Chapter 4

"No problem. I appreciate it, Vivian!" Ivy said.

Ivy beamed with enthusiasm, swung open the car door, and hopped into the back seat like she owned the place.

She treated Vivian like a chauffeur.

Vivian's face darkened right away, but since she was always wearing a scowl, it didn't really make much of a difference.

Instead of starting the car right away, Vivian popped open the glove compartment and pulled out a few different boxes of pills.

"When did you and Mr. Ford sleep together?" she asked bluntly.

Ivy almost thought she'd misheard.

"What did you just say?" she asked.

"Depending on when it happened, you'll need a different kind of morning-after pill. Just tell me the exact time," Vivian said bluntly.

Vivian studied Ivy through the rearview mirror, her eyes practically boring holes into her. She pressed, "Spit it out. Don't waste my time."

Ivy couldn't help but laugh, more out of exasperation than amusement.

She lounged back in the roomy back seat, crossing one leg over the other.

After all, she wasn't the one stressing out.

Ivy mocked, "Vivian, are you in charge of Mr. Ford's private parts now? Is this covered by your regular salary, or do you get a special bonus for handling his bedroom affairs?

"Do you hand out morning-after pills to every woman he sleeps with? What are you, his chief eunuch or something?"

Vivian's face was stone cold. She said, "This is Mr. Ford's order. He told me to make sure you take the pill."

"Did Mr. Ford really ask you to get that specific? Like, the exact moment he finished inside me?" Ivy shot back, not bothering to sugarcoat it.

She sneered, "Why don't you just ask him yourself? He went at it so hard, I lost track of time."

Vivian was stunned speechless by how bold Ivy was. She was so mad that she couldn't even get a word out.

"Aren't you going to start the car? If you're not in a hurry, neither am I," Ivy said, her tone cool and unbothered.

She picked up the bottled water from the back seat, checked that it was still sealed, and started fiddling with it absentmindedly.

"Fine," Vivian finally gritted out, her jaw clenched so tight her cheeks were practically shaking.

Since Ivy wouldn't take the pill, that was on her. Vivian would definitely snitch to Wade about it.

Vivian was about to put the pills away when Ivy suddenly reached over and grabbed the whole stash.

She skimmed the instructions, picked one at random, and washed it down with the bottled water in her hand.

Ivy didn't want to have Wade's kid anyway, and with Vivian bringing so many options, she didn't even need to make a trip to the pharmacy.

Vivian stiffened, feeling like Ivy had just smacked her right in the face.

Before long, the car pulled up at the mall.

"We're here to pick out a dress for tonight's charity gala," Vivian said as she ushered Ivy out of the car, reading straight from the invitation.

She said, "Formal dress required. Women's gowns should cover at least a third of the thigh."

Ivy realized Vivian was trying to throw shade, acting as if she'd never been to a high-class event before. So Ivy beat her to the punch.

She interrupted, "Vivian, is this your first time at a fancy gala?"

Vivian frowned, sizing Ivy up. She replied, "Of course not. What are you trying to say?"

Ivy said, "Then what's with the rule-reading? I've gone to plenty of these events with Mr. Ford. You really think I don't know how to dress myself?

"It's like reading the instructions for a pad. You've been a woman your whole life, Vivian. Do you really need to check the manual every time?"

Vivian's face, which had already looked pretty sour, now turned pitch black, as she'd just swallowed a fly. Seriously, it couldn't get any uglier.

Ivy didn't even bother with her. In a great mood, she sauntered right into a luxury store, grabbed a long dress, and held it up in front of the mirror, sizing herself up.

Vivian finally found a chance to throw some shade at Ivy. She remarked, "That strappy dress is way too revealing."

Ivy shot her a look, then grabbed another dress off the rack.

"Those sleeves will block Mr. Ford. It'll make him look bad when he's talking business," Vivian kept nitpicking.

"These sleeves? They're called puff sleeves. If you're gonna nitpick, at least get your facts straight," Ivy replied, totally unfazed.

She resolved not to get angry herself, but to make the troublemaker angry instead.

Vivian kept up her barrage of criticism. She shot back, "That thing's so tight you can barely walk. How do you expect to look next to Mr. Ford in that? Do you even know the first thing about gala etiquette?"

Ivy snapped the dress back onto the rack.

Her patience was running out. Since Vivian wanted to play hardball, Ivy decided she wasn't going to take it anymore. She grabbed a pink, poofy dress.

"That dress is way over the top..." Vivian started, but before she could finish, Ivy pressed the dress right up against her, shutting her down.