“Only if you’re offering to take me out.” I eye the streaks of dirt covering his sweatshirt. “Nowhere fancy, I assume.”
“I was working up at the Butterfly House and got hungry.”
“So you thought of me?”
He leans closer to me and murmurs, “I always think of you when I get hungry.”
I smile and rub my nose against his. “How’s the work going?”
“Got a whole room full of furniture to go through,” Dean says. “I found a mantel clock that looks like it might be made of rosewood. I told Florence I’d get in touch with some museum curators and send them pictures. See if they can give us an idea of provenance.”
My heart fills at the undercurrent of enthusiasm in his voice, the evidence that he hasn’t let the loss of his job deter him from his love of all things historical.
It’s been over two weeks since he sent in his resignation letter, and though he’s still working on the Words and Images conference from home, he only goes to campus to meet with students and help facilitate the transition.
“I have my last shift at the museum this afternoon,” I say. “Do you want me to tell Florence anything about the Butterfly House, if I see her?”
“For some reason, she told me to be sure and check the closets.” Dean scratches his head and shrugs. “You can tell her I did that this morning, but didn’t find anything very interesting.”
“Not like she did,” I mutter.
“Huh?”
“I’ll tell her,” I assure him solemnly.
The front door squeaks open, and Crystal steps onto the porch. An instant freeze coats the air when she and Dean see each other. I put my hand gently on Dean’s arm.
“Why don’t I just meet you later for dinner at home?” I ask. “We need to distribute some flyers, then I have my museum shift.”
He nods, his gaze still on Crystal as he steps back to let us both pass.
“Allie said he quit his job,” she remarks as we walk down the street.
“Long story,” I reply, keeping my voice casual even though my neck tenses with irritation.
“Classic story,” she says. “But it sounds like he did the right thing. No sense letting something like that go to court, when he’d be screwed no matter what happened.”
Though I don’t like Crystal knowing anything about this, even I can admit that she’s right. We distribute flyers to a few downtown stores and coffeehouses, then stop by the Chamber of Commerce to arrange for an announcement on their website.
We’re heading toward a toy store when I glance across the street and see Maggie Hamilton walking on the opposite sidewalk. My chest fills with anger. I quicken my pace and duck into an alley so she won’t see me, so I won’t have to look at her…
“Mrs. West!”
I stop and turn, my hands tightening on the stack of flyers I’m holding. Crystal is a few feet away, watching Maggie as she hurries into the alley after us.
“What do you want?” I ask.
Maggie glances from me to Crystal, her mouth compressing. “How did you get that video? How did he?”
“What video?”
“You know exactly what video.” She steps forward. Her eyes flash with a hint of panic that I recognize all too well. “I got the email this morning. That coward sent it anonymously, but I know it was from your husband. I swear to God, if he threatens me with that video, my father will kill him.”
Unease roils inside me. “Dean won’t threaten you with anything, Maggie. He did exactly what you wanted, right? He’ll be done with King’s after the conference.”
“He’d better be. We know about you and him, Mrs. West. I doubt you were the first student he seduced.”
I can only shake my head. Though I still hate the implication that my relationship with Dean is somehow immoral, I know the truth of my husband and our marriage. I know the truth of us.
“So someone sent you an incriminating video of you and Jeffrey Butler, is that it?” I ask Maggie. “My guess is that it was his ex-wife.”
Maggie pales. Unexpected pity twists in my gut. With the lines of stress around her eyes and mouth, the sharp jut of her cheekbones, she no longer looks young—instead, she looks hollowed-out, like an empty shell.
“I can’t…” She steps back, her panic deepening. “Jeffrey told me he destroyed all the videos. I know Ben Stafford talked to him, but Jeffrey didn’t tell him anything. He never would.”
“I don’t think it was him,” I tell her. “His ex-wife said you sent her the videos after Jeffrey refused to divorce her and marry you.”
Maggie just stares at me.
“Well, that was stupid,” Crystal remarks.
My mother’s voice almost startles me, as if I’d forgotten she’s standing right there. Crystal crosses her arms, her blue gaze narrowing on Maggie.
“Sex videos, right?” she snaps. “You sent them to the guy’s ex-wife? What kind of idiot are you?”
Maggie swings her gaze from Crystal to me and back again. “I—”
“Yeah, I know,” Crystal continues. “You’re a young, stupid idiot who really believed that some guy would actually divorce his wife and marry you. Who was he, Liv?”