Eliza Starts a Rumor(42)
“I’ll call you back.”
The only thing worse than being cheated on was not knowing if you were being cheated on. Olivia was sure that she needed to be sure. She straightened herself out and went into the bedroom. Spencer was combing his hair.
“What are you up to today?” he asked, casually.
“The usual nothing much,” she responded, impressed by her normal tone. She sat on the bed and pushed herself back against the pillows as she often did to chat with him when he got ready for work. She grabbed her book from the nightstand, pretending to read it. Spencer slid his pants off his valet. He patted the empty shelf above it where his phone usually sat charging. He looked around the bedroom, at first casually then with a bit more urgency. She followed his eyes to the phone he had walked in with. It was identical to the one in her pocket. Their eyes met on it, each of them oddly aware of the other’s gaze, albeit for different reasons. He lifted up some papers on his desk.
“Looking for something?” she asked, hopefully.
“No, I’m good, thanks,” he responded.
Her chest caught fire—a burning sensation that began in her belly and shot through her heart as if it were in flames. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t keep up the facade for even a second more. In a panic, she reached down to sleeping Lily and pinched her leg, just hard enough to wake her. Lily cried out, instantly filling her with guilt and purpose.
“I have to change the baby,” she uttered as she grabbed Lily and left the room. She stood at the changing table apologizing for the awful thing she had done. Lily calmed and cooed. Olivia reveled in her forgiveness until Spencer’s phone buzzed in her robe pocket.
CHAPTER 24
Amanda
Amanda was actually waiting outside of school when Pippa came out squealing in delight. “I got the part!!!” It was both amazing and surreal, since Amanda had come out squealing through the same door on more than one occasion decades before. She kept the reminiscence to herself, not wanting either to encroach on Pippa’s moment or to see the obligatory eye roll if she did. Mandy was thrilled for Pippa, and more than a little thrilled for herself as well. The first parent volunteer meeting was scheduled for the next day, and Mandy decided to arrive early to pitch “The Bard”—as everyone referred to the teacher who ran the Shakespeare troupe—on why she would make the perfect assistant director. She was over the moon at the thought of being back in a theater.
Stepping into the high school auditorium the next day for the parent meeting was an epic trip down memory lane. Aside from a new curtain and the seats having been reupholstered a strange shade of purple, nothing much had changed. She was flooded with theater club memories of running lines, belting out songs, taking curtain calls, and having her first crush. It wasn’t Curly or Jud she was thinking about while singing “I’m just a girl who cain’t say no” but the dashing high school drama teacher, Mr. Barr. He arrived just days after Amanda had officially sworn off high school boys, and unlike his hundred-year-old predecessor, he had all the girls swooning. But none more than Amanda, who immediately directed all of her teen angst toward her new unrequited love.
He must be long retired from here, she thought.
At that very same moment, as if she’d conjured him, there he was. Mr. Barr. Making his way across the stage with his familiar stride and surprisingly still thick wavy hair.
Even more surprising was her reaction. Her knees wobbled at the sight of him, just as they had decades before. Her first thought was, This is crazy; her second, I have to get the hell out of here. As she turned to do so, his baritone voice echoed through the auditorium.
“Hello, hello. Are you here for the volunteer meeting? You’re a few minutes early. I’m setting up the chairs if you want to start volunteering now!” He laughed. His laugh was familiar, too. He had that theatrical tone to everything that came out of his mouth. She approached the stage, so she wouldn’t need to shout. On the way up, butterflies of excitement danced in her belly. What the hell? she thought. I will just sign up for snacks and be on my way.
He recognized her immediately, shouting, “Amanda Williams?” while springing off the stage to greet her. He threw his arms wide open for what she thought was a setup for a hug but turned out to be a two-handed shoulder embrace—the kind usually followed by the refrain, “My, my, look how you’ve grown!” He still sees me like a kid, she laughed to herself, and at herself. She gave him the once-over right back.
He was older now, of course, with deep lines shooting out from the corners of his blue eyes and streaks of gray now salting his signature locks. It all worked well—really well. Men have it so easy in the aging department, she thought, suddenly self-conscious. He let go of her shoulders, though she wished his hands had lingered there a bit longer.
Sign up for the snacks, Amanda, her brain begged her libido.
“How have you been?” he asked.
“Good, good, and you?”
“Still teaching at Hudson,” he answered in a tone that wandered between pride and indignation.
“That’s just incredible,” Mandy said. “My daughter is Pippa Cole, you cast her as Isabella. Thank you!”
“Oh, wow! I see the resemblance now. She’s talented and a sweet kid, just like her mom.”
Amanda laughed to herself—all that flirting she had done, and he never even noticed. Now on the other end of it, with her daughter under his tutelage, she was happy for his obliviousness.