He stares at me. “The last thing I would ever want is to see how Azalea reacts to the presence of glitter in her vicinity.”
I sniff. “The hierarchy of your affections has shifted most egregiously, and I am in dithers.”
“It sure has. Tell me again, when was the last time we hung outbeforeyou required emotional support regarding your wife’s rejection?”
“She hasn’t rejected me,” I disagree. “What a ridiculous notion. She’s merely… postponed the inevitable.”
“Right,” he drones. “And also run away from home.”
“And anyway,” I continue. “We hang out all the time. We hung out just two weeks ago.”
“At the business meeting, in which we discussed business things?” Offensively, Malcolm’s brows crawl up his forehead. “I’ve attained peace where it concerns my position in your world.”
“Oh, great, the thing you hate.” A ping of discomfort taps at my chest. “I… you know I love you, right, Malice?”
He bumps my shoulder with his, and I can’t tell if hemeantto knock me off balance, or if he simply wasn’t aware of the breadth of his shoulders and what they might do to a marginally smaller man. “Yes, Ivy. I know that you love me. It’s not hard to tell when you love someone.”
I regain my balance and nod. Yes. Exactly. I’m very affectionate.
“Good,” I say. “Since that’s settled, then I’m sure my assistant can find some time in my busy schedule for us to hang out. Just as soon as my honeymoon is over.”
“When is your honeymoon scheduled to end again?”
I blink. “How should I know? You’re the one who scheduled it.”
“I gave you a month. But… how to say this kindly…” He turns something over in his hand, then puts it back. “Outlook not so good.”
I scowl. “I can’t believe I thought you intelligent.”
“Yes, why would you ever do something silly like that?”
“However,” I huff, lifting my nose in the air, “if you so desired to give me a little bit more time off, I would not complain. A man would never complain about an extended honeymoon for any reason, as I’m sure you’re aware.”
“Of course. Azalea and I are waiting until September for our honeymoon, so there’s plenty of time.”
“September?”
“Grandparents’ Day. The second most romantic holiday of the year.”
For a moment, I’m speechless. When words return, I can only say in mild horror, “They just let people believe anything these days, don’t they?”
“I haven’t a clue what you mean. So, anyway, glitter?”
I shrug. “Glitter,” I concur. “Would you get me some blue, gold, and white?”
He agrees and walks off wielding his dove with her knife, jauntily stepping around an end cap full of stuffed cube-shaped animals.
I allow myself a moment to feel the weight of the love that he is showing me—to have a few seconds of joy amidst the calamity that is my psyche lately—then I return to my browsing and buying.
In the end, it probably would have been cheaper to buy the business, but I can’t say that I care all that much. In the end, I made out with an afternoon with my brother and a cart full of hope. All in all, worth it.
All in all, I could not possibly ask for better.
Chapter Seventeen
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Iverson