“I see,” Tony says, even though he doesn’t. He takes my suitcases. “Just these two?”
“Couldn’t bring more. I only have two arms.” I sigh. “But my dad’s assistant is sending the rest to your address.”
My phone buzzes, and… Right on time, it’s Mr. Park.
“This is the tracking info for my stuff,” I say. “It should arrive sometime tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll tell the staff.” Tony grabs one of my suitcases and starts walking. “This way.”
“You’re the best. Hey, where’s Ivy? Waiting in the car?”
She probably doesn’t want to be standing around in airports now that she’s about to pop out a set of twins, a.k.a. my honorary nephew and niece. She’s due in six weeks.
“She’s at home. Her feet and legs swelled up like crazy this morning.” Tony frowns as we walk toward his car.
“What did Dr. Silverman say?” I ask. There’s no way Tony didn’t immediately drag Ivy out for a consultation. He’s paranoid about her health and safety.
“Said it was normal.” His tone says that’s bullshit. He’d probably consider suing the doctor if it weren’t for the fact that she’s one of the most sought-after obstetricians in the country. “But I don’t know how normal feet can swell up that bad. She couldn’t even put on her shoes this morning.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine.” I try for a soothing tone, although I feel sorry for my poor friend. Ivy’s built a great shoe collection with lots of advice from me. I even helped her buy a few stylish flats she could wear during pregnancy because I saw how my sister-in-law’s feet turned into giant buns. It must be frustrating not to be able to wear any of the cute stuff we picked out together.
“Yeah, hopefully.” Tony sounds a bit too grim. “Her back hurts a lot.”
“My sister-in-law had the same thing, but it went away once she had the baby. Just make sure to keep Ivy off her feet and totally resting all the time. I’ll help.”
Tony loads my suitcases into his silver Cullinan. I climb into the passenger seat and catch the start of Liszt’s “Mazeppa” coming through the speakers.
“No Mozart?” I ask.
“Ivy likes Liszt, and György Cziffra’s version is her favorite. And the twins seem to like it, too. They get really active when they hear it.”
I grin. If you’re going to listen to “Mazeppa,” you might as well listen to the best. “Smart babies.”
Tony maneuvers onto the freeway and drives us toward the huge mansion he built for Ivy. It doesn’t take long before the phone rings on the Bluetooth speakers and her voice comes through.
“So you picked her up, right?”
“Yeah, no problems,” Tony says.
“Hi, Ivy!” I say.
“Hey! I’m so happy you’re back in the States! Dying to catch up and talk about everything.”
By “everything,” she means why I needed to ask her to buy me a ticket to L.A.
“You won’t have to wait long,” Tony says. “We’re more than halfway home.”
“Are you driving like a maniac?” Ivy’s tone is mildly chiding.
“No. I’m driving like the very sane gentleman I am. See you soon.”
“Love you.” Ivy makes exaggerated kissing noises, then hangs up.
I laugh while Tony grins like he just won the lottery. I adore how much he loves her and how vulnerable he is to her. When I first met him in his office, he was cold and aloof. He’s still that way with a lot of people—most, even—but not Ivy.
It’s just so sweet.
The traffic isn’t too bad, for L.A. Soon enough, we drive past the gates to the mansion.