Your One True Love (The Bennett Family 8)

“What’s going on?” I inquire. “You two have been acting odd all day.”

They exchange uneasy glances. Right, not my imagination, then.

“Did I do something? The principal didn’t tell me—”

Karla shakes her head. “Nah. It’s something else. You didn’t see. I thought it might be that. You were too calm the entire day.”

Panic flares inside me now. “See what?” Did something happen to Dad? Daniel?

With an apologetic look, she stands up, takes her phone out of the front pocket of her jeans, taps it a few times, then hands it to me. Ice-cold dread sweeps over me. Now I understand the whispers, the furtive looks. On the tiny screen is a photo of Daniel and someone who is definitely not me. By the rich blonde mane and the article’s title, I know it’s Beatrix.

And though the picture is badly lit and unclear, things are not looking good. I can’t be sure, because the angle’s bad, but there seems to be lip-locking involved. I don’t want to think too closely about that the tangle of arms. I scroll down, reading the article. A glance up at the browser tells me it’s a trashy gossip magazine. Wasn’t expecting anything less.

Back to the article. I fight the knot in my throat, blink a few times to clear the haze in my eyes.

Why on earth is this such news? Probably because Beatrix is engaged to an A-list actor. Swallowing hard and squaring my shoulders, I hand the phone back to Karla.

“Isn’t this the guy you’re seeing? Daniel Bennett? We thought it was him,” Helen says uncertainly.

“Yes. So?” I ask harshly.

“Oh,” Karla says, clearly misinterpreting my stoicism for indifference. “We didn’t realize you two were casual, no strings.”

Thankfully, they don’t get to pry much longer because the principal walks in, asking us about the trip we’re planning with the kids to the zoo next week. I answer almost robotically, my mind spinning, focusing on a few words. Casual, no strings.

Once the principal’s out of the staff room, I excuse myself too, telling everyone I’m heading outside to prepare the yard for the afternoon after-school activities—which is true, but I also need to be alone with my thoughts.

I sway a little, unsteady on my feet as I make my way around the yard, my mind spinning and spinning until the vortex of thoughts is mirrored in my stomach, and I feel like I’m going to throw up.

Time to sit down a bit, draw in a few deep breaths, revisit the facts. One: the picture was unclear. Two: he came straight to me after the party, slipped in my bed.

But Daniel did break up with me once because he wanted to experiment and wasn’t ready to commit. This was ten years ago, though. And this time, it’s all been so different. So much sweetness underneath the passion, so many honest moments where we both let our guards down. It wasn’t all in my head, was it? It wasn’t just me building it up in my

mind? Assuming there was more?

But the picture, that damn picture. Fuzzy and badly lit as it is, it’s still enough to raise my doubts. He didn’t tell me anything about the weekend except that he won’t organize other bachelorette parties. I didn’t read anything into it. Should I have? But he wouldn’t have slipped right back in my bed if anything had happened.

By the time I head back inside, I feel like a zombie, tired from fighting with myself, from measuring pros and cons in my mind. I’m going through the motions, willing this day to finally be over so I can get out of here. Helen and Karla keep glancing furtively at me, and I want to tell them to mind their own business. Except when your personal life is online, it’s everyone’s business. From time to time, I check my phone, but there’s no message from Daniel. No surprise there. He said he’d keep his phone shut off today so he can concentrate on the group instead of dealing with calls related to the employee he fired.

He’s on a day trip with a group, on a boat tour around the bay with a three-hour stop at Alcatraz. But he did tell me he’ll go to his office after the tour, at around six o’clock.

So, the second the last kid is picked up, I head straight for his office, my mind made up.

***

Daniel

Lena is still at reception when I step inside my office building.

“Daniel, you’re here. Finally. I need to—”

“Give me five minutes, Lena. Five minutes.”

She nods, lips pressed together.

Inside my office, I finally turn on my phone. Jesus. Notifications keep popping up on my screen like mad. I have missed calls from my entire family. Shit, did something happen to any of them? Or Caroline?

Then I see the dozen missed calls from my employees too. I’ve got about two dozen messages too. From Beatrix as well. What does she want from me? Speak of the devil, she’s calling right now.