They grabbed a bite at a diner near the university–it was just a quick five–minute
drive.
A middle–aged man greeted them and showed them around a modest two–bedroom apartment, about 900 square feet.
The place was relatively new, fully furnished, and move–in ready except for a few everyday essentials they’d need to pick up.
Ivy’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction as she glanced at her husband.
Jamison caught the look and murmured, “So, shall we stay here for now?”
She nodded. “Yeah, it’s nice.”
The apartment was great, but it definitely needed a thorough cleaning and some personal touches. Unpacking and getting settled would take at least a couple of days.
“I’ll send someone over tomorrow to spruce the place up,” Jamison said, ever attentive. “We’ll swap out the couch and the bed. Once everything’s sorted, you un
move in.”
Ivy frowned, lowering her voice. “Cleaning, sure. But the couch and the bed? That’s a bit much, isn’t it?”
It was just a rental; no need to make a fuss.
“It’s necessary,” he replied with absolute seriousness. “I’m not sleeping in a bed that’s had other people in it.”
Ivy shot him a look. “Who said you were moving in? This is for me.”
Jamison’s mood visibly lifted at the thought of his wife living off campus. He even felt playful enough to tease, “Of course. You sleep, I’ll just sleep with you.”
She punched his arm, half laughing, half exasperated.
Once they left the apartment, Jamison immediately called to arrange a cleaning crew and order new furniture for the next day.
Ivy made a token protest, then let it go. She could see right through him—he was making the best of the situation. Once she moved out of the dorms, he’d probably be over every other night, so a nice new bed was hardly a waste.
Emma and Roberta probably had no idea they were indirectly doing Mr. Jamison a
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favor.
They drove to the nearest five–star hotel.
After checking in and heading up to their room, Ivy couldn’t resist teasing, “Mr. Jamison, you know the hotel bed’s been used by plenty of people. Should we have them bring in a new one for you?”
Jamison had just put his phone down when he heard her. He looked up to see the mischief in her eyes and, unable to help himself, reached out for her.
Ivy was quicker, dodging away. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
He crooked his finger at her. “Come here.”
“Nope.” She knew exactly what he was up to, and the more he tried, the further she retreated.
He was about to chase her when his phone rang on the table.
“Uncle Jamison, Emma snuck back to the Windsor estate late tonight. Looks like she’s staying there overnight.”
Now that they knew Emma was still scheming for revenge, Boyd reported every suspicious move she made.
“Alright, just keep an eye on her,” Jamison instructed before hanging up.
He turned to Ivy. “Emma’s back at the Windsor house. Who knows what they’re plotting now.”
The mention of the Windsor family reminded Ivy of the shares she still held. At any moment, she could take over Windsor Group and kick Adkins and Baillie out, just as they’d thrown her out months ago.
But she wasn’t interested in being CEO of Windsor Group.
There were better uses for those shares…
An idea sparked. She suddenly asked, “You said the Windsors called me yesterday–what, to beg me to go easy on Emma?”
“Most likely.” Jamison crossed the room, slipped an arm around her waist, and pulled her into his lap on the armchair. “What are you planning?”
“Something wicked,” Ivy replied coolly, a sly smile curling her lips as she dialed the Windsor family’s number. “Emma cut all ties with them before, but now she’s back on her own accord. There’s only one reason for that.”
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