Icing Ivy

Icing Ivy Read Free

Book: Icing Ivy Read Free
Author: Evan Marshall
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anyway,” Stanley said.
    â€œI know.” Jane gave him a kiss as he opened the door to leave.
    â€œHello,” Jane heard him say outside, and a moment later he was showing in Rhoda Kagan and her boyfriend, Adam Forrest. “Later,” Stanley told Jane, and left.
    Rhoda looked smashing, as always, in black slacks and a brilliant indigo sweater. Huge black Bakelite earrings set off her sleekly cut dark brown hair.
    â€œHello, darling,” she said, exchanging cheek kisses with Jane. “You remember Adam.”
    â€œOf course.” Jane had last seen Adam at a local party about a month earlier. “How are you, Adam? You’re looking well.”
    Adam, independently wealthy, always looked well—trim and tan and neat. Today he wore tan Dockers and an expensive-looking brown sweater. “Thanks, Jane.” He seemed nervous, awkward somehow.
    â€œSo what’s doing, guys?” Jane asked them. “You Christmas shopping?”
    Rhoda shot Adam a look.
    â€œJane,” he said, “Rhoda and I . . . well, I need to ask you a favor. . . .”

Chapter Two
    F lorence’s gaze was fixed on Winky, whose pregnant tortoiseshell belly swung from side to side as she padded across the family room and out into the foyer. “So what do you think, missus? Are you going to do it?”
    Jane sipped her tea. She had just told Florence what Adam had asked her to do.
    Adam had recently bought Mt. Munsee Lodge, located at the top of Mt. Munsee at the northernmost end of Shady Hills. The lodge was a popular spot for hikers and campers, except in the winter, when the lodge’s previous owner had shut it down. But Adam had come up with an idea to make money in the off-season. He had been sponsoring five-day “theme retreats” on topics ranging from yoga to investing.
    Adam had scheduled a retreat for would-be antiques dealers for the following week—the week between Christmas and New Year’s—but had learned that morning that its leader would be unable to appear because his wife was quite ill.
    It was Rhoda who had come up with the idea of organizing a fiction writers’ retreat to take the place of the antiques one.
    Florence said, “Why doesn’t he forget about it and enjoy the holidays?” A smile brightened her pretty coffee-colored face. “He doesn’t need the money.”
    â€œApparently he does,” Jane said. “Or, to put it another way, it would help.”
    â€œI see . . .” Florence said thoughtfully. “But how can such a thing possibly be arranged on such short notice?”
    â€œThe lodge is small, so we wouldn’t need many people. And Adam says he always has one-on-one instruction at these retreats—which is another reason why there can’t be too many attendees. He said that if I can round up six instructors besides myself, he’ll sign up six attendees from a writers’ group here in town.”
    â€œWhat writers’ group?”
    â€œThe Midnight Writers. I had no idea they even existed.”
    â€œCould you ‘round up’ six instructors?” Florence asked.
    â€œI’m not sure. Probably, if I set my mind to it. I’d call editors, authors, other agents—nah, just editors and authors—and could probably come up with six.”
    â€œDon’t you want to take the week between Christmas and New Year’s off? You do that every year.”
    â€œTrue—which is why I’m available. I’ve been looking forward to spending the time with Nick, but I really do feel I should help Rhoda and Adam out with this. Besides, I’ve just had my vacation—I’m not in dire need of a rest.” Less than a month earlier, Jane had spent two glorious weeks in Antigua. “And I’ll make it up to Nick.”
    â€œYou may miss the blessed event,” Florence said, referring to Winky’s imminent delivery. She rose from the sofa and took Jane’s

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