Unwrapped (Sugar & Spice #1)

5. Ivy

Chapter 5

Ivy

M y apartment twinkles with the soft glow of Christmas lights strung across my bookshelves and the small tree Tessa and I picked up last weekend when I dragged her to the local Christmas tree lot down the street. It’s cozy in here, the kind of atmosphere that’s supposed to be soothing. But instead, my mind is a chaotic mess, tangled with nerves about the Mercer holiday party tomorrow.

I sit cross-legged on the living room floor, surrounded by a sea of wrapping paper, ribbons, and half-wrapped gifts. My hands fumble with a roll of silver ribbon, but I’m too distracted to manage a decent bow. The idea of being at that party has my stomach in knots, and I can’t seem to shut off the anxious thoughts running through my head.

Tessa claims it’ll be good for us—a chance to network with people who might help make our bakery dream a reality. And I know she’s right. But it’s not just the thought of making small talk with potential investors that has me on edge.

It’s Asher.

“Come on, you’re making that face again,” she says, flopping down beside me and nudging me with her shoulder.

I glance at her, trying to act casual. “What face?”

She arches an eyebrow, giving me a knowing look. “That face. The one you make when you’re overthinking something to death. What’s got you so worked up?”

I shrug, not meeting her eyes, focusing on the ribbon in my hands instead. “It’s just… the party. I’m not sure I belong there.” I fidget with a piece of wrapping paper, smoothing out the wrinkles that don’t actually exist. “You should have seen his office, Tess, and him…” Her eyes grow wide. “You could smell how expensive he is, not to mention that his suit had to have been custom and his watch—probably a Rolex or something.”

Tessa’s expression softens, the teasing fading from her eyes. “Look, I know you’re nervous, but just be yourself. You don’t have to impress him or anyone else. Who gives a shit if he’s a gazillionaire? He’s still just Asher Mercer from high school, right?”

I nod, trying to absorb her words, but my chest still feels tight with uncertainty. This is the part of business that terrifies me, the rubbing elbows with important people and trying to convince them you deserve their money or even worse, their business. “It’s just… I don’t know if I’m ready for this. And we do have to impress people if we’re looking to network and find investors or whatever. What if I mess up or say something awkward or?—”

Tessa lets out a snort, cutting me off. “Ivy, you have literally faced down furious college professors, tricky yeast doughs, and Chicago traffic during rush hour. I think you can handle a holiday party. Oh, and that insane lady who had a rat on a leash in the train that one time; she was terrifying!”

I let out a shaky laugh, despite myself. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Besides,” she reassures me. “That’s my job. I’m the face of the bakery, the business side of things. And you know I never shut the hell up, so trust me. I can handle schmoozing some rich folks. You just focus on having a good time and hanging out with Asher.”

“But I still don’t know what I’m supposed to say to him. We barely knew each other back then, and now it’s like… I don’t even know if he remembers me at all. It feels stupid to reminisce about high school when we have basically no memories together and I have zero idea what a big-time CEO even talks about.” I can feel my throat tightening again, my anxiety getting the better of me.

Tessa pulls back slightly, looking me straight in the eye. “He remembers you, Ivy. Trust me. Guys like Asher don’t invite you to parties for no reason. And besides, this is amazing; you have a blank slate with him. You guys can flirt, do that super sexy touching of his arm, flick your hair, press your tits together!” I laugh, that anxious feeling melting into excitement. “That is arguably one of the most fun and sexy times with a guy—the talking phase.” She swoons.

“Really?” My nose scrunches. “I always felt like it was the most stressful time. Trying to relate and find things to talk about; you know I stress about small talk. Most people don’t want to talk about quantum or atomic theory and I really am not interested in hearing about another man’s investment portfolio.”

“Did I teach you nothing?” She scoffs before jumping up dramatically. “Remember in high school when I’d tell you to watch me when I walked over to Darren Thompson and he’d just melt in a puddle of goo at my feet—that’s what you need to channel at this party with Asher.”

“Uh, that was like ten years ago and I’m pretty sure tying a cherry stem into a knot with my tongue isn’t going to impress him.”

“Not that.” She grabs my arms and places me so I’m standing in front of her. “I’m talking about when you’re engaging with him, lean in.” She shows me, her eyes softening as she smiles like she’s laughing at something I’ve said. “Touch his arm, like this.” She demonstrates, then cocks her head. “Make him think you’re hanging on every word he’s saying. Guys eat that shit up.”

“The problem isn’t that I can’t remember this stuff, Tess. I’ve seen all the rom-coms too. The problem is I get in my head and clam up because I’m either overthinking or I trip, stumble, and then swan dive into an unrelatable topic of such insane proportions the guy sneaks out of my apartment when I get up to go the restroom.”

“You brought out a model of an atom, Ivy.”

“It was a polyhedron molecular model actually.”

“Not the point.”

“Right.” I sigh. “I really don’t want to be alone forever, I swear. I just feel like I’ve completely lost myself along this bakery journey. Not that I don’t want it, it’s my dream. It’s just—I guess I naively didn’t realize just how much of it would consume me to the point I feel like I’m just existing.”

It feels good to finally admit that out loud.

“I’m sorry, Ivy.” Tessa’s face softens and we sink down to the floor, talking like we did when we were sixteen. “I didn’t realize you felt that way. At times I wondered if you were avoiding the world, seeing you lock yourself away and work on recipes and concepts while also trying to give your job one hundred and ten percent.”

“I think it happened subconsciously. I know I’m safe in the kitchen, safe in a book—but I’ve never met someone I felt safe enough with to truly be myself and not feel like I’m always putting on a show of what they want to see.”

“Ah, shit. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that with my little lessons about flirting.”

“No, no, I know that. It’s me. I’m the one who gets in my head. I convince myself it’s easier to just stay in the lane I know rather than see what else is out there. And as much as I don’t want to admit it…” I smile at her. “Us being together twenty-four seven has also given me an out to not seek companionship elsewhere.”

“Yeah, I’ve had that realization too.” She bumps against my shoulder. “Kind of hard for any man to compare when your best friend is your soul mate. But you have to make room for yourself this year; you have to let me do more so that you can find yourself again. You deserve that. We both deserve that.”

Her words hit me in a way I wasn’t expecting, and for a moment, I can’t speak around the lump in my throat. I blink back the sudden prickle of tears, swallowing hard before I manage to reply. “Thanks, Tess. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She squeezes my shoulders, her grin returning in full force. “Lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out. Now, come on—we have to figure out what we’re wearing tomorrow. You can’t just show up in your usual sweater-and-jeans combo. It’s time to break out the big guns.”

I raise an eyebrow, trying to keep up with her sudden shift in tone. “Big guns?”

She hops to her feet, practically bounding over to my closet. “The little black dress I convinced you to buy last year. The one you swore you’d never wear because it was ‘too ‘sexy Well, tomorrow night, it’s making its debut.”

Dammit, I completely forgot I do have something to wear… technically.

I shake my head, but a small smile tugs at my lips. “Tessa, I don’t know… it’s just a party. And I’m not sure a little black dress is exactly me.”

She waves a dismissive hand, already rummaging through my closet. “Nonsense. You’ll look amazing. Besides, you said it yourself—this is a chance for us to network, right? We need to make a good impression. And that starts with showing up looking like a million bucks.”

I hesitate, watching her pull the dress from the back of the closet, holding it up with a triumphant grin. It’s sleek, elegant, the kind of thing I’d never have picked out for myself, but as I study it, I feel a flicker of curiosity. Maybe, stepping out of my comfort zone wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

“Okay,” I say finally, taking the dress from her hands, “but if I look ridiculous, I’m blaming you.”

Tessa just grins, giving me a playful salute. “Blame away. But trust me, Ivy, tomorrow night is going to be the start of something great. For the bakery, for us… and maybe even for you and Asher.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t quite squash the tiny thrill of hope that flutters in my chest. Maybe she’s right. Maybe this party is the beginning of something new and maybe wearing this dress is the first step I can take toward finding myself.

That night, I lie awake, staring at the shadows that the Christmas lights I’ve left on in my window cast on the ceiling. I think about Tessa’s words, about the possibility of a fresh start, and I try to picture what that would even look like. I’ve been so focused on work and building this business the last few years, I haven’t given myself the chance to stop for even a second to ask what I want.

Asher. That’s what I want.

That familiar flush creeps up my neck, my thighs beginning to rustle restlessly beneath the sheets. An aching need has settled between my thighs the last few days. I squeeze tighter, my hands wandering down my body to find release. My skin is warm, hot even. My pulse quickens, my breath picking up as my fingers slip over my clit.

I’m so primed that within a minute or two I’m gasping, my whispered moans breaking the silence. I kick my blankets from my body, the soft breeze from my overhead fan a welcome reprieve.

I wonder if Asher is thinking about me—if he’s thought about me while stroking himself. The thought scares me as much as it excites me.

I think about the moments in his office—his smile, the way he’d seemed genuinely interested in our bakery plans, the way his eyes had lingered on mine a second longer than necessary. I want to believe that it meant something, that maybe he sees me differently now, but I can’t quite bring myself to hope too much.

What if I’m just reading into things that aren’t there? What if he’s only inviting us because he feels obligated or because he’s trying to impress Tessa? The doubts twist in my chest, making it hard to breathe. A sickening feeling rushes through me as I think that maybe he was into her all these years and that’s why his face conveyed his shock when I walked into his office.

It was disappointment, not excitement.

But then I remember the way he’d leaned in when he spoke to me, how he’d listened when I talked about our recipes with that intense focus that made me feel like I was the only person in the room. I can’t help but hope there’s a chance I’m not imagining things.

I close my eyes, letting out a slow breath as I try to calm my racing thoughts. Tessa’s right—I’ve faced plenty of challenges before, and I’ve always come out stronger. Tomorrow is just another step, another chance to show myself what I’m capable of. And maybe, if I’m lucky, it’ll be a chance to show Asher too.

As I finally drift off to sleep, I hold on to that thought, letting it warm me like the glow of the Christmas lights.

The next day passes in a blur of last-minute baking and frantic preparation, with Tessa fussing over every detail of our outfits like it’s the damn Oscars and not just a corporate holiday party. I barely have time to breathe before I find myself standing in front of my bathroom mirror, smoothing out the dress that hugs my curves in a way that makes me feel both exposed and… powerful.

“Holy fucking shit!” Tessa gushes. “You look like a sexy Morticia Adams!”

The black silk lies gently across my breasts that are on prominent display in the corset top. I suck in another breath, my waist looking impossibly narrow with the magic of this dress. I turn to double-check my profile, doubt starting to creep in.

“I don’t know.” I turn in the mirror, looking at the way the sheen of the material accentuates my shape. “It feels like it’s too much.”

Tessa beams at me from the doorway, her own dress shimmering in the low light. “You look incredible, Ivy. Stop overthinking it. He’s not going to know what hit him.”

I take a deep breath, willing myself to believe her. “It’s just a party,” I remind myself, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m doing this for us. For the bakery.”

“Of course you are,” Tessa says with a sly grin, “and if a little holiday magic happens along the way, well, who’s going to complain?”

I laugh, the sound coming out more nervous than I intended, but Tessa just squeezes my hand and leads me toward the door.

“I might need some champagne to make that magic happen.”

As we step out into the cold night, my heart races with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. I tell myself that this is just another step toward our future, but I can’t shake the feeling that tonight might be more than that. That maybe, just maybe, it’s a chance for a new beginning. For the bakery, for us… and for me.

“Hey,” Tessa says, grabbing my hand as we ride the elevator to the top floor of the high-rise building. “Let this night be fun. I know we want to network but we also know that we can do this, even without the Mercer brothers’ connections.”

“You think so?” I ask, suddenly so nervous my stomach feels like it’s in my throat.

“Are you kidding me?” She laughs, adjusting her dress and pressing her tits up so her cleavage is more prominent. “Please.” She scoffs with that confidence I envy so much. “If boys can be successful in business, how hard can it be?”

The elevator doors glide open, and I step out into the glittering lobby of the Mercer high-rise. Everything is bathed in the soft glow of twinkling lights, gold and silver decorations draped over every surface.

Giant crystal snowflakes hang from the ceiling, spinning slowly, while festive garlands snake around the pillars and a tree that’s at least twelve feet tall stands in the center of the room. The scent of pine mingles with the faint, sophisticated aroma of hors d’oeuvres. The noise of laughter and clinking glasses washes over me, and my nerves flare up again, tightening my chest.

I smooth my hand over my dress, trying to ignore the way my stomach flips as I take in the crowd of elegantly dressed people. At least my fear of being overdressed is no longer a concern. The luxury dresses and custom tuxes make me feel like I’m crashing a party I was never invited to. Tessa, of course, looks like she belongs here, her shimmering silver dress catching the light as she strides confidently beside me.

“Wow, this is… something,” I murmur, glancing around at the lavish decorations and the sleek, high-ceilinged space, trying not to feel like a complete fish out of water.

“It’s a lot, but you’re going to be fine,” Tessa whispers back, looping her arm through mine and giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. “Come on, let’s find Asher and Zane. Remember, we’re here for business, Ivy.” She gives me a wink. “Just talk business; you’re confident as hell in our plan.”

“Right.” I nod, but my voice comes out weaker than I’d like. Tessa leads us into the thick of the party, weaving through the clusters of guests. I try to steady my breathing, but the second my eyes land on Asher across the room, my mind goes blank.

He’s standing near the bar, surrounded by a group of well-dressed guests, all of them laughing at something he just said. He looks like he’s stepped out of a holiday magazine—black suit, perfectly tailored, his hair neatly combed but with just a hint of the boyish tousle that made him so effortlessly charming back in high school. There’s a warmth in his smile as he chats with his guests, but when his gaze shifts and locks on mine, something changes in his expression. It’s as if a spark jumps between us, and for a moment, I feel like he’s seeing me—not just the quiet girl from high school, but the woman standing before him now.

Asher’s smile falters, then transforms into something more genuine, less polished. He says something to the people around him, excusing himself from the conversation, and starts making his way through the crowd toward us. My breath catches in my throat as he draws closer, his eyes never leaving mine.

Tessa’s grip on my arm tightens, and she leans in, whispering playfully, “Breathe, Ivy. You’ve got this.”

But I don’t feel like I have this at all. My heart is hammering in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears. Tessa gives me one last encouraging smile before Asher reaches us, and then she releases my arm, letting me stand on my own.

“Ivy, Tessa, you made it.” Asher’s smile is wide, but there’s something else in his eyes as he looks at me—something curious, maybe even a little nervous. His gaze lingers, sweeping over my breasts before meeting my eyes again. I feel heat rising to my cheeks when his eyes darken and drop back down to my breasts, lingering long enough to not just be a casual glimpse.

“We wouldn’t miss it,” Tessa says, her voice light and teasing, “especially not with such great company.” She nudges me subtly, a gesture that’s far from subtle.

Asher’s eyes stay on me, his smile softening. “It’s good to see you here, Ivy. You look…” He clears his throat. “Fucking incredible.”

I let out a small, nervous laugh, trying to deflect the compliment. “Thank you.”

“Sorry, I just…that was unprofessional but, shit.” He gestures toward me. “Yeah, I stand by it; you look fucking incredible.”

I laugh nervously. My stomach does about sixteen backflips and I’m confident my face is a record setting shade of red. “I think I might be a little underdressed compared to everyone else,” I say, gesturing around at the sea of black-tie attire.

His gaze doesn’t follow my hand movement, remaining focused on me. He leans in slightly, his voice dropping just enough that only I can hear him. “Trust me, nobody is noticing a fucking thing except you in that dress.”

His words send a shiver through me, the low tenor of his voice pulling me in. Instead of wanting to disappear into the ground beneath his intense gaze, I feel the desire to lean in a touch closer, my body swaying just an inch.

For a moment, the noise of the party fades into the background, and it’s just the two of us, standing there in the glow of the Christmas lights, the air between us buzzing with something I can’t quite name.

Tessa clears her throat dramatically, and I snap back to the present, taking a step back. “Oh my God. Sorry. Asher, you remember Tessa?” In my excitement to see him again, I completely forgot that they haven’t seen each other or even spoken yet.

“Excuse me.” He extends his hand toward her. “That was rude of me. Tessa, so great to see you again. I was just admiring Ivy’s dress.”

“I know right? A total smoke show and to think she almost didn’t wear it,” she laughs, flashing me a quick I told you so look “And it’s great to see you too.” She shakes his hand confidently. “Thanks again for inviting us and for talking about our business plan.”

“Of course I’m so happy you two could make it. I had a great conversation with Ivy, I’m sure she told you about it when she got back, sorry I kept her so long. I think we talked for what—three hours?” He asks, looking over at me.

“Um yeah,” I blush, Tessa’s brow lifting slowly when he reveals just how long I was at his office, a little detail I may have left out when we reconvened later that day. His eyes shoot back to me and that nervous smile I can’t seem to hide slides back into place. It’s like there’s a little hidden secret being exchanged between us.

“Well, I’m going to grab a drink,” Tessa says, all but winking at me. “I’ll leave you two to… catch up. Asher, we’ll talk later.”

Before I can protest, she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd with a knowing smile. I feel a rush of both annoyance and gratitude toward her—annoyance because she’s left me alone with Asher, but gratitude because… maybe I don’t mind being alone with him.

Asher’s gaze follows Tessa for a moment, then returns to me, an apologetic smile tugging at his lips. “I think she planned that.”

“She definitely did,” I reply, managing a small smile of my own. “She’s not exactly subtle.”

He chuckles softly, running a hand through his hair, making it look even more perfectly tousled. “She hasn’t changed much, has she?”

“No,” I say, my smile growing a little, “she hasn’t.”

Asher pauses, studying me with an intensity that makes my heart flutter uncomfortably. “And what about you, Ivy? Have you changed?”

The question catches me off guard, and I’m not entirely sure how to answer it. I shift my weight, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his gaze. “I don’t know. I guess… maybe I’ve grown up a bit. Learned to take more risks.” The last part is more of a thing I intend to do.

“What kind of risks?”

“Well, opening a bakery for one.”

“That’s a big one.”

“What about you, Asher? I imagine you’re not exactly the same guy from high school either.”

He smiles, but there’s a shadow behind it. “Yeah, I guess a lot has changed. Turning a company into an empire will do that to you. Shit.” He shakes his head. “That sounded douchey as hell.”

“No.” I laugh, my hand darting out to touch his arm softly, my eyes immediately looking down to see where my fingertips are resting on him. I almost pull them back but Tessa’s little trick from the other night comes back to me and I let my fingers linger. “I get what you’re saying. It would be silly not to consider how running a multimillion-dollar company could change you or your perception of the world.”

His eyes struggle to stay focused on mine, dropping just as I pull my hand back, my fingers dragging slowly down his arm and over his wrist as I pull back. “I bet it’s a lot of pressure. Keeping up with the company, making sure everything runs smoothly while also being in the spotlight?”

“Yeah, it can be. But it’s… worth it, I think. I’m not one of those people who wants to pretend that their privileged life is harder than anyone else’s. And it’s nice, every once in a while, to be reminded of where I came from because it is easy to let it all go to your head, get blinded by it all, and lose sight of what’s really important.”

I tilt my head, curiosity bubbling up despite my nerves. “Is that what this party is for? A reminder?” He glances around, understanding I’m referring to the lavish extent to which this place is decorated and the piles and piles of presents with his employees’ names on them.

He shrugs, but there’s a wry smile on his lips. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just an excuse to throw a fancy party and pretend I know what I’m doing.”

I laugh softly, and the tension between us eases, a little more. “Well, you’re doing a pretty good job of pretending.”

He grins, and for a second, it feels like we’re back in high school, trading easy smiles across a crowded room. But then his expression shifts, turning more serious, more uncertain. He takes a step closer, his voice lowering again. “Ivy, I’ve been thinking about our meeting. About what you said and the bakery.”

My pulse quickens, and I brace myself, unsure of where this is going. “Oh? And what did you think?”

He hesitates, his expression earnest. “I think you and Tessa have something really special. And I want to help you make it happen, if you’ll let me.”

The offer catches me off guard, and for a moment, I can’t speak. “What do you mean? In what capacity?”

“I want to be an investor. I know you’re already working with a lender and we can get my finance people on with them so that it wouldn’t drag things out further or screw up any offers you might have already.”

I blink several times, my mouth still hanging open. “Uh, um, no… no offers yet.”

“With my investment, you and Tessa could keep your cash liquid, really lean into marketing, and let Tessa not be financially cuffed by such a tight budget that you are currently operating under.”

“Thank you, Asher,” I manage, my voice softer than I intended. “I’m not sure what to say— Tessa, I should talk with Tessa though.”

“Of course, absolutely.” We stand there in silence for several seconds.

He holds my gaze, and for a heartbeat, the air between us is charged with something unspoken, something electric. I can feel the heat of him, the way his presence seems to fill the space around us, and I’m suddenly very aware of how close we’re standing. If I reached out, I could touch his chest, feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt. The thought makes my breath hitch.

“Ivy—” he starts, but before he can finish, someone claps him on the shoulder, pulling him away.

“Asher, my man! Great party!” A tall, smiling man ambles up to us, oblivious to the moment he’s interrupted. He extends his hand, and Asher’s expression shifts back to the polished smile he was wearing when I spotted him across the room earlier.

“Thanks, Mike. Glad you could make it,” Asher replies, though his eyes flick back to me, an apology in his gaze.

I take a step back, trying to hide the disappointment that surges through me. “It’s okay,” I murmur, managing a smile. “Go ahead, do your thing.”

He hesitates, like he wants to say more, but then he nods. “I’ll find you later, okay? Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”

I nod, but as he’s swept back into the crowd, I can’t help feeling like the moment we shared is slipping through my fingers. I turn away, searching for Tessa, but my mind keeps replaying the way Asher looked at me, the way his voice softened when he spoke my name.

I make my way through the glittering crowd, trying to ignore the flutter in my chest and the undeniable urge to turn around and look back at him one more time.