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  “And like I said the other day, you need to leave me alone.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Come on, Marta, you know why.” He stepped closer and took her hands in his. “I had to see you. I can’t get you out of my mind.”

  Marta pulled her hands free and glanced around to see if anyone had noticed. She feared the intensity of Todd’s gaze and the low, hushed tone of his words might garner attention. “You have to stop this. It can’t go on.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

  As a wave of panic exploded inside her, Lucy Summers, the humane society director, walked over to them. She was short and plump and a bundle of energy. “Thanks so much, Marta. You did a great job getting the word out.”

  Standing possessively close to her side, Todd said, “She did, didn’t she? But then, that’s not surprising. Marta’s a pretty amazing woman.”

  Lucy offered her hand. “Hi, I’m Lucy Summers. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

  “Todd Wilson, an old friend of Marta’s.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Todd. I hope you’ll be a friend of our shelter as well. We need all the friends and support we can get.”

  “I’m with you,” he said.

  When Lucy moved on, he took Marta’s elbow. “Let’s go someplace where we can talk.”

  She pulled away. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “Oh, but there is.”

  A group of volunteers passed by, calling out a greeting. Marta had no interest in talking to Todd, but neither did she want their disagreement to play out in public. “Okay, let’s take a walk,” she said.

  He led her to a path along the creek. They walked in silence for a while, Todd whistling lightly under his breath. The cool air was tempered by a clear sky and bright sunshine. Marta could feel the hint of real warmth from the sun’s rays on her back.

  “What a gorgeous day,” he said finally, echoing her own thoughts. “Don’t you just love the first signs of spring?”

  “Todd, what’s going on? You know I’m married. You know I’m not interested in any sort of relationship with you. I’m sorry if I misled you. I really am. I know you’ve had a rough life recently, with . . . with losing your wife and all. But I’m not the answer to your problems.”

  “I think you are.”

  “But if I’m not interested—”

  “You haven’t given me a chance, Marta.”

  God, he was exasperating. How could you convince someone who didn’t listen? “You must have friends,” she said. “There have to be plenty of women who would jump at the chance to know you better.”

  “Not really. I sort of cut myself off from people after what happened.”

  “Then go out and find people who share your interests. Go meet new women.” She sounded like Dear Abby. “It makes absolutely no sense to keep coming after me.”

  Todd stopped and turned to face her. He picked up her hand and lightly tickled the flesh of her palm with his fingers. Marta tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let go.

  “Why are you so afraid to be yourself?” he asked. “To listen to your heart?”

  Marta shook her head. “You’ve got it all wrong. Seriously wrong.”

  Todd leaned closer and kissed her, softly at first, then more passionately. She struggled to push him away. Todd put his hand on her chin and looked her in the eyes. “There’s a woman inside you, Marta. A wild, passionate, wonderful woman, and I’m in love with her.”

  A cloud passed in front of the sun, and Marta felt a shiver. Or maybe it was the L-word that got to her. “No, Todd,” she said. “You can’t be. You don’t even know her.”

  “Neither,” he said, “do you.”

  Chapter 14

  Gordon was on his way to the library when Alan Warner, the history department chairman, hailed him.

  “Hold up,” he called out from his office. “I’ll walk with you.”

  Gordon stopped and hovered self-consciously in the hallway while Alan grabbed a jacket and locked his office door. He was in his mid-fifties, balding with a bit of a paunch. Gordon liked him well enough, although they had little in common and rarely talked outside of department meetings. The postponement of Gordon’s tenure vote had further strained what was already a rather tenuous relationship.

  “I’m on my way to the library,” Gordon volunteered, because he felt the need to say something congenial.

  “Good, good. I won’t keep you.”

  “I didn’t mean I was in a hurry.”

  “No, of course not.” Alan punched the button to summon the elevator even though they were only on the second floor. Gordon usually took the stairs. “Say, any word on that paper you submitted for presentation at the History and Humanities conference?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes. It looks encouraging.”

  “That’s wonderful. I heard some favorable feedback on it indirectly.”

  Gordon would have liked to press Alan for details but suspected that would be bad form. “That’s good to hear.”

  “It would certainly be another check on the plus side when your tenure vote comes up,” Alan noted.

  They stepped outside. Alan pulled a pair of sunglasses from his pocket and slipped them on. Gordon, who hadn’t yet replaced the pair he’d broken several weeks ago, squinted into the bright sunshine.

  A voice called out from his left. “Hey, Gordon! I was just thinking about you.”

  Shielding his eyes from the glare, Gordon glanced in the direction of the voice. “Todd,” he said in surprise. He was pleased to have a chance to atone for Marta’s rudeness the other night. “I never expected to see you here.”

  “I won’t keep you,” Alan said. He headed off to the parking garage but not without a farewell pat on Gordon’s back. “Good luck with that paper. I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re writing a paper?” Todd asked.

  “It’s one I’ve finished. Now I’m revising and waiting to see if it’s accepted. What are you doing on campus?”

  “Just thought I’d check it out. You know, part of getting to know the community. Plus, I’ve always liked college campuses. I once even envisioned myself as a professor.”

  “Why didn’t you follow through?”

  “Too much work. And to tell the truth, I don’t think I’m smart enough. You, on the other hand, must have the smarts as well as the drive.”

  In Gordon’s case, the decision to teach had more to do with inertia than drive, but he didn’t bother to elaborate.

  “Want to grab a bite to eat?” Todd asked. “It’s almost lunch time.”

  Gordon usually brought lunch from home and ate at his desk, to save both money and the aggravation of small talk. In fact, there was a soggy tuna sandwich waiting for him in a desk drawer. It was suddenly entirely unappealing.

  “Sure, there’s a food court across the quad.” Gordon led the way, dodging the steady flow of students on bikes and skateboards, as well as those lost in their cell phones. “So what was your field?”

  “Field?”

  “You said you’d once envisioned academic life.”

  “I majored in sociology, but minored in partying. Or maybe it was the other way around.” Todd laughed. “Not a good combination in any case. The academic idea was mostly a fantasy. You know, only a couple hours of work a day, long summer vacations, an occasional sabbatical. Not to mention all those cute coeds hanging on your every word.”

  “That’s a fantasy, all right.” Gordon couldn’t tell if Todd was joking.

  “It’s not like that?”

  “Not at all. More like low pay, long hours, and no respect from the students.”

  “Guess I lucked out then.” Todd pumped his hand in the air and grinned. “You don’t sound happy. Why not try something else?”

  “I’m not sure what I’d do.” Gordon had, on occasion, considered leaving academia, but it was mostly an idle
thought. He had no idea what he’d do instead, or where to start. There wasn’t much call for history majors in the business or tech worlds. And to tell the truth, the idea scared him. Academia was the only world he knew.

  “How about you?” he asked. “What do you do for a living?” Gordon realized they hadn’t covered much personal territory the other day.

  “Consulting mostly. We’re headquartered in Chicago but I’m on the road as much as I’m there.”

  “What kind of consulting?”

  “Oh, you know, financial matters.”

  Gordon didn’t have any idea what that meant. It was one of the reasons he knew he wasn’t cut out for a career in business. “So why are you looking to move to Sterling?”

  “It seems like a nice town and I’m getting fed up with the snow and cold.” They’d reached the food court and Todd was studying the options for lunch. “What’s good?” he asked.

  Gordon laughed. “Nothing, really. The burgers aren’t too bad but they’re heavy. The pizza’s not bad, either.”

  They opted to share a pepperoni pizza, and Todd insisted on paying for them both. “Low pay and long hours, remember?”

  Gordon tried to protest. He’d been making a point, not pleading poverty. But Todd brushed his concerns aside. “I’ll put it on the expense account.”

  Expense account. Wouldn’t that be something? Gordon had a fleeting vision of working in a job where he’d have a similar perk. But it would never happen. If he wasn’t in academics, he’d probably be stuck in a cubicle working for the big guys who did have expense accounts.

  “Thanks,” he said

  The pizza was worse than Gordon remembered, but Todd didn’t seem to mind. He devoured two pieces while they talked sports, movies, weather, and about Todd’s love of sailing and Gordon’s fear of the water. The conversation flowed easily, which surprised Gordon since he’d always had trouble making small talk.

  As they were finishing up, Todd suggested they take in a ball game sometime. “You a Braves fan? I think I can get tickets for the game this Sunday.”

  Gordon wasn’t much of a baseball enthusiast, but he enjoyed Todd’s company. And Marta would be pleased. Wasn’t she always encouraging him to be more outgoing?

  “That sounds like fun,” he said. “I’ll have to check with my wife, though.”

  “Why’s that?”

  The question surprised Gordon. He shrugged to cover his embarrassment. “Uh, to see if we have plans for the day.”

  Todd nodded. “Hope you can make it.”

  *****

  When Gordon arrived home that evening, Marta was in the kitchen rinsing lettuce for the salad. It wasn’t often that she beat him home, but Gordon had been so energized by his lunch with Todd that he’d dug into the rewrite of his conference paper with an enthusiasm he hadn’t felt in a long time. All in all, he was in an upbeat mood.

  He greeted Marta with a kiss, which landed slightly askew because she turned to pat the salad greens dry with a paper towel just as he planted the kiss. She smiled at him over her shoulder.

  “How was your day?” he asked.

  Marta shrugged. “I spent most of it on the Youth In Transition mailing. How was yours?”

  “Pretty good. Alan Warner said he’d heard some positive scuttlebutt about that paper I submitted for the History and Humanity conference.”

  “That’s wonderful!”

  “Final decision is riding on the rewrite though.” Gordon reached for a cherry tomato from the salad bowl and popped it into his mouth. “It will certainly help my chances for tenure if it’s accepted for presentation.”

  Marta dried her hands on her apron. “It’ll work out, Gordon. I’m sure it will. I know this past year has been hard on you, but the department’s decision was a financial one. It wasn’t directed at you personally.”

  Gordon didn’t share his wife’s confidence, but it was nice to hear her voice support. Some days he wasn’t so sure she had much faith in him anymore.

  “You’ll never guess who I ran into on campus today,” he said. “Todd Wilson. The guy who is interested in buying the house down the street.”

  Something in Marta’s expression shifted. It was a subtle shift but notable because it seemed so incongruous. “What was he doing on campus?” she asked, sounding annoyed.

  “I don’t know. Getting a feel for the town, I guess. We had lunch.”

  “You what?”

  The remark had the sting of a slap. Reflexively, Gordon recoiled. “Lunch. We had lunch. It wasn’t anything fancy. We went to the food court on campus.”

  “I thought you took your lunch. I made your sandwich this morning.”

  So that’s what this was about? “I wasn’t planning on running into him. I’m sorry about the sandwich.”

  Marta took a breath. “No, that’s okay. It was just tuna, nothing special.” She turned her back to him and continued tearing lettuce. “How was lunch?”

  “Fine. He’s an easy guy to talk to. In fact, he invited me to the Braves game this Sunday.”

  Marta’s hands stilled. She stood still as stone. “Why would he do that?”

  “I guess maybe he’s trying to be neighborly.”

  “Neighborly?” Her voice echoed with the how-stupid-can-you-be tone that always made him wonder what he’d done wrong. She swung around to face him again. “He’s not really serious about the house down the street,” she noted icily. “He hasn’t even looked at it.”

  “How do you know?” And why did it matter? Gordon didn’t understand what had Marta so ticked off.

  She brushed his question aside. “There’s something not right about that man.”

  “What do you—”

  “This whole act, showing up in our garage, running into you on campus . . . it makes no sense.”

  “Act?”

  “Right.”

  Gordon was having trouble following her. “What are you suggesting? That Todd is a serial killer or government agent or something?”

  He expected her to laugh. But she didn’t.

  “I don’t know, Gordon. I just have a bad feeling about him.”

  “You’ve made that clear from the start.” He generally trusted Marta’s instincts about people, but this was crazy.

  “You didn’t agree to go to the game with him, did you?”

  “In fact, I did.”

  Marta stared at him. Her face grew pale. “You can’t,” she said finally.

  “Can’t?” Where did she get off telling him what he could and couldn’t do?

  “You don’t even like baseball.”

  “I don’t dislike it. And I happen to enjoy the guy’s company.”

  “You—”

  “Do we have other plans?”

  She looked at him blankly.

  “ Or do you simply not want me to go to the game?”

  “I . . . I . . .” Marta stared at the floor. She was breathing rapidly.

  Gordon was thoroughly perplexed. “I thought you’d be happy,” he said after a moment. “Aren’t you always on my case to be more outgoing?”

  Marta put her hands on her chest. “Please don’t go, Gordon.” She looked ill. “I can’t explain it. But I don’t trust the man.”

  Gordon didn’t get it. Was she threatened by the idea of Gordon having a friend? He sensed she was saying more than he understood.

  “Am I missing something? What’s the big deal?”

  Marta looked as though she might be on the verge of tears. Or maybe something more. She shook her head. “Please. As a favor to me.”

  “Let’s talk about it another time,” he said, thoroughly baffled.

  If it meant that much to her, he wouldn’t go. In some ways it would be a relief since he wasn’t sure he could keep up his end of a full day’s conversation with Todd anyway.

  All the same, he didn’t like being told what he could and couldn’t do, who he could and couldn’t be friends with. He was used to Marta’s complaints but this was over the top.

  A
nd it was perplexing as hell.

  Chapter 15

  Marta was livid. What in the hell was Todd up to? He had no right worming his way into her life. No right cozying up to Gordon and pretending to be a friend.

  She worried, too. Would he tell Gordon about their one-night stand? Did he intend to blackmail her? What the hell was she going to do?

  She had tried kindness. And she’d tried reason. She’d explained that she was happily married and told him to leave her alone. And he’d ignored her. Whatever game he was playing, it was dangerous.

  Her stomach churned. She’d have to be firmer, she decided. Forget the niceties. Just lay it out in no uncertain terms. Make him understand.

  But right now, she needed to smooth things over with Gordon.

  During dinner, she tried to calm down. None of this was Gordon’s fault. He didn’t see Todd the way she did. He didn’t know what she knew. Her earlier outburst had clearly confused and angered him.

  But her attempts to make nice were met with silence. Gordon said little, and what he did say was addressed to Jamie. As a result, Marta’s remarks, too, were addressed largely to Jamie, who appeared uncharacteristically upbeat. Although everyone was civil, the meal was tense and unpleasant. Marta couldn’t wait for it to end.

  As soon as dinner was done, Gordon retired to his study and Jamie to her room. Marta grabbed her cell phone and withdrew to a quiet corner of the living room with the intention of sending Todd a strong, clear message he wouldn’t be able to ignore.

  For a full five minutes, she stared at the phone, trying to figure out how to do that. Leave me alone sounded adolescent. This has got to stop came off as melodramatic. Both seemed to invite a response, and neither was particularly strong.

  She finally concluded no written message could sound angry or definitive enough to get through to him. As much as she hated the idea, she’d have to tell him directly.

  She started to punch in Todd’s number but chickened out. Instead, she called Carol.

  “What’s up?” Carol asked. Laughter and conversation buzzed in the background. It sounded as if she was out at some social event.

  “Have I got you at a bad time?”