Unwrapped (Sugar & Spice #1)

11. Ivy

Chapter 11

Ivy

T he moment we walk into the grand ballroom at the Mercer building, I feel a surge of excitement ripple through me. The air is thick with the hum of conversation, the sound of gentle laughter, and the soft strains of classical music floating from the live band in the corner. Crystal chandeliers hang overhead, casting a warm, golden glow across the room, making everything and everyone look effortlessly elegant. It’s the kind of event people dream about being invited to, and here I am, standing next to Asher as his girlfriend.

I still can’t quite believe it. Only a week ago, I’d been nervous about where things were heading between us, and now I’m at this glamorous event by his side, and it feels… surreal. Asher is dressed in a sleek black tux, looking every bit the powerful CEO he is, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back as we step farther into the room. There’s something intoxicating and so sexy about being here with him, about being his .

“Ready?” he asks, leaning down slightly so I can hear him over the soft buzz of the crowd. His voice is low, comforting, and I can’t help but smile up at him, nodding.

“Definitely,” I say confidently, swallowing down that ever present fear that this is all happening way too fast, way too easy, that the other shoe is bound to drop.

He grins, his hand giving my waist a gentle squeeze. “Let’s make the rounds. I need to say hello to a few people, but I’ll make sure we grab some time for ourselves too, okay?”

“Okay,” I say, my heart fluttering at the thought. I know these events are a big deal for him—networking, talking to investors and clients—but I’m just happy to be here. Happy to be with him.

As we move through the crowd, I notice the way people’s heads turn when Asher approaches. He’s magnetic, and everyone in the room seems to know it. He’s immediately swept up in conversations—introductions, firm handshakes, and the occasional well-placed joke that has his companions laughing. I hang back slightly, trying not to feel too much like a fish out of water in this world of polished, high-energy elites.

I remind myself that this is his world, and I need to support him in it. This is what he does. He’s the kind of guy who owns rooms like this, who thrives being the center of attention, and I knew that coming into this. So, when a group of business executives pulls him into another conversation, I let go of his arm with a smile and nod, telling myself it’s okay. He’ll come back to me. We’ll have our moment.

But as the minutes tick by, those moments are few and far between. Every time Asher finishes talking to one group, someone else comes up to him, and I watch as he seamlessly navigates the room, switching from one conversation to another like it’s second nature. I get a smile here, a touch of his hand there, but before I can say anything to him, someone else is pulling him away.

I push down the small pang of disappointment in my chest and tell myself to get over it.

This is his night, his world. I’m just here to be by his side, and that’s enough.

I take a deep breath and wander toward the bar, grabbing a glass of champagne to busy my hands. The cold fizz of the drink gives me something to focus on as I scan the room, watching Asher as he works the crowd. His charm is undeniable, and I can see why everyone in this room wants a piece of him.

He’s genuine. In a world of fake people who only want one thing from him, he’s rare.

But as much as I try to stay positive, that small voice in the back of my mind starts to creep in. What am I doing here, really? How do I fit into this world? The women gliding around the room in their designer gowns, perfectly poised, perfectly polished… they all seem so at ease here, while I feel like I’m holding my breath, hoping I don’t trip over my own feet.

It’s high school all over again.

I sip my champagne, trying to shake the feeling, but then I notice something. A group of women standing not far from me, their gazes flicking toward me, then back to each other as they whisper and laugh quietly. One of them, a striking blonde in a sleek red dress, glances at me again, her lips curling into a smug smirk.

I immediately feel a rush of self-consciousness, the heat rising in my cheeks as I turn away, pretending I didn’t notice. But the doubt is already creeping in. They know who I am. They know I’m with Asher. Are they judging me? Do they think I don’t belong here? I try to brush it off, but the weight of their stares settles over me like a heavy blanket, smothering the excitement I felt when I first walked in.

I need a minute. Just a minute to pull myself together.

I head toward the restroom, my heart pounding in my chest. Once I’m inside, I lean against the sink, taking deep breaths, trying to calm the swirl of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. It’s just nerves, I tell myself. I knew this wouldn’t be easy. I’m doing fine.

But as I turn on the faucet and splash some cool water on my hands, I hear voices drifting in from the other side of the restroom, two women talking in low, conspiratorial tones. At first, I don’t pay attention, but then I catch something that makes my stomach drop.

“Did you see her?” one of the women says, her voice laced with amusement. “I can’t believe she’s here with Asher. She’s not exactly his usual type.”

“Right?” the other one replies, laughing softly. “Actually, she’s cute, I guess, but… seriously, her? I kissed him at one of these events last year and that man could not get enough of my actual curves.”

I look down at my body, my narrow hips and less than ample backside. I at least have a solid B cup going for me but that can’t compete with the rest of my body that never caught up. My stomach flips, all those stupid insecurities I thought I’d defeated rushing back.

“And I’m pretty sure you spent the night with him after that fundraiser last spring, right?”

My breath catches in my throat. My hands freeze under the water as their words sink in. They’re talking about Asher. About being with him. About kissing him. And one of them spent the night with him?

“Yeah,” the first woman says, laughing again. “It’s funny, though. He’s always with someone new. I wonder how long this one will last.”

My heart clenches painfully in my chest, and I turn off the faucet, quickly drying my hands as I try to swallow the lump in my throat. I know it’s his past. I know he had a life before me, before us. But hearing it like this, from the mouths of women who have been with him, women who are now standing just a few feet away, laughing about it like it’s some kind of joke… it hurts.

I push open the restroom door and slip out into the hallway, the noise of the party feeling distant now as I make my way toward a quieter corner of the building. I find a small alcove, hidden away from the crowd, and lean against the wall, pressing my hands to my face as I try to steady my breathing.

This is what I was afraid of. This feeling of being swallowed up by his world, of not being able to keep up. I told myself I could handle it, but standing here now, hearing those women talk about Asher like I’m just the next one in line… it makes me question everything. Am I just another temporary part of his life? Someone he’ll move on from when he gets bored?

I don’t know how long I’ve been standing in one spot, lost in my thoughts, but eventually, I hear footsteps approaching. I look up to see Asher, his expression full of concern as he steps into the alcove.

“There you are,” he says softly, his brows furrowed as he takes in my clearly upset state. “I’ve been looking for you. What’s wrong?”

I bite my lip, feeling the sting of tears behind my eyes again. I don’t want to make a scene, but the words spill out before I can stop them. “I overheard some women in the restroom talking about you,” I say quietly, my voice trembling. “One of them said she spent the night with you after some fundraiser last year, and the other one kissed you. And they were… laughing about it, like I’m just the next one in line.”

Asher’s eyes widen, his face falling as he realizes what I’m saying. “Ivy, I?—”

“I know it’s your past,” I cut him off, shaking my head. “I know it shouldn’t matter. But hearing it like that… it hurt. It made me doubt everything.”

He steps closer, his hands reaching for mine. “Ivy, I don’t know who those women were, but I promise you, I don’t care about anyone from my past. I only care about you. I only want you.”

I look up at him, the sincerity in his voice clear, but the doubt is still gnawing at me. “I’m not sure I can do this, Asher. I rushed into things because I wanted to believe I could handle being in your world, but now I’m not so sure. I feel like I’m constantly trying to catch up, and I don’t know how to compete with your reputation, with… everything. I thought I was stronger and I know this is my issue, my insecurity but I just?—”

Asher’s grip tightens on my hands, and his voice is steady but full of emotion. “You don’t have to compete with anything, Ivy. I don’t care about what anyone else thinks. I don’t care about my reputation or this world. All I want is you. I don’t want to lose you.”

I swallow hard, tears threatening to spill over as I meet his gaze. He’s saying everything I want to hear, but the fear is still there, lurking in the background. “I don’t know if I’ll ever fit into this life of yours.”

Asher’s gaze is unwavering, his hands gripping mine like he’s afraid I might slip away. “Ivy, listen to me. I know this is overwhelming, and I know it’s won’t always be easy. But I promise you, I will make it all worth it. I don’t want you to feel like you don’t belong. I’ll make sure you know how much you mean to me, how much this means to me.”

His words hit me hard, tugging at something deep inside me. I want to believe him, want to believe that we can somehow make this work despite the glaring differences between our worlds. But before I can respond, someone approaches us from behind, calling his name.

“Asher! Sorry to interrupt, but we need you for a moment,” a man says, gesturing toward the party. “The investors from London are ready to talk.”

Asher grimaces, glancing over his shoulder before turning back to me. “I’m so sorry. I’ll be right back, I promise. I just need to handle this, and then we’ll finish talking, okay?”

I nod, forcing a small smile, even though my chest feels tight. “It’s okay. Go.”

He squeezes my hands one last time, his eyes full of regret. “I’ll be back soon. I promise.” And then he’s gone, disappearing into the crowd before I can say anything else.

I watch him go, feeling the weight of the conversation settle over me like a heavy cloud. I know he didn’t want to leave, and I know his world is full of these obligations, but it still stings. I lean against the wall, feeling drained, my earlier excitement from being here as his girlfriend now dulled by doubt and uncertainty.

As I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, I hear footsteps approaching. I glance up to see Zane, Asher’s older brother, standing next to me. His presence is as imposing as ever, and while his expression isn’t unfriendly, there’s something in his eyes that tells me this isn’t just a casual chat.

“Hey,” Zane says, slipping his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. “I saw you over here, thought I’d come check on you.”

I offer a weak smile, trying to hide how rattled I feel. “Hey, Zane. I’m fine. Just… taking a breather.”

He nods, but I can tell he’s not buying it. I’ve always heard that Zane could see through people’s bullshit, that he has a knack for reading people. In the interviews I’ve read about him and Asher over the years, Asher always made it a point to give credit to Zane’s gut and how it’s served them over the years in their continued success. Now with him looking at me, I can’t help but wonder if he sees right through me as well. He leans against the wall next to me, crossing his arms as he looks out at the party.

“So,” he says casually, “you and my brother, huh?”

I glance over at him, unsure of where this conversation is heading. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Zane lets out a low chuckle, his eyes still scanning the room. “I’m all for it, you know. You’re good for him. Better than anyone else I’ve seen him with in a long time.”

His words should be comforting, but there’s something in his tone that puts me on edge. I frown, turning to face him fully. “But?”

He sighs, glancing down at me with a more serious expression. “But I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into with Asher. He’s a good guy, but his life… it’s complicated. He’s always had a lot of people pulling him in different directions, and sometimes it’s hard for him to keep his focus where it should be. On the things that really matter.”

I swallow hard, feeling the familiar twist of doubt tighten in my chest. “I know it’s not easy. I’ve already seen that.”

Zane’s gaze softens, but there’s still a warning in his eyes. “Look, I’m not saying he doesn’t care about you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you—it’s different. But I’ve also seen what happens when he gets caught up in all of this.” He gestures to the glittering party around us. “And it can be hard for him to find his way back. He’s got a lot on his plate, and sometimes the people in his life end up… collateral damage.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I glance down at the floor, trying to process what he’s saying. “Are you telling me to be careful?”

Zane hesitates for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. I guess I am. Asher’s got a good heart, but he’s always had this way of getting wrapped up in his reputation, in the image he’s built. Just… guard your heart, Ivy. Don’t let him pull you in too deep without making sure he’s fully in it with you.”

I look up at him, a sinking feeling settling in my stomach. “Do you think he’s not fully in it?”

Zane runs a hand through his hair, looking conflicted. “I think he is, but this life, this business… it can swallow people whole. Just make sure you’re not the one left behind, okay?”

I nod, my throat tight as I try to find the right words. “Thanks, Zane. I appreciate the honesty.”

He gives me a small smile, patting my shoulder. “You’re strong, Ivy. Don’t forget that.”

With that, he pushes off the wall and disappears back into the party, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I stand there for a moment, staring at the floor as the weight of everything Zane said settles over me.

I thought I could handle this. I thought I could fit into Asher’s world and be a part of it without losing myself. But standing here, hearing those women talk about him like he’s just another conquest, hearing Zane’s warning… it all makes me wonder if I rushed into this too fast. If maybe I wasn’t ready for everything that comes with being with someone like Asher Mercer.

I need to get out of here.

Without another thought, I slip out of the alcove and make my way through the ballroom, avoiding eye contact with anyone as I head for the exit. The noise of the party fades behind me as I step outside into the crisp night air, my heart heavy with doubt.

I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I can be part of his world without getting swallowed up by it.

And the worst part is, I’m not sure if Asher can stop it from happening either. I take my time changing out of my dress, giving it one last glance over before shoving it to the back of my closet where it belongs. I change into my comfy clothes, fastening the one thing around me that always makes me feel the most comfortable: my apron.

The notification pops up while I'm testing a new cookie recipe. The only thing that ever puts my mind at ease, even if it’s this late at night.

"Chicago's Most Eligible Bachelor OFF the Market? Who is this Mystery Woman?"

My stomach drops as I click the link. The article loads, revealing several photos - Asher and me at the Christmas market, another of us leaving his building, and one of him kissing my cheek outside Sugar & Spice.

My hand shoots up to cover my mouth, a gasp falling from my lips. “How’d they get these pictures?” It feels invasive, especially when I didn’t see a single camera around us during any of those times.

The comments section makes me wish I'd never scrolled down.

@ChicagoSocialite: Seriously? She's so... basic. What happened to that supermodel he was dating last year?

@MercerFanxoxo: This has to be fake. Asher would never date someone who looks like THAT.

@BusinessInsider312: A baker? Please. She's clearly after his money. Give it three months tops .

My hands shake as I keep reading, each comment worse than the last. They've dug up everything - old high school photos, the bakery's financial records, even my LinkedIn profile.

@CorporateQueen: No degree from an elite university, no social connections, nothing special at all. At least his ex went to Yale.

@ChiTownGossip: Sources say she went to high school with him. Probably been stalking him for years. Talk about desperate!

@AshersMercy: Look at her clothes in that market photo. Does she even own anything designer? This is embarrassing.

The timer dings, making me jump. The cookies are burning - I can smell them now. But I can't move, can't stop reading as strangers tear apart everything from my appearance to my worth.

My phone buzzes with a text from Ivy. Clearly she’s already seen it.

Tessa: Don't read the comments. I mean it, Ivy. Call me.

But it's too late. The words are already burrowing under my skin, confirming every insecurity I've ever had about being with Asher. They're right - I don't belong in his world. I never did.

I sink down onto the kitchen floor, the burnt cookies forgotten as tears blur my vision. The worst part? They're not saying anything I haven't thought myself.