The Man Plan by Tracy Anne Warren Page A

you’re already busy that night,” she finished, anger and frustration adding a crisp tartness to her words.
    “Parker and I are promised for a dinner party. Ivy, I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”
    She waved a hand. “Doesn’t matter. Actually, it frees me up to go to another party.”
    His frown deepened. “What party?”
    “Didn’t I tell you? Josh, Neil, and Fred are throwing a big Fourth of July bash at their apartment. They’ve been after me for weeks to come, but I wanted to keep my options open. Seems I can say yes now.”
    “Those being the guys you were once planning to move in with?”
    She crossed her arms. “As a matter of fact, they are. I see my mother’s kept you well informed.”
    “Well informed enough to know they live in a sketchy part of town.”
    “There haven’t been any problems at the apartment. One of their neighbors is a cop, and he’s invited to the party too. In fact, I think most of the building’s invited. I’ll be fine.”
    “It sounds like trouble waiting to happen. I think you should stay home.”
    “Oh, so I’m supposed to sit home, am I? While you run off and enjoy yourself at some party with”—she broke off, circling a pair of fingers in the air—“whatshername? Palmer?”
    “Parker.”
    “Right.” She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’m a big girl now, grown up enough to go to parties without getting permission. Three years at college taught me all I need to know about that particular scene. I don’t think Josh and Neil will be throwing any surprises my way.”
    He sat silent and simmering, a hint of color rising beneath his tan.
    They didn’t say a word to each other for the rest of the game or later during the drive home.
    He finally broke his silence when they reached her apartment door. “What time should I come by to pick you up tomorrow night?”
    Six thirty,
she thought.
Six thirty, so we’ll have time for a quick dinner before the concert.
    But instead of those simple, nonconfrontational words, some devil prompted her to say something else. “You still want to go to the concert, then? I thoughtmaybe you’d decided to pick Parson up at the airport instead and spend the evening entertaining her.”
    His jaw tightened, his blue eyes turning hard. “I wasn’t, but it can always be arranged.”
    She knew she should back down, knew she should do whatever it took to end their fight, to smooth over the angry words and nasty silences. But her feelings were hurt, and damned if she was going to let him treat her like some spoiled child who didn’t enjoy sharing her toys.
    She squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “If that’s what you’d rather, it won’t put me out. Fred can use your ticket. He’s been salivating over the concert ever since he heard I was going. He’s a nice guy. You’d like Fred.”
    For a moment James looked ready to explode. Then it passed, a chill sweeping into his eyes. “I sincerely doubt that, but it doesn’t matter. If you don’t want to go to the concert with me, that’s fine. Good night, Ivy.”
    He turned and strode down the hall toward the elevator.
    When he was gone, she closed the door and leaned back against it, tears already sliding down her cheeks.
    God above, what have I done?
    She’d let hurt and resentment drive him away. She’d let pride get in the way where it never had before. Now she was the one who was sorry.
    Tomorrow night he’d be with Parker Manning instead of her. Tomorrow night he’d be in another woman’s arms, and she would have no one to blame but herself.

C HAPTER SIX
    I vy set down her paintbrush and stepped back from the canvas to inspect her work.
    It looked good, she decided. Not perfect, but good.
    Best of all, it was nearly finished. Another painting to add to her steadily growing stack of completed canvases.
    Over the past week she’d thrown herself into her art with a vengeance, fueled in great measure by the need to forget her misery over her fight with