Tempted Again (6 page)

“What are you watching?” she asked.

“A documentary.”

“About?”

“Egypt.”

He looked so intent that she had to ask, “What are you thinking?”

“That the Silver Pharoah aka Psusennes actually did relocate Rameses’ lost city.”

Great. She was thinking about her dad and wondering what made him tick and he was thinking about ancient Egypt. That figured. No wonder she had issues.

Her dad went into how the Nile River had often changed course over the past several thousand years, making it hard to locate the lost city. She tried to outwardly politely listen but inside her resentment was growing. Her dad knew more about the Egyptian pharaohs than he did about her own life.

She told herself it was childish to be jealous of her dad’s passion for ancient history. And had she not been
feeling so vulnerable she would have agreed with her logical inner self. But as it was, her emotions were naked and exposed.

She didn’t even know how to describe what she was experiencing because she’d never been like this before. Never been such a mess of anxiety, panic, depression, and despair. The self-help books she’d read said those reactions were all normal during and after a divorce.

At least she and Brad hadn’t had any kids. The thought flashed into her head as she searched for some kind of silver lining.

“What do you think?” her dad surprised her by asking. In fact, she was so stunned she momentarily couldn’t even frame an answer.

Then he added, “Don’t you agree that the Silver Pharaoh must have found Rameses’ fabled lost city?”

“You’re the only one who thinks about things like that,” her mom said as she entered the room.

“That’s not true. We talk about it on my Facebook page with a lot of people who either agree or disagree with me on this issue.”

“Do you have a Facebook page?” her mom asked her.

Marissa shook her head. “Not personally, no. I did work on the one for my former library.”

“You should get one,” her mom said. “You never know who might look you up. Just the other day I got a friend request from a guy I knew in college. In fact, when your dad and I broke up, Jay and I went out together.”

Marissa’s eyes widened. “You and Dad broke up?”

“Several times. Even then it wasn’t easy to get his attention. So I’d break up with him and date someone else.”

“But she always came back to me,” her dad said.

“Don’t sound so proud of yourself.” Her mom shot him a look. “As I recall, you were the one who’d beg for me to come back.”

Marissa knew that Brad had not begged to come back to her. Instead he’d tried to blame her, telling her that if she’d been better in bed he wouldn’t have had to go looking elsewhere for satisfaction.

Cheating on her was a deal breaker. She’d told him that before he asked her to marry him and afterward. He’d sworn that it would never happen. But it had. In their bed.

Marissa lost a part of herself that day. The part that believed in happy endings and forever.

“I never knew that you and Dad had trouble,” she said.

“We always have trouble,” her mom said.

“But you never fight.”

“It takes two to fight and your father doesn’t always reside on this planet. Isn’t that right, honey?”

“Hmm?” Her dad had that glazed look that said he was no longer following the conversation. It was a look he wore frequently.

“See what I mean?” Her mom rolled her eyes. “So how did your first day at work go?” she asked Marissa.

“It went well. I got the fridge rules for the staff room, which is always an important thing in a new job. And I met the rest of the staff. Everyone was very nice to me.”

“And why shouldn’t they be? You’re a nice girl.”

“I’m not a girl anymore, Mom. I haven’t been for a long time now. I’m almost thirty.”

“You don’t have to get huffy.”

Marissa immediately felt guilty even though she didn’t think her voice had sounded anything but polite. “I wasn’t…I…”

“I’m having a bad hormone day!” her mom said. “Dinner is in five minutes. If you both aren’t seated at the table by then, you’re not eating.”

“She’s not kidding.” Her dad checked his watch. “It takes two minutes to get from here to the dining room. I’ve timed it.”

Marissa barely had time for a quick stop in the powder room to wash her hands before rushing to her seat.

Her mom nodded her approval before glaring at her spouse, who came ambling in as if he had all the time in the world.

It was like watching a pair of adolescents pushing the envelope to see how far they could go before some adult stepped in and stopped the lunacy. Unfortunately, Marissa was in no shape to act that role. Instead she ate as fast as she could and excused herself, citing exhaustion from a bad night’s sleep the previous night.

Alone in her room, she shut the door on her parents’ issues. But that just allowed the memories of her own failed marriage to wash over her.

She closed her eyes and saw herself on her wedding day in white satin. Her father had given her away. Her mother had been teary-eyed. And Marissa had been so full of hope and happiness.

Then she saw Brad in bed with his assistant, the other woman’s long red hair spread over Marissa’s pillowcase, her burgundy nails digging into Marissa’s husband’s back.

In the beginning Brad had been remorseful. He’d
sworn it was a onetime thing. He’d even cried. That stage hadn’t lasted long, however.

When Marissa hadn’t given in, he’d quickly moved on, trying to use logic. Men weren’t meant to be monogamous. According to Brad, the sociologists all said so. Marissa was a librarian, he’d said. She should know these things.

She only knew that he’d crushed her and left her broken.

When Brad’s version of logic failed to impress her, he moved on to his angry defiant phase. He admitted he’d lied when he’d said he’d only slept with the other woman once.

Marissa replayed their last phone conversation in her head. “Why in our bed?” The words had been torn from her throat.

“It was the closest,” he’d said bluntly. “Usually we did it at her place or in my office after hours. Why does it matter where we did it? Are you saying you wouldn’t be divorcing me if you’d walked in on us in my office instead of in our bed?”

His voice had been filled with such vile disrespect and fury that she’d hung up on him and hadn’t spoken directly to him since then. Her attorney had said to let her handle things, so Marissa had. She’d also changed her cell phone number.

She wished she could change her past as easily.

*  *  *

Marissa spent the next two weeks checking the local listings for available apartments. There was nothing in her price range. The places near the college were highly
desirable by students who didn’t want to live in the dorms.

There were a few sublets for the summer but they were in buildings so rowdy that the partying started early and never seemed to end. Marissa knew this because the beer cans were already flying between balconies when she arrived at nine in the morning. Most of the students left for the summer but enough stayed to make things noisy.

She was running out of hope of ever leaving her parents’ house when she finally came across a promising possibility. The ad listed it as a one-bedroom apartment in a quiet and secure building.

She called and spoke to the building manager, Sally Parelli, who sounded very nice. It wasn’t a huge complex. There were only sixteen apartments in the building.

She made an appointment to see the place first thing the next morning before work. It was plain and basic, with a small kitchen but a walk-in closet in the bedroom. And it faced west. Plus, the rent was reasonable.

“I’ll take it,” she immediately said.

She filled out the renter information form and promised to stop by after work to sign a lease—providing her references checked out. “Which I’m sure they will,” Sally said. “Your dad has been a professor at the college for as long as I can remember. Everyone knows him.”

Did they really? Because despite living at home for a few weeks, Marissa had yet to feel like she knew him. She knew things
about
him, sure. Like the fact that he loved quoting Terry Pratchett’s novels. But that was different than really knowing him.

She was no Pollyanna. She realized that lots of parents didn’t tell their kids that they were proud of them.
Her work with young adults had told her that. Many came from single-parent households where the struggle to get from paycheck to paycheck took every ounce of energy the family had.

“Your mom and I share the same hairdresser,” Sally was saying. “And the same manicurist at Liz’s Nails.”

Marissa hid her hands in her tote bag as she dug for her car keys. She hadn’t had a manicure in more than a year. When it came down to a choice between food and good nails, she’d gone with food. Her sister, Jess, would most likely have gone with the good nails option. Just one of many ways they were different.

“Plus you’re working at the library here now,” Sally said. “Your boss, Roz, and I are in the same book club group. We’re also in the same knitter’s group. Do you knit?”

“No. I’ve done some crocheting but that’s about it.”

“You should try knitting. It’s not that hard. Anyway, I’m sure everything will check out. And I’m willing to have you pay the deposit over the next few weeks.”

“I really appreciate that.”

“Hey, I went through a divorce myself a number of years ago. I know how hellish it can be.”

Marissa just nodded.

“I still get angry about it sometimes,” Sally admitted. “When I do, I put on that Carrie Underwood song ‘Before He Cheats’ and dance. It makes me feel better. You might want to try that when you move in.”

“I don’t play my music loud,” Marissa assured her. “I usually listen with headphones.”

Sally laughed. “I never thought you’d be rowdy.”

“I’m not.”

“I believe you.”

“I’ll be back later today to sign the lease.”

“That’s fine.
Unless you want to sign it now?”

“Really?”

“I’m a good judge of character and as I said, I know your parents. You’re a local.” Sally nodded. “I don’t need to check your references any more than that. If you want to sign the lease now…”

“I do.”

Marissa didn’t even read it before signing, she was in such a hurry to get things finalized. Finally a place where she could put her own things and not live in days gone by.

“Great.” Sally added her signature on both copies and gave Marissa her lease while keeping the other for herself. “It’s a safe building.” Sally said. “You couldn’t find a more secure place because the sheriff lives here. Next door to you, in fact.”

Marissa’s stomach dropped. “The sheriff?”

Sally nodded. “Connor Doyle.”

For a second, Marissa wanted to grab that lease back and rip it in shreds. How was she going to manage having Connor as her neighbor? She should have recognized the building from that Sunday morning when she’d been out walking and he’d confronted her, but she hadn’t. After all, he’d appeared out of nowhere and she’d walked away. It never occurred to her that he might have an apartment right here.

Sally said, “The college kids aren’t eager to live near the local law for some reason. But you’re different. I’ll bet it will make you sleep easier at night.”

Marissa seriously doubted that.

Chapter Four

“Are
you okay?” Sally put a hand on Marissa’s arm. “You’ve gone all pale.”

“I’m okay.”

“Do you need a glass of water or something?”

Marissa shook her head.

“Look, here he comes now,” Sally said.

Marissa didn’t have time to run for it. Besides, that would be the cowardly thing to do. Appealing but cowardly.

“Good morning, ladies.” Connor was irritatingly cheerful.

Marissa hadn’t seen him much since that early morning when he’d called her Rissa. She’d welcomed the break from his company in the interval but she’d always been on her guard against running into him. One time she’d waited in her car when she’d seen him walk into
the Kroger until he came out a short time later. Luckily, no one had knocked on her car window the way they had a few days later in the library parking lot.

“Having car trouble?” Roz had asked.

“No.” Marissa had started the rust-bucket VW, whereupon the sound of Copper’s “Heartbreak Lullaby” began to blare out of the demented sound system. She’d turned the demon lime car off again. “It won’t even let me eject the darn CD.”

“I know a good mechanic if you want to get that fixed,” Roz had told her.

Marissa had copied down the info even though she knew she couldn’t afford to pay a mechanic. First she had to get an apartment.

And now here she was, with her lease in her hand and her nemesis a few feet away.

“You’re just in time to meet your new neighbor,” Sally said. “Connor Doyle, meet Marissa Bennett.”

“We’ve met,” Connor said.

Marissa didn’t know which would be worse—him saying they’d been a couple a decade ago or him saying he’d pulled her over for being in the parade. She should have known he wouldn’t elaborate. Maybe he was hoping she’d jump to fill in the silence and stick her foot in her mouth. Not gonna happen. She was learning when to keep her mouth shut and this was one of those occasions.