I didn’t want to think about it. But I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t get the picture out of my head, of her pressing up against him.
Now I knew how Alice felt with her sensitive nerves. I wasn’t sure if my own would survive the night. And my heart wasn’t doing so well, either.
I stood and paced. I knew I’d have to confront Derek eventually. I mean, he was here. At BABA. And the thought of him being here with Layla was more than I could bear. I would have to quit my class. It was completely depressing. And confusing. And infuriating.
“Damn it.” I slammed my fist against the counter. Yes, I was furious. I was also in pain. It hurt to slam body parts against hard surfaces. But I was so angry. Angry at Derek, who hadn’t had the decency to call me, not once, since I had left Edinburgh. And angry at Layla, who even on a good day was not exactly on my list of favorite people.
I let out a little shriek and perused the room. This was an impossible situation. My students would be here shortly. I had to get ready for class.
I gripped the edge of the worktable and tried to steady myself. I refused to panic, but it had been a long time since I’d felt this edgy and desperate.
No, I had to take that back. I’d felt almost exactly this way a few brief weeks ago, when I was accused of murder. For the second time.
Frankly, this felt worse. Last time, I knew I hadn’t murdered anyone, so I was confident the truth would be revealed eventually. This was different. This was hideous. This was jealousy. And it sucked. It hurt. It made me feel stupid. It made me want to find that hole in the ozone and crawl through it and disappear. Or better yet, I could shove Derek through it and solve all my problems.
The door opened and I whipped around, half expecting Derek to walk in. But thank God, it was only Cynthia, Gina, and Whitney. I was ridiculously disappointed. Idiot.
“Hi, Brooklyn,” Gina said merrily. “Cool party, isn’t it?”
“I thought I saw you come in,” Cynthia said, dropping her bag and jacket on her seat. Her hair was askew and her sweater and shirt were pulled up in back. I wondered if she’d gone a few rounds with her husband in the other classroom.
“I was going to run out and grab a glass of wine,” Whitney said. “But if you’re ready to start class, we’re ready, too.”
As Cynthia rearranged her clothing, she took a good look at me and frowned. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, sure,” I said lightly. “I felt a little sick to my stomach but I’m fine. Probably something I ate.”
“Wow,” Gina said, taking notice for the first time. “You really don’t look good.”
“What every woman longs to hear,” I said, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. I should go wash my hands.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“No. I’ll go in a minute. I just want to make sure everyone gets here.”
“Honey, we’re all big kids,” Cynthia said. “We’ll be fine on our own for a few minutes.”
“Yes, Brooklyn,” Gina said. “Go wash your face.”
The truth was, I didn’t want to leave the room for fear of running into Derek. But they were all watching me, so I threw them a grateful smile and escaped, racing to the ladies’ room without seeing anyone.
As I washed my hands, I stared at myself in the mirror. Except for being a little pale, I looked fine. A little shell-shocked, maybe, but if you looked beyond the blank-eyed stare and the deathly pallor, I looked the same as always. That was my story, anyway. I pinched my cheeks a few times to get some color back. It wasn’t working.
I placed a cold paper towel on my forehead and closed my eyes. I would get through this. Hell, there was a good chance I might not run into Derek at all. He didn’t know I was working here, although he’d be pretty stupid not to. And he wasn’t a stupid man. Except when it came to his taste in women, apparently. Layla was a stupid choice, just my opinion.
But that didn’t matter. The point was, he hadn’t cared enough to call me and say he was coming to town.
“So, it was nice while it lasted,” I whispered. But it was over now. If I was being perfectly honest, it had never started, not really. Yes, we’d had a flirtation, a few kisses. A lot of kisses, actually, and some intense moments. He was a really great kisser. Lucky me. But now he was with Layla, and lucky her. If she was what he wanted, then who needed him? Not me. No way.
Oh, that was such a lie.
As I dried my hands, I tried my mother’s old trick of smiling at myself in the mirror. If you stared long enough at yourself grinning like a loon, you could make yourself laugh. It always worked to cheer me up.
I wasn’t cheered. I could barely manage more than a trembling sneer. When my eyes began to tear, I looked away and carefully blinked until the moisture evaporated. Then I tried on a neutral smile.
“That’ll have to do,” I muttered philosophically. In a year or so, I’d look back on this time and laugh at myself for making yet another horrible choice in men.
I tossed the paper towel in the trash and shoved the door open.