Hunted by Beverly Long Page B

and teachings that she’d never heard of, and she’d thought he was brilliant. She’d approached him after class one day with a question, and that had led to coffee, which led to quiet dinners in his small apartment. By the fifth week of class, she’d been sleeping with him. It had been a fantasy-like romance, with him pursuing her relentlessly. The experience had been quite heady, really. She’d agreed to keep the relationship a secret, believing that he was concerned about how his boss might interpret his having a relationship with a student.
    He’d been her first lover and by the end of the semester, she’d begun planning her wedding. She’d told Mack and her dad about the relationship and they’d been insistent about meeting Christivo. But he’d had one reason after another as to why he wasn’t able to.
    Six weeks into the second semester, he’d dumped her, admitting that he was married and that his wife and two children lived three hours away, in their hometown.
    She’d been so embarrassed that she hadn’t told her family the truth. She’d lied and said they’d mutually agreed to part.
    “Christivo might have shared a toothbrush with his wife but he never shared one with me,” she said, unsure why she wanted to share that bit of information with Ethan.
    He frowned. “His wife?”
    “Yeah. Mack doesn’t know that, however, and I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell him. Even though it’s been eight years, he’d probably still want to kill him for me.”
    “Maybe I’ll do it for him,” Ethan said, his voice hard.
    She shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”
    He stared at her. “But there’s been no one else?”
    “I’ve dated,” she said, feeling the need to defend herself. “Quite a bit,” she added.
    “But never got serious with anyone again?”
    She hadn’t been that brave. “I was busy. Working full-time, and I just finished getting my master’s degree last year.”
    He nodded but she could tell that he didn’t believe her.
    What else could she say? I was waiting for you or at least the image of you I’ve carried around in my head since I was fourteen. He’d be scared that she’d left crazy germs on his toothbrush.
    * * *
    T HERE WERE TWO different men sitting at the counter when they got downstairs. These guys were a bit older but dressed almost identically to the ones who had occupied the stools that morning. Whoever sold the brown overalls in town had a real monopoly going.
    There was a husband and wife and a noisy baby in a high chair. The only other occupied booth had one lone man drinking coffee and eating a piece of chocolate cream pie.
    Which Chandler took one look at and promptly decided that she was having a piece.
    They took the booth farthest from the door. Ethan took the side facing the door; Chandler had her back to it.
    When Roxy approached the table, she smiled at them. “Looks as if you got some sleep. You don’t look quite so hollow-eyed.”
    “The bed was really comfortable,” Chandler said. “Wasn’t it, honey?” she added, looking at Ethan.
    “Felt good to stretch out,” he replied, not missing a beat.
    She wanted to roll her eyes but she didn’t. When Roxy pointed at a chalkboard on the wall, Chandler quickly read through the six choices. Ethan had been right about the meat loaf special. “I’ll have the meat loaf. And a piece of that pie,” she added, inclining her head in the direction of the lone diner.
    “I’ll take the egg salad sandwich and the beef barley soup,” Ethan said.
    “You going to let your wife eat her pie alone?” Roxy asked.
    Ethan shook his head. “Nope. I’ll take a piece of that, too.”
    As Roxy walked away, they switched their attention to the television. The volume was low but they were close enough that they could hear the announcer. “Worst storm in ten years.” “Snow falling at more than two inches an hour.” “Interstate 70 expected to be closed for at least another twelve hours.”
    That meant it