Page 9 of Class Act

With a few directions and only three times getting turned around, I was able to find my way back to the large room where the party was still going strong. The guests had ballooned to even greater numbers in the hour I’d been gone with Hillary. They were now eating pieces of cake, and the decibel level had climbed as the party grew in festive spirit. I was anxious to get home to my own place and away from the crowd. It was jarring after the quiet evening I’d shared in a garage--not to mention the quiet evenings I typically spent alone in my home.

As I made my way through the room toward the entryway where I would reclaim my shawl, I caught sight of Mr. Whittaker. He was at the center of a big group, smiling and laughing, a natural extrovert, still wearing that silly hat. It was more proof that he was nothing like the man I’d imagined.

Fake Ford had been peaceful and introverted, like me. Together we’d been content to spend quiet nights at home and keep a small group of friends. We’d talk about books or classic movies, maybe plan a European vacation or a historic tour back East. Fake Ford always waved away my offers to help pay, saying he could cover it, that I should save my pennies for myself. Fake Ford . . .

Real Ford’s laughter rang above the voices, jolting me out of my thoughts right as I was getting warmed up. I couldn’t hear the words he was saying, but I did understand that he was thriving in the spotlight, and I reaffirmed my plan to let go of all of it. It was messed up and wrong and definitely had the power to hurt people if it got out.

I made my way through the crowded room, occasionally stopping to say hello to an acquaintance but not staying long. I was ready to go home and put this strange series of events behind me. I was standing in the large circular foyer, waiting for my shawl, when Mr. Whittaker’s voice spoke from behind me. I recognized it immediately and turned to face him.

It was completely surreal, standing here in his foyer while he stood in front of me, holding a small plate of chocolate cake. My eyes followed the movement as his mouth formed a small smile.

“I’m guessing this year it was strawberries and cream that they stole?” He sighed, but there was no real anger in it. “They have a real knack for taking the one I specifically requested for myself.”

I swallowed back the butterflies that tried to rise. I was actually alone with him. “I’m sorry to report that it was delicious.”

“Think they’ll save me any?”

I shook my head. “I think they’ll throw away the evidence.”

“It looks like there’s some evidence on your dress, there.”

He handed me a napkin, and I lightly dabbed at the frosting. “The danger of goodbye hugs,” I chuckled softly, marveling at the thought that I was actually talking to him. Him!

“Is that Hailey Thomas I see?” A booming man’s voice startled me, and I looked to the left to see the very familiar form of Leonard Cox joining us in the empty room. With his height and girth added to his gregarious personality, Leonard always filled up any space he was in, and I could still hear the greeting echoing off the high ceiling. “You’re outshining everyone tonight in that dress.” He held out his arms and pulled me into a hug while I watched Ford’s eyes dart back and forth between us. “Ford, why didn’t you tell me you knew Hailey?”

Ford took note that I was hugging Leonard in return, and his expression became something like calculated interest. “We haven’t known each other long,” he responded.

I squeezed the large man who was practically an uncle to me. “Leonard, you can’t expect him to list everyone he knows in the hopes that you’ll stumble across a mutual acquaintance,” I teased.

Leonard released me with a snicker. “You have a winning argument every time.” He looked past me to Ford. “Well, you couldn’t have picked a better girl to hitch up to than this one,” he grinned.

Hitch up to? Oh, no. Nope. Had he seen something on my face? Leonard was always one to jump to conclusions, but in this instance, he couldn’t possibly know how dangerous that comment was.

I nervously giggled. “Actually, we’re . . .”

He threw up his hands. “Say no more, kiddo. He’s been grieving for his wife a long time, and if he isn’t ready to tell people he’s found someone to move forward with, well, I’m happy to keep that secret. But I have to say, those two angel kids of his are sure lucky to have you around.” My throat froze, and so did Ford’s entire body. Head to toe, frozen in place. It was a stark contrast to the man I’d seen holding court a moment ago. Leonard laughed. “I can see I’ve shocked you, Ford, but don’t worry. I’ve known Hailey here since she was in diapers. Our families are the best of friends. We’ve had Sunday dinner together twice a month for nearly thirty years now, not to mention vacations and get-togethers. I can vouch for her.”

Ford seemed at a loss for words, and I had the impression that didn’t happen often.

I jumped in. “Leonard, you have the wrong idea here,” I said, embarrassment for both Ford and myself making my shoulders tighten. No woman wants to have her name and the word diapers said in the same sentence. “Mr. Whittaker and I are, well, I teach his daughter . . . actually I taught her last year, and . . .”

Once again, Leonard, true to his style, interrupted. “Worried about getting in trouble with the school for fraternizing with a student’s parent? I hear you.”

“No, that’s not a rule in our district, but . . .”

He threw up his hands, palms out. “Okay, Hailey, I’m backing off. Last thing I’m going to say is how excited I’ll be to see you at our business partner dinner next weekend. I’m going to keep it a surprise for Connie.” I had no idea what he was talking about and looked helplessly at Ford, expecting him to dive in anytime here. My attention on Ford drew Leonard’s back as well. “Ford, don’t tell me you didn’t invite your new lady to the most important meeting you might ever have?”

Ford shook his head and smoothed his expression into one of practiced ease as he held out his free hand. “There’s been a misunderstanding. Miss Thomas is simply a friend of Hillary’s.”

Leonard looked back and forth between us, analyzing. I could see the cogs in his brain working behind dark brown eyes and thinning eyebrows. My hands gripped together, knowing the stubborn look he was getting on his face. Leonard Cox was a good man but a bulldog who dug in when he felt it was necessary. Apparently, right now, it was necessary.

“Ford, I don’t take to rich men who toy around with women.” Leonard’s jaw set mulishly.

“I would never insult Miss Thomas,” Ford said calmly. “We aren’t actually a couple. We met two days ago at Hillary’s school fundraiser night.” He laughed easily and I appreciated him defusing the situation with his natural charm.

Leonard pierced me with a look. “Is that true?”

“Yes,” I replied, my shoulders relaxing. Another nervous giggle tried to work its way out. I’d always had a terrible habit of giggling when under pressure, and I hated how juvenile it could make me look. “And can I add that it’s not 1850? You don’t need to go around bullying men into treating me right.” I meant the words seriously, but I loved him enough to also understand his intention behind it, so my lips lifted into a half smile.

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