“Christ, Mandy. If anyone recognizes you, we’ll be mobbed.”
It was all she could do to keep silent. Her manager loved any type of mob scene. As a matter of fact, she was fairly sure that he instigated them from time to time to drum up interest in her performances. Foolish, really, as her concerts consistently sold out within a day of the tickets going on sale. She still pinched herself every time one of her songs raced to the top of the charts, and more than once she’d wondered if she really deserved the adoration of her fans, or the accolades for her work. But having the best songwriter in the business didn’t hurt...
A low stone fence rimmed this end of the playground. Every fifty feet or so there was a break to walk through and she did that now, admiring the craftsmanship of the stonemason. The School Board had wisely decided to preserve the fence, which had been built in the first half of the twentieth century by a family of Italian craftsmen who had settled in this part of the Okanagan Valley. She wandered along toward the swing set and then sat down on the fence, lost in memories of those days spent here in Gold Creek.
Stirred by a gentle breeze, the trees whispered in welcome, and for a moment she drifted back in time. She was sitting on a swing, pushing listlessly against the ground with the toe of her sneaker, listening as the other side presented the final argument on the topic du jour. The memory was so real, she could feel the sturdy chain links of the swing support under her palms, hot from the sun.
It had been her turn to lead the team arguing the ‘pro’ side. She couldn’t even remember what the discussion had been about, but she’d lost the argument, and her friends applauded the winning side, then turned to her.
“Matthew wins!” chirped her best friend Sunny. “You have to forfeit.”
“Thanks a lot.” Mandy pretended to be angry, but she’d known from the outset that she was arguing a lost cause. She turned to Matthew. “So, what’s it to be?”
“I think a kiss would be appropriate.” He shoved up his glasses, but not before she saw something bloom in the depths of his eyes.
“A kiss?” It was all she could do to get the words out. Matt Williamson had come to Gold Creek in mid-year, and she hardly knew him. Tall and lanky, he seemed uncoordinated, and yet there was something about him that made her think a kiss from him might not be such a hardship.
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” The crowd supported Matt’s choice.
Her hands tightened around the chain of the swing as he approached. She imagined herself to be a bug trapped in amber, and yet she was a willing bug.
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Her schoolmates weren’t letting up.
Matt grasped the chains of the swing, covering her hands with his. This close, she saw the flecks of gold floating in the chocolate of his eyes, and her breath caught in her throat as he leaned closer.
“We don’t have to do this, you know.” His gaze held hers, then moved slowly down to her lips. “Although I can’t think of a forfeit I’d rather have.”
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” The words echoed across the schoolyard.
“Okay, what’s going on here?”
Mandy was vaguely aware of the Vice-Principal’s voice as he strode toward the group. How could she be expected to hear when her heart was pounding so hard? She and Matt looked at each other for several long seconds and then he pulled away to face ‘Adolph.’
Steve Manley was the Vice Principal from hell. Pumped up by his imagined self-importance, he marched as he patrolled the halls of the small school, and had adopted a silly-looking moustache that resembled the one worn by Hitler. The nickname was inevitable.
Mandy stood, surprised that her legs would hold her. “Nothing, Mr. Manley.”
He glared at Mandy, then Matt, as though trying to make up his mind. Waving a hand in the air, he dismissed them. “That’s enough for today. You kids go home now.”
Matt opened his mouth to argue. After all, school was over for the day. But Mandy had given him a subtle shake of her head, which he acknowledged with an imperceptible nod.
She hadn’t thought about that day for years.
Chapter Two
“Are you all right, Miss Malone?”
Startled, Mandy looked up and acknowledged the limo driver. “Yes, Pete. I was remembering when I went to high school here.” She rose. “Doesn’t seem like seven years ago.”
His glance took in the entire area in one sweep. “I’ll bet it was nice, going to a small school like this.”
“It was.” She stretched, and they started walking side by side back to the limo. “We used to hang out right here, by the swings, and discuss the problems of the world.”
She didn’t know why she was being so forthcoming. She’d found over the years that it was better not to share personal stories. There were too many tabloids willing to pay for snippets of conversation, which by the time they were printed, rarely resembled any conversation she recalled.
Simon was fuming by the time she crawled back into the limo.
“What was that? A walk down memory lane?”
His caustic tone, coming on the heels of such a gentle memory, was too much for her. She rolled up the glass partition between the back and the driver and turned to Simon.
“Simon, let me remind you. You are my manager. You work for me, and if you weren’t damned good at what you do, I would have fired you long ago.”
He tried to look offended, but he was wise enough to remain silent.
“I made the mistake of getting personally involved with you, only to discover that you can’t keep your pants zipped. That part of our relationship is over, thank goodness, so all that’s left is a business arrangement. And that does not include me putting up with snide remarks.” She reached for a bottle of water and took a long drink. “If you can’t handle that, then I can and will get another manager.”