Not My Romeo (The Game Changers #1)(49)

But he’s been back to Daisy. I heard all about it at the Cut ’N’ Curl yesterday when I popped in to get Sun Drops for me and Topher.

Why, he’s just the sweetest man. Polite and gracious! He signed over three hundred footballs for all the kids at the elementary school! Little Timmy right next to him. Such a handsome fellow! That came from Birdie Walker, the school secretary. She was getting her roots touched up by Aunt Clara, who met my gaze in the mirror and grinned like a loon.

I just rolled my eyes and sat down in a chair, pretending to read a magazine, and listened.

Every student and teacher got to meet him one on one with Timmy and Laura! It took almost all day!

Oh, so Laura was there. Nice. Why don’t they just get married?

I hear Ms. Clark even slipped him her phone number! I wonder if he’ll call! She’s so pretty. He looked interested!

That was it. I groaned and maybe glared a little at the mouthy secretary. Ms. Clark is barely twenty-two and gives everyone her number. She’s also his type.

Whatever.

I flounced off from the Cut ’N’ Curl, part of me . . . annoyed that he hasn’t tried to find me.

Is that crazy?

But he was in Daisy and didn’t even come by the library. It’s right across from the church! If he was so gung ho about me, then why not try harder? Where’s that competitive nature of his?

But . . .

It’s over between the football player and me.

I wadded up that NDA and almost tossed it in his face.

I walked out.

And he didn’t follow.

Right.

Aunt Clara appears like magic next to Preston and Giselle, her eyes darting to the library windows, but the windows are tinted for the sun, and anyone looking in can’t see me and Topher.

Because if they could see our dagger eyes, they’d run.

“They’ll be here in a minute.” I head to the front desk and position myself behind it. Thankfully, it’s noon, and the place is quiet, with only a few patrons here—some at tables, some at the computers for the free internet. I pat down my hair, tamed and up in a french twist. I fix my glasses and reapply my red lipstick quickly, squaring my shoulders.

The three of them walk in, gazing around at the space. It’s an old building, but it’s beautiful, completely renovated since I took over—pristine, shiny tile flooring and new crisp-white shelves. The walls are a cool gray, the artwork from talented students at the high school, drawings of historic buildings in Daisy. Even the church is on the wall. To the right is a carpeted kids’ area, complete with toys, puzzles, and puppets for story time.

Giselle’s eyes glance over everything, but I doubt she really sees it. Her brain doesn’t work that way. She’s all about facts and equations.

Preston meets my gaze, his brown eyes searching my face, and I . . . I feel absolutely nothing.

He takes in Topher’s glare, pauses, and walks over to a shelf and pretends to look at the audiobooks. Pussy.

“Can we talk?” Giselle asks, an uneasy smile on her face as she reaches the desk. She’s wearing cream slacks and a soft blue blouse. If I squint a little, she’s almost Mama.

“Sure,” I say brightly. “I’ve been waiting to see that ring! It’s all everyone is talking about!”

I can do this!

Aunt Clara comes around the desk like she does it every day—she doesn’t—and aligns herself next to me. Giselle grimaces, moving her eyes from me to Clara.

“Alone?” Giselle asks.

Aunt Clara frowns.

“It’s fine,” I tell Aunt Clara, still smiling. “Giselle and I have barely had a minute alone since she got back and started dating Preston! Why, I can’t wait to hear how things are. Weddings are so exciting!”

I mean the words to be as real as possible, but when she winces, I know I struck a nerve. Maybe I need to tone down the peppiness.

Aunt Clara pats me on the arm. “I’ll go check out the romance. Got any hot-vampire books? I want full-on sex scenes.”

I nod. “Sure do. J. R. Ward. Read the whole collection. You’ll love it.”

She gives me a final look and heads to the shelves.

Giselle stands stiffly, looking uncomfortable. “Elena. I’m sorry.”

Plain and simple.

It’s what I expected.

She’s a direct person.

“For what? Stealing my boyfriend or the engagement?”

Her face flushes. “I know we haven’t really talked about everything, and thank you for never telling Mama that. I didn’t tell her about seeing you with that football player. I keep secrets, too, Elena.”

I recall the day when I caught them kissing in his office. It was mid-July and scorching hot when I walked from the library to his office on my lunch break. My head churned with how our relationship was floundering. Between Topher living with me and the lingerie—things weren’t right between us.

I expected to find him behind his desk, working, excited to see me bringing his favorite club sandwich from the Piggly Wiggly deli, only she was in his arms. My first reaction was shock, and I gaped at them in disbelief. Then hurt slammed into me. Then anger roared to the surface, and I yelled at them and slammed down his food, splattering ham and cheese and tomato all over his desk, and stormed out. I marched right over to the Cut ’N’ Curl, fists curled, ready to tell my family what they’d done, especially Mama. I fumed with glee, picturing Giselle falling off her pedestal.