Chapter 3 A Red Day
Chapter 3: A Red Day
Ivy
Later that day
“You have to attend,” Poppy said firmly, arms crossed as she leaned against the bedroom door. “Otherwise it’s going to look like you’re bitter.”
I rolled onto my side and stared at the wall. “But I am bitter, Pops.”
She groaned.
“I don’t wish them well,” I continued flatly. “I wish they would break up immediately. I hope she'll say no when Andy proposes.”
“Ivy!” She gasped like I’d just confessed to arson.
I pulled my pillow over my head and blocked one ear dramatically. “I don’t want to go. Leave me alone.”
She sighed—the long-suffering sigh of someone who’d known me long enough to see through my nonsense. “Okay, let’s be practical. Maddie’s your sister. And Andy is practically like your—”
“If you say the word brother,” I interrupted, peeling the pillow off my face to glare at her, “I will literally throw up. A sister doesn’t fantasise about sucking faces with her brother. Wanna know how many times I've imagined doing that with Andy?”
She snorted. “Relax. I wasn’t going to.”
“Yes, you were.”
She laughed and sat on the edge of my bed. “Just show your face for a few minutes. Be polite. Smile. Then we'll leave and come back upstairs.”
I turned to face her. “A few minutes?”
She nodded innocently. “Yeah. Like… thirty.”
“Thirty minutes?” I echoed.
“Mmhmm.” Her lips twitched. “Then we'll pull a Houdini.”
I stared at the ceiling, weighing my sanity against social obligation. “Fine,” I said finally. “Thirty minutes. That’s it. If I start crying or vomiting, we leave immediately.”
She clapped her hands together, beaming. “Deal! Now—what are you wearing?”
I smirked. “A bikini. Give Andy something to think about.”
Her face twisted in horror. “Absolutely not.”
Before I could protest, she jumped up and marched to my suitcase like a woman on a mission, yanking it open and rummaging through my things.
“There has to be something decent in here,” she muttered.
She froze mid-rummage, pulling out a neatly wrapped box with a silver ribbon.
She lifted it. “What’s this?”
I sat up and snatched it from her. “Not what you think.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You got Maddie a birthday present?”
I snorted. “As if. Maddie knows better than to expect gifts from me. My presence is her gift. Period.”
“Then who’s it for?”
“Your dad,” I said. “I missed his wedding. Figured I’d bring something thoughtful for him and Julia.”
Poppy and Andy’s father, Marcel Douglas, had gotten married recently. I was super happy when I heard he'd found someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Seeing as Poppy and Andy’s mom, Dolly, wasn't the best person around.
Marcel is such a nice man that I'm so glad he's found someone like Julia and that he's going to live out the rest of his life with her. She seems sweet and kind.
Poppy also mentioned that she had a son. A grown son named Lionel or something like that. Can't remember. She didn't speak about him much. And honestly? I didn't care to ask.
There was only one brother I was interested in.
Her hand flew to her forehead. “Oh my God.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I forgot,” she whispered.
“Forgot what?” I asked slowly. “That your dad got married?”
She groaned. “No! Dad asked me to pick him and Julia up from the airport today. They want to be here for Andy’s proposal. They're planning to surprise him.”
I straightened. “When?”
She checked her phone—then paled. “Shit. Their plane lands in forty-five minutes.”
“Oh.”
“Oh my God,” she repeated, pacing. “I had one job. One!”
I stood, grabbing my keys. “I’ll drive. Come on.”
“But traffic—”
“We won’t beat traffic by panicking,” I said, pulling on a gray sweater over my leggings and tank top. “Move.”
~~~~
By the time we hit the highway, traffic had already turned into a slow-moving nightmare. And Poppy was spiraling in the passenger seat.
“He’s going to be so disappointed,” she said for the tenth time. “I can’t believe I forgot.”
“He won’t,” I said calmly, eyes on the road. Marcel is physically incapable of being mad for more than ten minutes.”
She groaned. “Still.”
An hour later—an entire hour—we finally reached the airport and Poppy had officially lost her mind.
“Oh no. Oh no. This is bad.”
I pulled into the parking lot, scanning desperately. Cars were everywhere.
“There,” I said, spotting a lone empty space in the distance. “I’ll park there.”
“Go, go, go!” she urged, pointing ahead.
“I’ll be right behind you,” I said as she jumped out and bolted toward the terminal.
I drove forward—only for a sleek black sports car to swoop in from nowhere and slide neatly into the space.
My jaw dropped. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” I slammed the horn once. Then I did it again.
Nothing.
“That was my spot!” I muttered, pressing the horn again.
Finally, the driver’s door opened. A man stepped out.
Tall. Big. Broad-shouldered. Dressed in dark jeans and a fitted black shirt that clung in a way that felt indecent. The shirt was deliberately unbuttoned at the top to display the unique necklace he had on. He moved with a sort of lazy confidence, keys dangling from one finger.
I rolled down my window. “Excuse me, dude!”
He paused, turning slowly. And oh well, that was…unfortunate because he was devastatingly attractive. Dark hair. Sharp jaw. Equally sharp brown eyes that flicked over me like he was taking inventory.
“Yes?” he said.
“That was my parking spot,” I snapped, pointing ahead.
He glanced behind him, then back at me. “Pretty sure it’s a public lot.”
“I saw it first.”
He smirked. “Then you should’ve driven faster.”
I stared at him. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly,” he replied, popping the trunk.
I climbed out of my car, fury fueling my steps. “You literally stole it.”
He shrugged. “Welcome to airports, sweetheart.”
“You know what?” I said, pointing. “Karma’s real. I hope your flight gets delayed.”
He chuckled, entirely unbothered. “Already landed.”
I scoffed. “Figures.”
He leaned against his car, eyes glinting with amusement. “Are you always this hostile, or am I just special?”
“I’m having a day,” I said flatly.
“Ah,” he nodded. “That explains it. A red day, I guess?”
I huffed and turned away, stalking off in search of another spot. “I've got no time for this.”
Behind me, his voice followed. “Good luck with your… day, vixen.”
I didn’t respond. But somehow, annoyingly, his presence lingered—like a disturbance in the air.
And I had the strange feeling that running into him wasn’t an accident at all.
