Untangling The Stars (18 page)

He
what?
“I’m sorry, Dean Kelley, but did I mishear you? Did you say that Guy Wilder tried to pull out of his contract today?”

“Yes, that is correct, at least per the reporter who called my office today. A Miss Penelope Walter who said, and I quote, ‘Guy threatened to pull his contract today due to the impact this story is having on his personal life. Do you think Dr. Alessandra Foxglove is behind this?’ You really should keep up with your own headlines, Alessandra.”

Alone again in her classroom, Andie sat in stunned silence. Even with everything else going on around her, it was almost too much to take in that Guy had really threatened to walk off his job. Was that his way of “fixing it?” Was she, subconsciously, actually stealing away one of Hollywood’s newest prodigies without even knowing it? That had never been her intention. She’d never even thought about it as a possibility.

Things were moving too fast. Was she the Hollywood Home Wrecker after all?
Oh my God, what have I done?

CHAPTER TWELVE

Of all the bad days she’d ever had, the one that followed had to be among the worst. Okay, maybe not
the
worst, but it was definitely in the top five—maybe top three.
Go home day, you’re drunk
. It was a meme waiting to happen. As she packed up her belongings for the day and tidied up her classroom, Andie couldn’t help thinking that, until she was emotionally ready to return to work, she might just turn her Out of Office notification on, lock her door, and give her students a steady trail of B’s in the grade book. What was that James Cromwell line from
Babe
? “That’ll do, pig.” Yep, that was about right.

Her dean was disappointed, and that sucked enough on its own—not to mention it was
horribly
embarrassing. She only wanted her name to come up in the higher administration offices when she’d done something brilliant or at least positive, not when her mug shot was plastered all over the Internet like a drunk underclassman at a sorority party. Speaking of, her students were a disastrous combination of shocked, envious, and too forthright in their curiosities. Guy’s comment to Cody about sitting in on their course the week before became the leading conversation point of one entire class hour, through which Andie endured questions, criticism, and a heavy dose of disbelief that the whole thing was little more than some weird publicity stunt or absurd homework assignment.

That actually stung in ways that she did not expect it to. Andie couldn’t figure out if she wasn’t good enough to land a guy like Guy Wilder, or if her students thought she was so hard up for a date that she’d plot out some crazy, self-debasing research scam. To top it all off, her fellow professors seemed to either suddenly find her more of a shame to the age-old craft of academia—or worse, the most interesting specimen they’d had the chance to get their grubby little interrogating hands on in decades. She braved it all with an air of confidence and disinterest, or at least she tried to. It was her personal life after all—her
love
life, thankyouverymuch, and she wasn’t interested in filling out any questionnaires about it anymore. She was mostly pulling off the whole undisturbed act until Dr. Preston, that crusty old duck, stuck his face in her office between hours and asked if she wouldn’t mind if he took some measurements for what would inevitably become his new office.

“Just such irony that a professor of film analysis would end up in bed—if you’ll pardon the expression—with an actor. I would hope that you’re not too biased now are you, Miss Foxglove?”

Miss
Foxglove? Normally she could take his unkempt eyebrows and way-past-his-nostrils nose hairs, but today they seemed to be waving menacingly at her in the breeze of breath between his thinly veiled insults and smug little implications that she’d be out on her ass in the very near future.
Like hell, Preston. I might be smudging the university’s good name right now, but I’ll burn this mother down before you take my classes.
She thought about flinging her old Swingline at him, but that would have been a rude thing to do to the poor stapler.

In truth, it seemed like everybody was enjoying some kind of gross satisfaction at her expense. She didn’t even dare to read the comments on the blogs that went with the scandalous headlines. If her “friends” could be so cruel about the whole situation, she didn’t even want to know what trolling strangers from the depths of the Internet would have to say. And Guy hadn’t called all day. That was just about the last nail in the coffin—pun intended. While he was off frolicking, enjoying the spike in show ratings from his name being inked all over the headlines, here she was doing the grunt work as the scapegoat for their romance.

Andie sighed. She was being unfair—probably. For all she knew, Guy could be having just as bad a day as she was. Ginifer sure had made it sound like it wasn’t all cappuccinos and cupcakes over there, and Andie hadn’t forgotten Guy’s confessions of the other night. If it was this bad for her, it had to be ten times as awful in the public spotlight that Guy was under. Besides, it could have been worse. Scott was still in her corner and at least Tandy—
oh, shit, Tandy.

As if right on cue, a pinkish blur of fury edged into Andie’s peripheral vision. It stood, looming tersely in the doorway and ready to burst. Tandy’s arms were crossed tightly over her chest and the scowl of every angry 90s songstress was smeared across her usually very-smiley face. And she was terrifyingly quiet—easy evidence that this was the angriest Tandy Cobb that the world had ever known. She was so furious that it took a few moments of pointing a silent, accusatory finger at Andie to ready the poisonous darts that would inevitably start flying out of her mouth any second.

Okay, what is it that they teach you in self-defense class? Step one: assess the threat.
Andie put her hands up submissively and gave Tandy a once over. The last thing she wanted right this moment was a confrontation with the Tandy Beast. Her black mascara was blotted under her eyes—the evidence of rage crying—and her bubblegum lip-gloss had been applied with the maniacal glee of the Joker.
Great.
This was not going to end well.

“You,” Tandy’s voice shook. “You little lying weasel bitch.”

Whoa.
The words alone were enough to nearly knock Andie off her feet, but she let Tandy have that one. “Listen, Tandy, you don’t know the whole story.”

“You lied to me.” Tandy wasn’t interested in listening to the whole story. She slammed a fist into the doorframe. That had to have broken a nail.

“I never lied to you.”

“You lied your
ass
off to me! ‘Everything is going to be okay with the gala. I don’t know
anyone
who could help us out of the mess we’re in.’ Never crossed your mind to tell us you’re knocking boots with one of the biggest stars around, all while you’re playing professor in here.”

Okay, that was hitting below the belt. Nobody made jabs at her teaching methods and lived to tell about it—and
nobody
called Alessandra Foxglove a liar. “I didn’t lie to you, Tandy. How dare you make implications about what I do in my classroom? And just because I kept
my
private life private, doesn’t mean I lied to
anyone
.”

“You knew we needed a keynote speaker at the gala—that we are
dying
without one. And you didn’t bother to tell a soul that you’ve been
screwing
Guy Wilder? It’s still a lie if it’s intentionally deceptive to not tell the
whole
truth.”

“What I do in my spare time is none of your business, Tandy. I think you’re mistaking deception for privacy.” Andie bit the words through gritted teeth. She could feel her temperature starting to rise. How dare Tandy stick her big freckled nose into her private—?

“That’s just like you, Andie.” Tandy sneered and advanced on her, backing her up against the edge of her own desk. Who would have known that such a pretty girl could have been just the shell for such a menacing witch? “Resourceful Dr. Foxglove, hanging onto the best bits just so she can swoop in and save the day. Our
hero.
”

That was it. Andie pushed onto her feet and walked resolutely into the other woman, forcing her up against the wall.
Just who the hell does she think she is? Nobody puts Andie in the corner.
Luckily, Andie had worn heels today and she was just about as tall as the other woman. It was always a plus to be on even ground when you needed to get directly in someone’s face—literally.

Tandy, still quivering with rage, backed away quickly. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that no one had ever stood up to her before, but there was a first time for everything, though Andie had never thought she’d be the one to do it. Honestly, her vote had always been on Elizabeth.

“Now you listen here, Tandy Cobb. What I do in my free time—who I
screw
in my free time—is my business, and mine alone. And if I don’t want to parade my
boyfriend
around like a show pony and beg stuffy old women who think they’re better than everyone else to shove singles down his pants like a damned stripper, then I
won’t
. I am one hundred percent committed to
everything
I do. I’d take off that ugly shade of jealousy you’re wearing because it does nothing for your complexion. Now, am I clear or do I need to use smaller words?”

Andie barely managed to get it all out around the lump growing in her throat. The words burned. She didn’t remember ever being intentionally so scathing with her words. Sure, she’d
think
them, but she’d always managed to be significantly more diplomatic in her approach. Kill ’em with kindness, or get more flies with honey, or whatever other sugary colloquialisms she’d always heard growing up. But where had all that kindness had gotten her? From beloved professor and engaged social activist to the leading lady in a smear campaign in supermarket smut tabloids, flinging verbal venom at one of her closest friends.
Perfect.

Tandy sputtered and looked rattled. Yep, this had definitely been her first time getting a dose of own medicine, but there was no joy in it for Andie. She just felt like crap. It wasn’t in her nature to fight fire with fire. It felt cheap.

“Well then, Andie, I hope you’re happy with yourself. Let me know when you decide to come back down to earth with the rest of us little people.” She pivoted on her heel and sped out of the office before Andie could get in another word, which was fine.

Andie leaned on her desk, fighting to keep tears from spilling out of her eyes. What was happening to her? The part of Andie’s character that had just shown itself was not one that she liked—not by any stretch of the imagination.

***

Andie’s mind still wasn’t clear by the time she made it back to her building, so she decided to take the stairs up to her fourth floor apartment. She took the steps two at a time and was breathing heavily by the time she reached the landing and twisted her key in the outer lock. Nothing like a little bit of cardio to get the blood moving and clear the old thinker. Mercifully, there were no reporters at her door this time to ambush her. If she just ignored the past twenty-four hours, she could almost feel like her old self again and not that Mr. Hyde version that had shown up in her office. Screw that guy; he was a jerk.

“Andie.” Guy was standing at her door, his arm poised in mid knock. He tried to smile over the worried look on his face, but it didn’t quite light up the darkness on his face. He looked so forlorn standing there, the more tender side of him peeking through the same molded leather jacket and tousled dark hair, though the tense way he was standing looked like he was ready to fight someone. Maybe he was; she’d seem his temper flare before. Woe be it if there had been another one of those slimy paparazzo coming around the corner and not her.

Turning to her, he ran a hand through his hair and tried to shove a lock of it behind his ear. Andie loved the way his hair was so dark in contrast to his eyes that shone like they were backlit with moonlight. He always had a way of looking mysterious and captivating at the same time. But as he ran fingers through the slick of dark hair, it looked like his hand might be trembling, or otherwise Andie was just projecting. She was still trembling from her encounter with Tandy, too.

Seeing him standing there, Andie felt her knees start to give out from underneath her. Somehow, she felt like she could finally cast off the brave mask she’d been wearing all day. She ignored the parallelism of the whole thing—her being the one to now hide behind a mask and all that. It wasn’t worth thinking about when Guy’s arms were waiting for her to collapse in them. She was still upset with him, but he looked too good to resist. When his fingertips brushed against the sides of her waist, she flung herself into him and dropped her bag between their feet. She let him hold her as she sobbed, breathing in his scent of sandalwood and vanilla. “Oh, Guy, it’s been so awful. Everyone is so upset with me. I yelled at Tandy. I feel like I don’t even know who I am anymore.” It all came out in a rush.