"There isn't anything I can do about this, is there?" Amanda focused on Leah, hoping the woman's super brain could devise a plan to make everything work out.
Leah rolled the tip of her straw between her fingertips and got that far-off look she'd typically sported when she was puzzling out the answer to a tough school assignment. After a long moment, she shook her head. "I'm sorry. I can't think of anything. In every scenario, Julie is the one who gets hurt."
Amanda sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Exactly."
Leah reached over and touched the back of Amanda's hand. "Unless Tina's just bluffing," Leah said. "Maybe she's just talking out of that perfect ass of hers."
Amanda shook her head. "She isn't bluffing. Tina never bluffs. You know she'd have no problem using Julie as a wedge between Jacob and me. If I hadn't ended it tonight, the situation would have gotten worse, not better. Tina won't back down until it suits her."
What really irked Amanda was how Tina always managed to make everyone take her side. Somehow Tina would twist Amanda's affair with Jacob into something tawdry and cheap. Everything would end up being Amanda's fault when all was said and done. Except Leah. Leah had always been in her corner and Amanda trusted that she always would be.
"How can anyone be so selfish?" Leah fumed.
"She's always gotten everything handed to her, so she thinks whatever she wants is owed to her. Nothing will stop her from taking what she wants. Did I mention that when we were having that brawl in Jacob's driveway, she said that she still loved him?"
Leah's eyes widened. "Shut the front door! Do you think it's true?"
"Of course not. She just doesn't want me or anyone else to have him."
Leah used her straw to stab at the hunk of ice cream at the bottom of her glass. "One of these days this is all going to bite her in the ass."
"God, I hope so. For now I'll bide my time to protect Julie and Jacob, but I'll be looking for an opening. And when I find one, she'll be sorry she ever crossed me."
The bitch better watch her back.
Chapter Seventeen
Shade handed his bag to the copilot, who stuffed it into the near-empty compartment beneath the plane. Shade had assumed he was late and that they were holding the plane for him, but apparently he wasn't the only one getting a late start.
"Please hurry, sir," the copilot said. "We're going to miss our departure time."
Shade climbed the awkward metal steps and ducked his head to enter the small craft. The only one inside was Owen, who offered him a smile and a friendly wave.
"Hey," Shade grumbled as he strode past Owen and took the seat in the far rear corner. He didn't want to chat with Owen. He didn't want to see or talk to anyone until he got his emotions completely in check.
He still wasn't exactly sure what had set Amanda off, but he was too pissed-too hurt-to want to set things straight with her. And he wasn't sure his pain or anger would diminish with time. He'd thought his lack of education-his stupidity-didn't matter to her. Well, apparently he'd been too dumb to recognize her disdain. Last night, he'd replayed every moment of the weekend as he'd stared at the darkened ceiling in Julie's bedroom. Sleeping on the couch had been out of the question-the first time he'd made love to Amanda had been on that couch-and her scent still clung to his own bed, so he'd found no rest there, only heartache. There was comfort in being surrounded by reminders of his daughter who never judged him even as her bitter mother tried to belittle him. But not comfort enough to let him find sleep.
He remembered every time Amanda had faced his struggle to read. Remembered well the look of pity on her face when he'd convinced Julie to give up her bedtime story so he could sing her to sleep. Remembered how she'd automatically read all the signs at the zoo when Julie had a question. That little speech she'd given him in the car about how she couldn't care deeply about an idiot had obviously been true. Maybe it had been the only truth she'd spoken to him all weekend. He kept hearing those words over and over in his head. "I could never care so deeply about an idiot." And the ones she'd said to him at the bar. "Do you really think someone like me would fall for an idiot like you?" Oh yeah? Well, fuck her. He'd gotten this far without having a firm grasp on written language. An illiterate moron could do a lot worse for himself.
Owen rose from the spot he'd chosen up the aisle and flopped himself into the seat across from Shade. "Have a good weekend?" Owen asked as he fastened his seat belt.