Chapter 190
Standing for so long was exhausting. Ivy decided to find a chair and sit down, determined to see which of the Windsor women would crack first in this little performance.
No one expected someone of Jamison’s stature to fetch a chair himself just for Ivy. The onlookers gawked in disbelief as he placed it behind her.
Rosetta’s smile froze when she saw her eldest daughter settle into the chair with effortless grace.
“Ivy, you—”
“Mrs. Windsor, I hope you’ll understand. After being missing for three years, I’ve developed all sorts of health issues. I’m not exactly at my strongest these days,” Ivy replied, her tone unhurried and calm.
A ripple of laughter spread through the crowd, most of whom were clearly enjoying the spectacle.
Emma looked completely stunned.
The floor was solid and unyielding, hot and digging into her knees. Two minutes of kneeling already felt unbearable, yet Ivy had the audacity to pull up a chair and face off with her while sitting pretty?
“Mom…” Tears welled up in Emma’s eyes as she looked pleadingly at Rosetta.
Rosetta hesitated, caught in a bind. The longer Emma knelt, the more awkward things became. Her youngest’s knees wouldn’t hold out much longer. But if she told Emma to stand up now, it would be a public admission of defeat—one everyone would relish.
“Emma, show your sincerity. I’m sure your sister will be moved,” Rosetta said pointedly, her words a thinly veiled form of emotional blackmail.
Ivy crossed one leg over the other and reclined in the chair, her posture elegant. “Well, I suppose it all depends on how long my dear sister’s sincerity can last.”
Emma lasted barely ten minutes before her legs went completely numb, pins and needles stabbing through her. Sweat poured down her face in the sweltering heat, soaking the floor under her knees and leaving a clear mark.
Rosetta, standing to the side, was looking pale herself from the strain.
“Ivy, you—” Rosetta began, but before she could finish, Emma’s body gave out and she collapsed to the floor.
“Emma!” Rosetta rushed to her daughter’s side, glaring up at Ivy, her anger boiling over. “Ivy, this is too much!”
Ivy stood, her expression icy. “You’re the ones who started this, trying to make things hard for me. And now you turn around and blame me? If you don’t mean it, just say so. There’s no need to twist things.”
Rosetta was so furious she could barely speak.
“Katrina, let’s go,” Ivy said coolly, striding away without another glance.
Ivy had just slid into the car and reached to close the door when a large hand caught it.
She looked up, eyes flashing. “What now?”
“It’s lunchtime. Eat with me,” Jamison said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“No thanks. I already have plans.”
“With who? That gallery owner?”
Ivy pressed her lips together in exasperation, fighting to keep her temper in check. “I’m really not in the mood for this. You should keep your distance.”
Jamison replied, “I can tell you’re in a bad mood. That’s why I’m volunteering as your punching bag.” He flashed her a quick smile. “My treat. That place we tried to go to last time—they’ve got a table open.”
Seeing that he wasn’t giving up, Ivy decided to play along for now.
“Fine. I’ll see you at the restaurant,” she said, thinking she’d just get him to let go of the door, lock it, and make her getaway.
But no sooner had she agreed than he opened the back door and slid right in. “Why wait? We can talk now.”
Up in the passenger seat, Katrina was trying—and failing—to hide her amusement. She turned back with a grin. “Dr. Ludwig, does this mean I should switch seats?”
“Katrina!” Ivy groaned. “Traitor!”
“Oh, come on, Ivy. Wouldn’t you love someone to take the heat for you for once?” Katrina hopped out, opened the rear door wide, and made a show of leaving the front seat free.
Jamison got out too, circled around the car, and slid into the passenger seat. Ivy, exasperated, glared at him. “Where’s your car?”