“So when can I tell her? One time when I called and she picked up, she hung up on me. I even wrote her a letter, but I haven’t heard back yet.”
“I’ll have to talk to her about hanging up on people. That’s rude.” She paused. “And she hasn’t mentioned a letter. Shall I ask her about that?”
He shook his head. “No, I wrote to her. She has to be the one to answer—on her own—or it won’t mean anything.”
“I agree.” She paused and stopped the swing’s movement. “Marcus, will you do me a favor before I have to leave?”
“Anything.”
“What time is it?”
“A little after eight. You said you had to be home by ten.”
She nodded. “I want us to make love—right now—before I have to go home. I want a memory.”
“Whatever you want.” He picked up her hand and walked with her into the house, afraid to ask why she wanted a memory when all she had to do was say yes, and she could have him for life.
She clung to him as if to a lifeline, and when it was time to leave, her reluctance was obvious.
“Amanda, I want to be more than a memory for you. How can we make that happen?”
“I’ll talk to Cecelia about having you over for dinner. Don’t worry about the letter. You can talk to her then. We’ll both talk to her—together,” she offered. “Maybe that will help.”
“I’ll do anything you say. Maybe we should take her camping. She liked that.” He stroked her cheek. “Or presents. We could pretend it’s Christmas a few months early.”
She gave him a wan smile. “Bribery is never a fitting foundation for friendship or love. My father told me that once,” she replied.
He nodded.“Then I guess I’ll just have to wait until you tell me she doesn’t think I’m a terrible person.” He smiled and kissed her one last time before her car eased out of the driveway.
But would Amanda’s words have the desired effect on Cecelia?
Chapter 16
Marcus walked into the gym, decorated for the special Labor Day gathering, an event the president of the college instituted to encourage faculty camaraderie.The band was already playing. In one corner, long tables were laden with food. Several faculty members and their spouses were seated at the round tables nearby, conversing, laughing. He waved to his friends in the journalism department.
Marcus scanned the room and was reminded of a public meat market, the older faculty checking out the new ones, and vice versa. Knowing she supported consensus-building, he expected Amanda to make an appearance. What surprised him when he entered the room was the proprietary way Evan Workman was holding her as he spun her on the dance floor.
Other faculty sat around the edges of the large room or stood in clusters talking and laughing. Several other couples were also dancing, but most followed the action of the tall golden-haired man and the beautiful English professor in his arms. Marcus frowned as he picked up a wine glass.
“Looks like a good crowd, don’t you think?” Ian Berriman asked.
“I guess. How long have you been here?” Marcus glanced at the muscular history professor.
“I never miss a party or free drinks. Rebecca and I got here when it started. But the action didn’t get lively until Evan the Magnificent showed up.”
Marcus grimaced. “He seems to have taken over, hasn’t he?” In more ways than one. The man seemed to have plastered his hand to Amanda’s back as they exited the dance floor and approached a table displaying canapés and other finger foods.
“I’ll say. Towering over the rest of us peons helps. If you ask me, he’s looking to see who among the faculty he can haul into bed. One of my frat brothers finished his doctorate at Iowa last year. He said the guy had a reputation as a swordsman. Seems he and one of the senior faculty in physics were going at it when her ex showed up. Only thing that saved Workman’s ass was the fact that the guy was an ex—and the physics prof threatened to slice him up and feed him to her pet piranhas if he didn’t leave.”
Marcus laughed. “Why did her ex show up in the first place?” He watched Amanda strolling among the clusters of people around the food table.
“Word has it they still enjoyed getting it on after the divorce, although after Evan moved in on her, word was she decided she liked fresh meat better.”
Ian looked at Marcus. “I thought you and Amanda were close. I heard about the workshop you two pulled off last month. Maybe Workman will want to do that with you next year, with his background—those novels and all.”
“Maybe.” Marcus placed some crackers and cheese on a plate. Over my dead body.