Trevor forcibly controlled any outward sign that her words scared him. He gave her the same bored expression he’d adopted years ago and wielded at social events when the catty gossip started and his date for the night expected him to participate.
“It might have something to do with the fact that when I took her to prom, we were just friends. We didn’t officially date until seven years later.”
“It’s a tidy explanation. I have to give you that, but I don’t buy it. You’re up to something…and I have every intention of finding out what it is. I won’t lose this promotion to your games.”
“You say that like you and Trevor are the only ones in the running,” Mike said.
Rachel looked at Mike as though he were a brainless child that she had to tolerate. “We all know who the real contenders are, it’s just difficult to sustain a competition with only two adversaries. Where’s the fun in going straight to the final round?” She sauntered off with her drink in hand and joined Steve on the deck.
“You think she’s right?” Mike asked.
Yeah, she was right, but only she was cruel enough to rub that in someone’s face. Trevor clapped him on the back. “Not at all, my man, not at all. Let’s go see what the ladies are up to.”
10
the crash
PIPER BIT HER LIP WAITING for Davidson to make the introductions and told herself there was no reason to worry. Just because they had daughters in dance, as evidenced by the many pictures around the house, it didn’t mean that Davidson’s wife had any idea who she was. It’s not like she was a big, household name like Blush. She’d been so busy up until that point navigating everything else and trying to avoid missteps that she hadn’t even had time for the worry to creep in.
‘I’d like you all to meet my wife, Marla.”
Marla? Didn’t Rafe say the woman trying to reach her was named Marla? Maybe not. Even so, it’s not like there was only one Marla on the planet. Totally fine.
She looked nothing like Piper imagined. Davidson stood tall and larger than life, but his wife was a pint-sized spitfire of a woman who radiated energy from the top of her blonde head to the Nike running shoes on her feet. Thick lashes framed her pretty, brown eyes and while she looked as sweet as could be, the energy oozing from her told Piper that she was a force to be reckoned with.
Davidson introduced them all by their first names. When he got to Piper’s name, Piper noticed Marla paused for the briefest of moments, her forehead wrinkled.
Or Piper, in her paranoia, imagined the whole thing.
As soon as she could break away, she was going to call Rafe and reassure herself that the Marla in question was not Davidson’s Marla.
They all made their way into the house where Davidson gave Marla a rundown of all she missed. Much like the first day of school where you have to introduce yourself, they went around the room and talked about what they did for a living, forcing Piper to lie again. The thing was, she didn’t so much mind it in the beginning, but now she’d gotten to know these people, bonded with them, considered them friends. Naïve of her considering at some point, she and Trevor had to manufacture a breakup.
She didn’t have a lot of female friends. Most of the women she had known over the years also danced, and with that came a certain hunger and drive, making the dance world a competitive, backstabbing arena. When thirty dancers vie for one slot, there’s not room for friendship as much as Piper wished there had been.
Maybe her body wasn’t the only thing keeping her from advancing in the dance world.
“So, did you all have fun?” Marla asked.
“Absolutely, you have a beautiful home,” Christina said.
Rachel broke away from the group and wandered toward the front hall, perusing the pictures on the wall. Piper noticed she kind of stayed on the fringes of almost everything. If it wasn’t directly related to her career or to cause trouble, she had little to no attention span.
“How about the Newlywed Game. You can be honest, was it cheesy?” Marla asked.
“Not cheesy at all,” Rachel practically purred. “Revealing. Definitely revealing,” Rachel said.
Well, apparently Rachel hovered on the outskirts, but didn’t miss a beat.
“Yes, well, don’t hold too much stock in it. Davidson is great with remembering locations and activities, but timelines…not a chance. If he and I competed, we’d likely come in dead last.”
He put his arm around his wife and smiled down at her. No question this man absolutely adored his wife. “I can’t argue that. When you’re on the downhill slide in life the last thing you want to do is go over the math. When Marla talks about the eighties, for me, it’s like yesterday. For her, well, she was ten,” Davidson said, shrugging his shoulders, his palms out.
“Oh, stop! Age is just a state of mind, but after that drive and the stuff going on with the girls, I feel like I’ve put on five years. Do you guys mind if I borrow my husband for a minute so I can fill him in?”
“Not at all, take your time,” Deanne said.
They headed off toward the master suite and Piper grasped Trevor’s arm. “I need to make a quick call.”
“Everything okay?”
“Sure, it’s fine.”
“Good,” he murmured as he trailed a finger along her temple and rubbed a lock of her hair between his fingers.
“Thanks,” she pressed a kiss to his lips and held it for a few beats longer than innocent and laughed when he let out a little growl.
She headed for their bedroom like Trevor had asked. She’d hit Rafe’s contact in her speed dial when she stepped through the door. His voice popped on the line just as she shut the door with her foot.
“It’s Sunday. What could possibly be so important?” he mumbled sleepily.
“The woman that’s been calling, what’s her name?”
“Good God, woman, you were going to call her tomorrow. Let it go and enjoy your weekend.”
“I’m trying to enjoy my weekend, but I need to know that Davidson’s wife is not the same woman that’s been so persistent in reaching us so I can breathe again.”
“Come on, what are the chances that it’s the same one? It’s Martha something or other, give me a minute and I’ll check.”
She heard the shuffling of papers on the other end, then Rafe muttered a swear and returned to the phone. “Sorry, not Martha. It’s Marla.”
Piper bit her lip and flinched. Heat flooded her face. “What’s Marla’s last name?” She crossed her fingers and prayed.
“Williams.”
Fuck.
Maybe when Trevor threw together that binder, he should have given Piper a different first name.
“What’s going on, Piper?”
“She’s here. At least I think it’s her. How many women of the same name are running around New York?”
“You mean there, there?”
“Yes, like shook her damn hand here.”
“Does she know who you are?”
“No, Trevor didn’t introduce me as Piper Bradley. Just Piper.”
“What the hell are you going to do now?”