“Ivan,” I say, my voice hardly more than a whisper as I stare at him from the top of the steps. Then, realizing that I’m standing here basically naked in my tiny robe, I clutch the fabric closed at my throat and take a deep breath, trying to figure out what the hell to do next. What is he doing here!?
“I take it,” Ivan says, his smirk deepening, “by your state of dress that you are…not ready yet? Do you need a few more minutes?”
“A few more minutes?” I ask, baffled. And then, fully aware that Kent’s eyes are on me, I flit down the steps until I’m eye-level with Ivan. “What are you talking about, Ivan? Why are you – what are you –“
Seeing that I’m not playing coy and that I’m genuinely confused, Ivan frowns at me. “Didn’t you get my texts, Fay? Or your dad’s? This was…all set up.”
I
