d learned that Ivy was his girlfriend. Something he reminded her of every time she tried to persuade him to give her a chance.
Now, just outside the shop, Ivy spotted her. Tight skinny jeans, high suede boots, snug short black fur coat and daring makeup. She could only see her from the side now, but she bet anything her cleavage was busting at the seams. She never hesitated to show off her skin if the weather permitted and any decent-looking male was in the vicinity.
She couldn’t believe Max had sunk so low.
Then again, he had dated her, the sociopathic identity thief who walked out on him and proceeded to lie to his face until he found out the truth.
Much to her chagrin, Jessica noticed her after she’d exited the store, decked out in her hire-me! attire. She approached her, smiling wide.
“Ivy! It’s been too long,” she gushed, enveloping her in a too tight hug.
Ivy cleared her throat and somewhat awkwardly pulled away.
“Good to see you too,” she forced, clearing her throat.
“I’m on my way to see Max.” She gestured over her shoulder down the street. “I didn’t know you were back in town. Where are you staying?”
Ivy wondered where this slut got off thinking they were best friends all of a sudden, but she wasn’t about to use the strange transition to give up her location. She doubted Max would be pleased by that. He probably didn’t want anyone to know his crazy ex was staying with him again, even if it was only temporary.
“With a friend,” she said, returning the warm smile that wasn’t real.
“Are you picking up your job at Balloob again? You were always such a great waitress,” she said encouragingly, smiling bigger.
Ivy wished she’d stop smiling so big.
“I’ll definitely pay them a visit.”
“Alright, well, see you later.” She blew her a kiss and swayed her hips as soon as her back was turned.
The woman definitely knew how to make an exit.
………………
“8:59 pm. Not bad, Dickens. Though two more minutes and I might have heated up supper for you.”
He didn’t even look at her. She slipped out of her shoes at the front door and peeled off her suit jacket.
“I wasn’t under the impression you were making dinner for me,” she said lightly, sitting delicately on the end of the couch farthest from him, even if he wasn’t sitting on it.
“I wasn’t.” He turned to look at her. “It’s leftover from my date with Jessica.”
“You didn’t take her out?” she asked.
His eyes narrowed. “I’m a cook.”
“There wasn’t any food in the fridge or cupboards this morning,” she pointed out.
“Observant of you to check.” He smirked despite himself. “But I am capable of going grocery shopping.”
He stood to his feet and walked into the kitchen, warming up the meal he said he wouldn’t.
“How did the job search go today?” he asked absentmindedly, staring into the microwave so he wouldn’t have to look at her.
“Good.” She shifted on the couch, unsure of how much to tell him. “I applied to about a dozen places at least. I think I may have a few offers in the next few days.”
The microwave beeped. He took the food out, grabbed silverware and walked back over to her, setting the plate on the table. She didn’t dare compliment the food. That was somehow too intimate.
“Any promising enough to get you out of here in the next six days?” he asked, sinking back into his recently vacated chair.
“You said I could stay a week,” she said determinedly.
“It’s been one day already,” he said simply. “So, six days left.”
She pursed her lips tightly.
He lowered his gaze to her food. “Eat,” he said, looking back up at her.
She fought an inner battle, but almost immediately gave it up. She was starving. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast. That was more than twelve hours ago, and it had only been a bowl of cereal.
He watched her, as if waiting for her reaction. He had always needed some sign of approval from her, even if he’d gotten an enthusiastic one from Jessica earlier. He couldn’t explain it, but there was something about the way her mouth worked, the way her eyes lit up and she smiled when she tasted something good. It was genuine, not fake like almost all of Jessica was.
Truth be told, he’d only hooked up with Jessica because he no longer had a good reason not to. She brought in a lot of money to Balloob and she was drop dead gorgeous. Without Ivy to use as his rejection card, and with Jessica being as persuasive as she was, he didn’t last long at all. Two weeks in fact after he’d finally returned from New York and re-stationed himself at the restaurant he’d practically dominated for the last two years.
But Ivy did not give him the response he was hoping for. She ate too fast for the first bite and had to blow on it in order to finish, but she didn’t look at him in the course of it. Afterwards she just continued to eat until she finished. Then she stood to her feet and crossed the room to wash the dish, dry it and promptly put it away.
She always did have a knack for cleaning up promptly, he mused. There had never been an issue there. He hadn’t had to worry about her laundry ending up on the floor either. If anything she had to scold him for not cleaning up.
“I’m going to take a shower now if that’s alright?” she let the question hang, hoping he’d say yes. After the long day she had, if she didn’t shower she knew she’d be no good for any potential interviews tomorrow.
“Sure,” he said, following her form as she exited the room and shut the bathroom door behind her. There was no noise that followed except the sound of the water coming out of the showerhead. That told him one thing. She knew her way around in there. Even after he’d changed so much. She still knew this apartment like the back of her hand. It made him very uncomfortable.
Fifteen minutes later she cursed and his eyes lifted as the door opened, a small tug on his lips inching up into a smirk.
“Problem?” he asked as the door slowly opened.
She cleared her throat and crossed the room, wrapped up in nothing but a fuzzy white towel.
“Forgot my clothes,” she said, not looking at him as she reached for the bag that her new clothes had initially come in that she’d tossed yesterdays clothes in.
She was halfway back across the room when he stood up and stopped her.
“Wait.”
She paused, as if caught and slowly turned around. He didn’t wait to meet her gaze. He just walked past her into his bedroom and opened his closet door. Then he pulled out a box and brought it out into the living room.
“What’s this?” she asked, confused, as he held it out to her.
He glanced down at the still closed box.
“This is the box of belongings I would have given you in New York if it had been as simple as you leaving me for some unknown reason that was perfectly natural and not a lie or a scam.”
She swallowed.
He shoved the box at her.
“You left some clothes here in your hurry. Among them are a few old t-shirts, sweatpants and some underwear. Something tells me you’ll be a lot more comfortable in that then you will in what you slept in last night.”
Her jaw dropped, stunned by the new information, as she had been by many things that happened that day.
“T-Thank-you, Max. I-”
He held up a hand. “Stop.”
Her mouth snapped shut.
“I need you to stop thanking me. I’m only being a decent person, giving you what belongs to you, feeding you because you’re penniless and giving you a place to sleep because I don’t want to be one of those people who puts someone out on the street. I’m not doing it because I like you or because I care one way or the other. I’m doing it because I’m an honest, decent person and there are some things you just can’t live with.”
“You had no trouble blackmailing me in New York a few months ago,” she couldn’t help but say when he turned away. He turned back to look at her. “Was that something you – an honest, decent person – could live with?”
“You lied and cheated on me,” he said, his voice unnaturally low and bordering on violent. “I needed my revenge. I deserved it.”
She was quiet for a moment. “…wouldn’t leaving me out on the street be more of a revenge? If you don’t care about me, I would think that would be easy.”
She didn’t know why she was pushing him. He was the roof over her head, the food on her plate, the clothes on her back. Of all the people she could confront in this way, he should not be one of them.
But somehow she needed to know. She needed this conversation to be over.
“Goodnight, Ivy,” he said and left the room, closing his bedroom door behind him.
She sunk onto the couch, and after a moment of confused feelings and deep contemplation, she found the old shirts, sweat and underwear he’d been referring to. Making sure to be out of sight from any potential peeping toms that might be looking through Max’s window, she changed into the more comfortable clothes and nestled into her spot in the couch. She needed to make up for the hours missed from last night and this morning.
She realized after getting settled that the blanket was still there on the couch, and in addition, there was a pillow.