The Golden Couple(42)
But then Tina had been killed and the whole world seemed to turn upside down. It didn’t take long for their high school English teacher to be arrested—everyone agreed, after the fact, that he’d always been creepy—and afterward, the connection Marissa had felt seemed to evaporate. “If Matthew finds out, it will kill him.” Marissa can hardly bear to say the words aloud. “I’m not hiding it just to save my marriage. It’s to protect Matthew. How could he ever recover from that?”
A screeching noise erupts, and both women whirl around in time to see a small brown car narrowly avoid rear-ending a delivery van.
“This circle is a nightmare,” Avery observes. “Accidents happen here all the time.”
Marissa reaches for the arm of a bench and eases herself down. She’s so light-headed she could faint. Avery knows everything now, and there’s no predicting what she’ll do. She could call Matthew at this very moment and blurt it out.
Matthew wouldn’t come home tonight, or ever again. He’d divorce her; Marissa feels certain of that.
“Here’s what we’ll do,” Avery finally says, and Marissa holds her breath. “You can keep this one secret for now, but this”—Avery points to the note still in Marissa’s hand—“has to stop. Tell him you need to see him.”
“Won’t that only encourage him?”
“It will be a brief meeting. He’ll get the message loud and clear.”
Marissa briefly closes her eyes as her body sags in relief. “Thank you.”
“Text him now. One line: Can we meet today?”
Marissa pulls her phone from her purse and types the message.
Almost immediately, three dots appear on her screen. “He’s texting back.”
She waits, holding her breath, then reads the reply: I’m in L.A. all week. How’s Friday night or anytime over the weekend? I’ll clear my schedule.
“Clear my schedule,” Avery repeats, shaking her head. “He really does have it bad for you. Obviously you’re not going to meet him over the weekend because you’ll be focused on your husband. Text him back and tell him you’ll see him at noon on Monday at the coffee shop down the street from your store.”
Marissa frowns, her hand hovering over her phone.
“What?” Avery prompts.
“It’s just that he’s in California … but I guess he must’ve pushed that note under my door before he left.”
“Probably on his way to the airport early this morning.”
“Noon on Monday at Java Nation,” Marissa repeats as she types the message. The appointment feels like both a reprieve—because it’s almost a full week away—and a punishment.
“Between now and then, do not reply to any texts he sends. Do not answer the phone if he calls.”
Marissa nods.
“Put him completely out of your mind. And let me know if he does try to contact you.”
“But what am I going to say when I see him?”
“That’s what you’ve hired me for.”
* * *
Marissa has barely stepped inside Coco when Polly rushes to her side, bombarding her with rapid-fire questions: “Who would have left that note?… Should we keep the door locked during the day?… Do you think it’s safe for me to sleep here?”
Marissa massages her temples. “I have no idea.… I don’t think it’s necessary.… That’s up to you.…”
“It was the craziest thing!” Polly puts a hand to her chest as Marissa begins to walk away. “I heard the buzzer, and even though it was a little early, I went to open the door. Right after I saw Matthew through the glass, I noticed the piece of paper. Matthew almost stepped on it when I let him in.”
The anonymous note is clearly the most exciting thing that has happened to Polly in a while. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are bright.
The throbbing in Marissa’s head worsens.
“I put Matthew’s flowers in a vase,” Polly calls unnecessarily, as Marissa has already hurried into the back room and spotted the roses.
Their sickly sweet smell permeates the small area. Marissa appreciates Matthew’s gesture, but the flowers look a little wilted and brown around the edges. They’re not nearly as lush as the bouquet she received just a few days ago.
Her hand shakes as she uses a box cutter to slice open UPS packages and takes out cotton sweaters that just arrived from Santa Monica. She’d ordered them weeks ago, thinking their bright stripes would be perfect for spring. But now the jaunty colors seem garish, and she wonders if her judgment is off.
“Do you want some tea?”
Marissa starts at the sound of Polly’s voice. “I’m fine.” Marissa doesn’t glance up. Why can’t Polly take a hint?
Marissa’s phone pings and she snatches it out of her purse. She’d texted Matthew as she retraced her steps from the Chevy Chase Circle back to Coco: Hope your day goes well.… I love you.
It’s just an email from Natalie. In the hour or so since the conclusion of this morning’s auction meeting, Natalie has already sent along the minutes and created a spreadsheet with action tasks assigned to each committee member. Marissa is supposed to ask her vendors to donate additional goods for the event, even though the school already has more than 150 pieces for the silent bidding.