Wrapped Up in You (Heartbreaker Bay, #8)(13)

He hadn’t deserved it. Not when he’d gone over and beyond, helping her clean up. The image of him at two in the morning, on his knees wearing pink latex gloves, helping her scrub the truck floor like it was the most important task in the world brought a reluctant smile.

With a sigh, she got off the bus two stops early to hit the market, and grabbed some fresh supplies to replace what she’d lost, along with some extras that she had plans to use to apologize to Kel with. Then she walked to her truck, shivering in the morning chill. She’d always thought California was the land of the eternal warm sunshine, but whoever had coined that phrase had never been to San Francisco in December.

Inside her truck, she left the Closed Until Lunch sign in place and took a quick moment to access her bank app. She robbed her savings account to cover the unexpected costs of restocking for the week, then got to work.

Last night she and Kel had disinfected everything, but she was obsessive about the kitchen and needed to put her stamp on it all. So she filled her extra-deep sink with hot water, and added in some of the gentle cleanser she used to clean the expensive copper pots and pans that she’d spent more money on than her clothes with no regrets.

When she’d finished, she put everything back in its place and cleaned and dried the sink. Then she pulled all her ingredients down from their various shelves. She’d organized everything perfectly and could find anything in seconds. She knew what she had at all times, which was how she’d been able to tell so quickly what had been taken last night.

And in spite of what she’d let Kel think, it hadn’t been just food and her petty cash.

Beneath the petty cash box had been another box, filled with a few things that represented the only happy spots in an otherwise terrible childhood. A postcard of the Golden Gate Bridge framed by the California hills and the azure blue of the bay. She had no idea where she’d gotten it, but she’d had it for years and years, and was a big part of the reason that when she’d decided to settle somewhere, she’d landed here.

She also had a picture of her mom on a stage at a piano, singing with a melancholy look on her face that made Ivy ache, though she had no idea why. She’d rarely seen that soft side of her mom.

The third and last pic she had was of her and her aunt Cathy, her mother’s sister, at a state fair. Ivy had been five, her hair rioting in wild red waves around her face. Her smiling face, because she’d been in Cathy’s arms in front of a Ferris wheel. Cathy, the only true mother figure Ivy had ever had, had died from cancer the year after the photo had been taken. She didn’t remember a whole lot of that time, but she could still remember Cathy always telling her:

Be smart.

Be brave.

Be vulnerable.

Her heart pinched at the memories. She’d hopefully done the smart and brave parts, but she’d actively done her best to never be vulnerable. She figured Cathy would understand.

There were also a few trinkets: a teeny little notebook she’d used as a journal for a few years. A Beanie Babies bear dressed as a chef, given to her at her first cooking job by her boss, one of the few positive male role models she’d had up until that point. She’d been fifteen. Of course, he’d thought she was eighteen, but that was the story of her life. Pretending to be what she wasn’t in order to get what she needed.

The last thing in the box had been a gold and diamond necklace, the one she’d taken with her when she’d run away from home. It’d been given to her by her aunt Cathy who’d worn it every day of her life. About six months before her death, she’d carefully coiled it up and put it into Ivy’s palm. “For when you need me,” she’d said quietly.

It’d been years after her death before Ivy had understood what her aunt had meant. The necklace had turned out to hold not just sentimental value, but was worth several thousand dollars. Aunt Cathy had known that if Ivy ever needed money fast, she could sell it.

She’d been wearing it until recently, when the clasp had broken when she’d been at work. She’d been meaning to bring it home, but it’d slipped her mind. And now it was gone.

And she hadn’t told Kel. She didn’t know why.

Okay, she did know why. Because although it could’ve been just a random thief who’d stumbled upon it, she wasn’t feeling that explanation. Nothing was ever that simple, at least not in her life. In her mind, there was only one person on the planet who’d known she had that necklace.

Her brother.

She had no idea what that meant. Had Brandon found her? And if he had . . . what did he want?

She got out the utensils and cooking implements she needed and then quickly started measuring and mixing dry ingredients. She preheated a pan, added the wet ingredients into the dry, mixed everything, and then gently folded in fresh blueberries.

While the pancakes cooked, she put everything meticulously away and got out some eggs and a thick slice of ham. She preheated another pan and flipped the pancakes. Cracking the eggs in a perfect break—so satisfying—she put them in next to the ham that was almost hot all the way through. She slid the pancakes onto a plate. Toast went down. Then she slid the eggs and ham onto another plate. Turned the pancakes, buttered the bread, and quickly and efficiently cleaned up after herself before packing the prepped food up in a special to-go protective container, slinging the strap over her shoulder.

She opened the back door and found several people standing there waiting, most of them her regulars. “I’m so sorry, I’m closed until eleven,” she said, pointing to the sign.