Waiting for a Girl Like You (23 page)

“Where are we going?”

“My hotel.”

“I need to talk to Carla.”

Right now? “I figured you’d need a break between her and that scene in the office.”

“No.” Alex folded her hands in her lap. “I need to get this over with, and I want to tell her before Roger does.”

“You think he will?”

“He’s going to have to come up with some reason for this morning’s summoning by the dean.”

“How would she know about it?”

Alex rolled her eyes. “Genesis called Roger’s house yesterday and left a message.”

Hadn’t she exacted a promise from Genesis and Jeremy to not say a word? How reliable was that going to be? “She didn’t—”

“No, but she did say that Dr. Meyer wanted to see Roger first thing in the morning. Roger said that he and Carla got into a fight about it last night. That’s how he ended up sleeping in his car.”

Somewhere in the area a woman was coping with the fresh news that her husband had been cheating on her. Not good. “Tell me where to go.”

Alex was stiff and quiet, only speaking to tell him where to turn. This was too much for her to cope with. The shit that fucker Roger put her through had been enough, but add this other bizarre wrinkle with the dead girl and the other cheating professor, and it was elevated beyond the average. Rock stars were supposed to be wild, and these people were putting Touchstone’s party days to shame. When they were crazy, they’d had Sandy’s very firm hand keeping them out of trouble, even if it meant threatening to quit managing the band, and they’d had each other to share the weight. He glanced at Alex, staring out the windshield and obviously not seeing the tree-lined street. Roger’s wife deserved to know, but was it fair to make Alex do it face to face? She was young, and she made a mistake, but being the whistleblower had to be punishment enough. Just because he wished somebody had told him about Dez didn’t mean he had the right to force Alex into total disclosure. It was pretty brutal. Roger’s wife was dealing with the truth, but his first priority had to be Alex. “Honey, you don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do.”

He reached across the seat and tried to take her hand, but her fingers were so tightly laced together that he couldn’t separate them, so he settled for resting his hand on her thigh. “There are other ways than telling her in person.”

“But this is the right way. I was sleeping with her husband for three years. I need to apologize.”

Three years? Three
years
? Marc swallowed his shock. The amount of time didn’t matter as much as the fact that she’d ended it. Still, three years? “I understand the desire, but this is a much bigger can of worms than either of us anticipated.”

“That’s a cliché.”

“What is?”

“Can of worms. Turn left at the next intersection.”

“It’s an appropriate cliché. If you really have to tell Carla, let it go a day.”

“By then Roger will have sold her on whatever lie he’s cooked up to cover this.”

“Whether she believes you or not isn’t the point. All you need to do is tell the truth, and you could do that in an e-mail.”

“There’s a VCS rental truck in Roger’s driveway.”

There was a truck with a familiar logo backed across the lawn to the porch of a brick house on the right. The front tires were sinking into a flowerbed of bright pink and white flowers along the driveway, but the rear tires were on the concrete walk so the truck wasn’t stuck. He pulled into the driveway. Alex jumped out before he got the car in park.

“Carla?” She climbed the steps to the porch, but hesitated at the corner of the truck. “Carla?”

Marc bounded up the steps behind her. Who knew what this woman might do or be doing with a truck in the middle of her yard?

“Alex, is that you?” A petite reddish blonde came out of the kitchen, blowing her nose. “You heard?”

“Heard?”

“Roger was having an affair.” Carla sobbed and wiped her W. C. Fields red nose again. “My family was right. They told me not to marry him. They told me if he’d cheat once, he’d cheat again, but Diana Gregor? We had dinner with her and her husband. We all went to Disney World together last summer.” Carla threw her hands up in the air. “I was probably babysitting her girls when she was screwing my husband. They were probably necking in the It’s a Small World ride while we were in the boat in front with the kids.”

“That’s pretty unlikely,” Marc muttered. Alex elbowed him.

“So you’re leaving?” Alex asked.

Carla sunk down on a camel back sofa facing the fireplace, and Alex sat next to her. Marc leaned on the arm of a chair so he could dive in and pull the two women apart if he had to. Hell having no fury like a scorned woman and all. “We were out to dinner last night, and when we came home the sitter gave us a message from Dr. Meyer. He wanted Roger in his office first thing this morning on some allegations of plagiarism and impropriety. Plagiarism? Can you believe it? I asked Roger, and he had to confess.” Carla wiped her nose again. “I just don’t understand. I tried to be everything Vanessa wasn’t.”

“Vanessa?” Marc bit his tongue, but it was already out. Alex glared at him.

“Vanessa was his first wife,” Carla said. “He was my freshman lit teacher, and he was so witty and charming. Vanessa was cruel, and she lied to him all the time. She promised him they would have kids as soon as she finished her doctorate, but then told him children would get in the way of her career. He so wanted a family.” Carla’s expression hardened. “Well, it’s going to be a cold day in hell before he sees my children again.” She got up and stormed into the kitchen. Alex stood to follow, but Marc stopped her.

“Wait, let me get this straight. Roger was married and cheated on his wife with Carla when she was in freshman English. Then he divorced wife one to marry Carla and started having an affair with you.”

“Oh, what a tangled web we weave when we screw around with undergrads?” Alex shrugged and followed Carla into the kitchen.

“I’m keeping the dishes,” Carla announced. “He can eat off paper plates for all I care. Can you help me wrap them? Or maybe I should smash the whole set in the driveway. What do you think?”

Marc positioned himself in the kitchen doorway, wondering where the knives were. Alex had been safer in the living room.

“I think…” Alex glanced at him. “I think I need to tell you something first.”

Carla set down the plate in her hands. “Tell me it’s not more bad news.”

“Roger wasn’t having an affair with Diana. He was having an affair with me.”

Dear Lord, three women at the same time. If Roger wasn’t such a creep, Marc thought he might admire the man. Why couldn’t he have been juggling three careers at the same time? That would have been cool.

Carla blinked. “No, he was having an affair with Diana. He showed me the hotel receipts. That asshole had a credit card I didn’t know about that he used for his illicit relationship.”

“Where are your kids?” Marc asked. He should have thought of the kids before. They didn’t need to hear this.

“Teri Lewiston has them while I pack.” Carla waved toward the front of the house.

“Carla, I was having an affair with Roger,” Alex repeated.

“It’s very sweet of you to try to make me feel better, but it was Diana. I have proof. I printed out the history on that credit card. He’s not getting a dime from me.”

“A dime from you?” Marc asked.

“Daddy owns VCS.”

“We used VCS on the first tour.” Marc looked out the window. He remembered those huge rented semis packed with equipment on the road with them for thirteen months. That was why the logo was so familiar. “I didn’t know they did little trucks, too.”

“Trucks and drivers in all sizes.”

“Carla,” Alex said.

Marc grabbed her arm and yanked her out to the living room. “Let it go,” he hissed.

“I have to tell her. It was me, not Diana.”

“Apparently, it was both of you, and you did tell her. She just didn’t believe you.”

“She has to believe me.”

“No, she doesn’t. You told her. Your obligation is fulfilled. She can’t handle the idea that her husband, who she got second hand from some other chick, was cheating on her with two other women.”

“But he wasn’t cheating with Diana, he was cheating with me.”

“Did he take you to that hotel?”

“No, it was always in his office.”

“Voila. He was cheating on his wife with you and cheating on you with this third—fourth woman. I’m starting to lose count.”

Something shattered in the kitchen. Carla cursed and started to sob.

“But—”

“No, you need to trust me on this.” Just like Carla didn’t need the truth shoved down her throat, Alex didn’t need to understand her beloved literature professor was nothing more than an alley cat looking to score with as many women as he could. It had been said, even if it didn’t register. Like Helen had told him, there was no point in causing needless pain in the name of truth. “Let’s just help her pack her shit and get out of here. Carla, should we just call some movers?” He went back into the kitchen.

Carla was taking dirty dishes out of the dishwasher and wrapping them in newspaper.

Marc lifted a marinara sauce covered plate out of her hands. “Let’s run the washer before we pack these, hmm? We could call movers to load the van for you.”

“Movers.” Carla pressed the back of her wrist to her forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that? I’ll call the office. They’ll send someone.”

“And maybe another truck. It would be nice for Roger to come home to a house furnished with nothing but cobwebs.” He started unwrapping the dirty dishes and loading the dishwasher.

* * * *

Alex walked into the hotel room and sat down on the foot of the bed. Seven hours spent helping Carla pack while a team of burly men and women loaded furniture and boxes into four trucks. Roger was left with a broken lawn chair and half a pair of chopsticks.

“Those guys were a trip.” Marc closed the door. “It was like they took this personally. Her dad must be a great boss. I caught that guy Rosco upstairs unscrewing all the light bulbs, and Daisy with the Goth black hair wrapped up the soap from the bathrooms. Next time I have to move out on a woman, remind me to call them.”

“Let’s hope there isn’t a next time.” Alex should have had some kind of reaction to his comment, but she was too numb.

“Sorry, babe. That was a stupid thing to say.” He sat down next to her and put his arm over her shoulders so she leaned her head on him.

Marc had taken the whole thing personally, too. It had been his suggestion to leave the broken lawn chair in the middle of the living room. Roger had not returned to the house before they left. Someone must have warned him to stay away.

“You okay?” Marc asked.

“No.”

“How can I fix it?”

“You can’t. I just don’t know what to think, and all the decisions have been taken out of my hands.” She blinked and her eyes burned, either from anguish or dust. It didn’t matter. Both options would produce tears, and she still wouldn’t have any control.

“Did you eat any of the pizza I ordered around lunchtime? It’s going on dinner now, anyway. I’ll order room service.” He stood up.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You should eat.”

“I don’t want anything.”

He knelt on the floor in front of her. “Alex, honey, I’ve been where you are. I’ve listened to my own footsteps because there weren’t any footsteps with mine. I’ve said I can’t do this anymore, but stayed because I didn’t have anywhere to go. You aren’t trapped. You have options.”

“I’m not upset about losing Roger.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Smartass. “But I have to work alongside him for the next year, at least while I finish my master’s.”

“I thought he wasn’t your advisor anymore.”

“He’s not, but he’s going to be there. He’s tenured.”

“So transfer to another school. You have to be able to finish this thing somewhere else.”

“I have to stay here.”

“Why?”

“I promised the dean.”

“I think he’d understand. What do you want to do?”

“I can’t do what I want to do.”

“Hey, you’re riding with me now, and I’m a goddamn skylight.” He grinned.

Laughter bubbled through her chest, almost painful. Every muscle in her body ached.

Marc picked her up and carried her to the head of the bed where he cuddled around her. “In a perfect world, what would you want?”

“For dinner?”

“For the rest of your life.”

Alex bit her lip. She’d spent so long jumping from one terrible choice to another like they were rocks across a river that to have anything possible made her a little queasy. “I’m so close. I’d like to finish my master’s, and I’m committed to another year in the dorm.”

“Is that what you want or what you feel like you have to do?”

Alex closed her eyes. How the hell was she supposed to know? She thought that’s what she wanted. That was going to have to be good enough for now. “It’s what I want.”

“Okay, for the next year, you will live in your dorm and I’ll get a place in town.”

“You don’t have to go to work or anything?”

“My buddy’s wife is having a baby so he won’t be going anywhere until a couple of months after the kid is born. We might be recording in West Virginia next summer, but not before, and I could drive between here and there. Shep and I should be able to do most of his solo album through e-mail. If not, it might be a couple of days here and there, but I want to spend as much time as possible with you. So you’ll get your degree, and we’ll go to Italy next summer.”

“It never occurs to you that I might not want you here.”

“No. Don’t you?”

“I do, but I’ve never met anyone quiet so confident before.”

“Welcome to a brave new world, sugar.” He nuzzled her neck. “What about marriage? Is that something you want?” His arms tightened around her.

She had never planned and replanned her wedding, but Marc she could trust to be there forevermore. “It is, but when are we going to fit it in?”

“After the school year ends and before Italy.”

How could he sound so nonchalant about it? “I can’t plan a wedding while writing and preparing to defend my thesis. I don’t even know what I want.”