I don’t want to answer.

Ever since Ivy realized what Jamison was thinking, she’d been avoiding him. They came from completely different worlds, and after everything she’d been through, she had no interest in dating anyone. There was no reason to get entangled. But Jamison wasn’t the type to give up just because she ignored his calls.

A knock sounded on her bedroom door. Katrina poked her head in. “Ivy, Dr. Ludwig just called the landline. He says you’re not picking up your cell, and he’s worried something might be wrong.”

Ivy didn’t even look up. “Ignore him.”

“He said if you don’t answer, he’ll come over to check on you in person.”

Ivy’s frustration flared. Wasn’t this a bit much? Just because he knew where she lived, he thought he could threaten her like this?

Katrina grinned mischievously. “You should probably just pick up. He said there’s something important he needs to ask you.”

With that, Katrina slipped out, shutting the door behind her.

A moment later, Ivy’s phone started ringing again. She glanced at the screen and, with a sigh, finally picked up. “Jamison, what do you want?”

Hearing the irritation in her voice, Jamison didn’t get mad. Instead, he let out a quiet laugh, his usually cool tone unexpectedly gentle tonight. “What are you up to?”

“Sleeping.”

Right. Sure she was. He’d seen her chatting away on WhatsApp just a minute ago.

“It’s only nine. Isn’t it a bit early to call it a night?”

Ivy had no patience for small talk. “If you’ve got something to say, spit it out.”

“Nothing urgent. There’s an art exhibition this weekend, organized by the National Artists’ Association. It’s kind of a big deal this year—they’re hosting it at The Velvet Gallery. Do you want to go together?”

Ivy froze for a second, surprised he even knew about the show. So he was paying attention. That meant he’d see her work on display.

She didn’t bother beating around the bush. “Is this your way of asking me out?”

Jamison raised an eyebrow, used to her directness. “Would you say yes if I was?”

“No.” She didn’t hesitate.

“Can I ask why?”

“Because I don’t like you. I don’t want anything ambiguous between us. Is that reason enough?” Ivy didn’t sugarcoat it; she never did.

Instead of getting offended, Jamison just chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

“Ivy, I think we’re a good match.”

“Thanks, but I don’t.”

He put on a mock-wounded air. “Is it because of everything you’ve been through? Do you think you’re not good enough for me?”

She snorted. “Please. If anything, you’re not good enough for me.” Ivy had her scars, but she’d never let them make her feel less than anyone else.

Jamison laughed, a little helplessly. “And what makes you think I’m not good enough?”

“I don’t like you. That’s reason enough.”

Her computer pinged—another message on WhatsApp. She set her phone to speaker and started typing a reply to Dale in the group chat.

Unfazed, Jamison pressed on. “All right, fair enough. But at least hear me out.”

Ivy kept typing, her attention split between the call and her friends, making it obvious she was barely listening. Jamison could tell and, for a moment, it stung. Mr. Jamison, the man so many socialites tried to get close to, was now being casually dismissed by the one woman he actually wanted. Maybe this was karma.

Still, he didn’t give up.

“First, you’ve cut ties with the Windsor family. Striking out on your own as a woman isn’t easy. If you were with me, you’d have someone in your corner.”

“Second, you’re still recovering your health. I’m a doctor—I could help take care of you.”

“Third, your…well, your, uh, problem—your cramps. Actually, never mind. We don’t need to get into that right now.”