Michael is that blond-ish guy form one episode in season 7, Victoria's associate or something played by Simon Arblaster (if anyone's interested). Let's pretend that Ivy's sister is the Anastasia from Once upon a time in Wonderland. It fits better within the context of the story.

Ivy was a morning person. She liked to get up earlier, turn on KEXP radio, get ready for work, then spend couple of minutes scrolling through her Instagram feed and enjoying a cup of black tea in silence. Her boyfriend, on the other hand, was not. It was 8.15 already and he still hasn't gone to work. In the days of being her mother's assistant, Ivy was in the office at 7.30 sharp, only her and the doorman. Now, working on her first solo project, she was due at the site at 9. Truthfully, she didn't really like when he would stay the night.

"I'm almost ready." she heard his voice from the bathroom, "Did you turn it on?"

"I did."

"Did you push it?"

"The coffee's ready, Michael." she shouted. She didn't like this shouting; it made her feel some they were some rednecks on a farm.

"I am so late." he ran into the kitchen looking for coffee. "'Random House' fired Tillman. Thank God, I don't have to see his stupid face ever again." he took a sip and run back for his briefcase, "Malcolm got his job so he's gonna be insufferable. Don't forget tonight, PEN dinner."

"I'm invited to that?" she never got the invite before.

"You're my girlfriend." he kissed her, "Of course you are. Got to run."

So she wasn't invited after all. Her mother and Anastasia definitively got their invites. Jacinda was probably still getting hers as well, despite the fact she hadn't been a part of that world for nearly a decade. She wished she was invited as Ivy Belfrey, not as Michael Griffiths' plus one. She wanted to sit there with all those boring, snooty people and support whatever the cause of the day was.

But at the moment, that didn't bother her much because she was finally alone and she could finally check her e-mail and hopefully see a reply from TruestBeliever.

She logged onto her account. There it was, the reply, 23 minutes ago.

'I like to start my notes to you as if we're already in the middle of a conversation. I pretend that we're the oldest and dearest friends - as opposed to what we actually are, people who don't know each other's names and met on a dating site where we both claimed we'd never been before.

What will SeattleGirl67 say today, Patch and I wonder. Patch is my dog. He loves Seattle as much as I do – although he likes to chase ducks around Volunteer Park, and I prefer to feed them. He is a really bad catcher and instead of playing for the Seattle Mariners, he spends his days sleeping on a large blue pillow the size of an inner tube.

Anyway, I turn on my computer, I wait impatiently as it boots up. As I log into my account, I hold my breath until I see that I've got mail. In that moment I hear nothing, not even a sound on the streets of Seattle, just the beat of my own heart. I have mail. From you.'

Ivy rushed down the streets, past the flower shops, a sushi restaurant and markets. She just waved at Beatrice, no time for stopping because she might have spent too much time rereading the mail.

She entered her three-storey building. She liked to call it hers since this was where she would open the first major 'Belfrey Books' store.

She was greeted by her sister who would come from time to time to help and see how things were going. She had managed her share of solo projects before and was now working solely on her own wedding. "The electrical contractor called, his truck hit a deer last night. So, he'll be here tomorrow."

"Mhm." he thought of her as oldest and dearest friend. She supposed they were friends of sort. She had shared with him the little quirks that nobody had ever seen.

"Upstairs shelves are late because the pine you ordered has beetles."

"Good, that's very good."

"And a 50.000 dollar ticket just arrived because a construction worker was peeing off the roof. I left the honor of firing him to you, of course."

"Great." she looked around, nobody was working inside, "Where is the electrician?"

"I just told you he hit a deer. I knew you weren't listening."

"You're right." she laughed, "'I hear nothing, not even a sound on the streets of Seattle, just the beat of my own heart.' I think that's how it goes."

"Oh, no." Anastasia flopped on a nearby chair, "It's happening."

"What is?"

"Your head is in the clouds, you're not being a control freak… did the David Beckham lookalike asked you to move in or something?"

"Move in with Michael? Are you crazy?"

"I thought you liked him."

"I do, of course I do. Michael is amazing, he's hot, successful, he scored very high on my check list." she really didn't want to talk about Michael. She should get her mind back on the business, "We should announce ourselves to the neighborhood. Let them know we're coming."

"This is Hyperion Heights. You might as well tell them you're opening a crack house."

"Oh, you're right. They are going to hate us, our big bad chain store and cheap books." Ivy halted. It finally hit her. Yes, it all made sense now, "Mother wants me to fail."

"Don't be dramatic."

"She gave me a bookstore, Anastasia. Do you know who reads paper books in 21st century?"

"You'll do well." her sister deflected the question, "And mother will be proud."

"Sure she will – all I have to do is beat Amazon and Kindle and do that in this dying neighborhood."

"I thought you said Hyperion Heights is charming."

"It is, just not for business." maybe she should cash in her trust fund, run off somewhere and live her life as a simple cashier. Jacinda didn't seem to mind that sort of life.

Her sister faced her, "No. Don't go there. Remember what we talked about."

"We're going to seduce them with our style, cozy reading nooks, discounts..." she recited half-heartedly.

"And?" Anastasia grinned.

"And our cappuccino." her lips twitched upwards. Her phone beeped, "Got to go." she waved her sister.

She didn't need to explain further, Anastasia knew exactly what that nervous, hurried pace implied.

The Belfrey tower was a thing of marvel, the tallest building in the city. She felt less stressed out being her mother's assistant then now that she had to answer to her about the project.

"Construction is going without a glitch. We should open on time." fake it until you make it.

"You will open on time." her mother corrected as she watched the city stretch in front of her.

"Of course. Cheap books and legal addictive stimulants is a winning combination." she put on that fake smile she hated, "Although, I am a little concerned about the neighborhood response. This new sofa's confortable. What's the name of the material?"

"Money. Anastasia and Hans ordered one for their new house as well." her mother resented any form of small talk, "What is the status on 'City Books' on 6th?"

"It's going under." one real, good news at least, "We are going to buy their whole inventory on architecture and Seattle history. It's quite an impressive collection from what I've seen so far."

"How much are we paying?"

Less than the hideous sofa, she presumed, "Everything's half off. You can see it in the report."

"Another independent bites the dust. Good."

She didn't want to miss her mother's mildly good mood, "And we will have a section dedicated to the Seattle writers. To appease the crowd."

"Yes, you have to keep those liberal, pseudo-intellectuals-"

"Readers. They like to be called readers."

"Don't romanticize the business, Ivy. That is how you fail. Now, who's left?"

"There's one called 'Olympus Books', but that is more or less taken care of. And some little store on the corner of 5th and Washington, children's bookstore – 'The Enchanted Forest'. It's been there forever. A woman Belle French used to run it. I think her grandson is the official owner now."

Victoria scoffed, "Fascinating story. Take him down."

Thanks to all who read the story. Reviews are appreciated. Or just hit me up to chat about the show.