I force myself to smile and focus on him instead of my fury.
“So, you’ve had quite the trip,” he says. “How far is Uruguay, anyway? It’s near Brazil, right?”
“Yes, just south of Brazil, about five and a half thousand miles from here. What about you? Do you live in Cartersville?”
“A couple of towns over. It’s a bit of a hike each morning, but I enjoy the drive.” He flashes a grin. “And I get in plenty of audiobooks that way.”
“How long have you been working at Carter?”
“Since I got out of school. In fact, I’m a Carter College graduate.”
“Ahh. You must have liked the school a lot, then.”
He cocks his head. “It was hard not to. And Maya is making it better every year.”
“That’s wonderful to hear.”
There’s something overly smooth about his manner, like he’s reluctant to slip out of his PR guy role. Which means he not only looks like a politician but sounds like one, too.
Our brief exchange is interrupted by Maya asking the head of financial aid to talk about the impact she expects the scholarships to have. While the woman fills us in, I pick at my salad and let my gaze crawl down the table toward Logan. He’s obviously been expecting it because he’s staring right in my direction. He lookspained, his face pinched in remorse. Is it possible he had no idea Lisa was going to vomit her thoughts all over the table tonight?
For a few brief seconds, I feel pained, too, seeing how stricken he seems, but when I finally glance away, I remind myself where I’ve seen that look before. Not when Mel was murdered. Raw grief did something else altogether to his face, contorting it to the point where he was barely recognizable.
No, that face showed itself a year later, not long after the trial, when I told him I knew he was cheating. He was at least man enough to cop to it.
Knowing Logan, he probably spent days wondering how he’d given himself away, but it was actually the woman—his company’s brandmanager—who ended up tipping me off. It was at a party he and his partner were hosting to celebrate a new restaurant acquisition. In hindsight I realized he hadn’t specifically invited me, but I’d attended many of his events and went that night to show my support and prove I was trying to engage with the world again. He was standing next to her when I walked into the room, taking a sip from a glass of wine. After he set it down on a table, she picked up the glass and took a sip herself.
As soon as she’d swallowed, she’d cocked her head, smiled, and said something I couldn’t hear, maybe just “Nice” or “Not bad.” But that’s all it took for me to realize they were lovers. You don’t sample your boss’s drink unless you’re also fucking him.
I’m torn from my thoughts by the mention of my own name. Jerking a little in my chair, I focus my attention quickly back on the present. The head of financial aid seems to be wrapping up her remarks and is thanking Logan and me again for our gifts.
The salad plates are whisked away, and the main course is served. Maya asks me a little about Uruguay, but before long a waiter interrupts, discreetly mentioning that she has a phone call, and she excuses herself. As soon as she’s gone, I sense Handler’s attention on me from across the table.
“Are you acclimatizing to the weather here?” he asks.
“Fortunately, I haven’t had to. It’s the same temperature in Uruguay right now. As we’re transitioning into spring here, they’re heading into fall.”
It’s only when the words are out of my mouth that I realize what I’ve said, categorizing myself as someone who liveshere, not there. Is that what being gone two days has done to me?
“Well, that’s not so bad, then,” Handler says.
Alison leans toward her husband so that she’s even more in my line of vision. “Did you know Charles Darwin spent time in Uruguay when he was traveling the coastline of South America?” she says. “One of the skulls he found there was from a giant species of mammals with a head almost as big as an elephant’s.”
“Really?” I say. “I read he was in Uruguay for many weeks, but I don’t know much about his time there.”
“People think everything crystalized for him in the Galapagos, but he—”
“Darling, excuse me for cutting you off,” Handler says, touching her shoulder, “but while I have the chance, I want to give Bree some information I promised her.”
“Of course,” she says with a pleasant smile.
“Were you able to find Mel’s classwork?” I ask eagerly.
He shakes his head, lips pinched together. “I’m afraid not. Unfortunately, class material is only archived on Blackboard for five years, and then it’s automatically deleted.”
The news deflates me like I’ve had all the air sucked out of me and there’s nothing left on the chair but my blouse and skirt.
“And there’s no way to retrieve it?” I say, not disguising my frustration.
