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Fortunately, her phone rings—again—bringing a halt to whatever is going on between them right now.
“I’m sorry. I have to take this.”
“You’re a busy woman.” Dad releases her hand with an arched eyebrow. “I like that.”
As she strides away, my gaze once again lingers on the gentle sway of her hips. Another jolt of guilt stabs me in the gut. I really have to stop looking at Samantha like she’s a piece of meat. Whatever happened in our past, I owe her more respect now.
“Your rival grew up well,” Dad muses.
I lift a shoulder, not wanting to let him know how I feel one way or the other.
“She was always… spirited,” he says. “I bet she’s every bit a tiger in the bedroom as she is in the boardroom.”
“Jesus, Dad,” I mumble under my breath. “Do I need to remind you that you’re old enough to be her father?”
“That would make it all the more fun.” He winks at me and heads out the door, no doubt to schmooze with some other alumni.
I glare after him wondering what bothers me more. Is it the fact that my dad is the real sleaze-bag Samantha accused me of being? Or is it the fact that I’m jealous of the way Samantha acts around him?
THREE
SAMANTHA
I have just enough time to change my outfit and apply a fresh coat of lipstick before the school tour begins.
I’m nearly out of breath when I race to the commons area outside the school office where we’re gathering beforehand. I ignore Zack’s arched eyebrow and instead throw my arms around Kat and Molly. We were best friends back in the day, but I haven’t seen either of them in longer than I care to admit.
Thank God for social media and group texting. Otherwise, I would’ve lost track of these ladies years ago. That would be a real shame.
At the front of the group, Mr. Matthews looks at the clock on the wall and clears his throat. That’s one thing I always appreciated about our AP American History and Civics teacher/Model UN sponsor. He was always prompt.
“Welcome back, Wildcats,” he calls out in his deep and soothingly familiar voice. “It’s good to see so many of you again. And it’s good to see I’m not the only one who has a few gray hairs.”
“Oh, baby. Does he ever?” Kat lowers her glasses and peers over the dark rims. “Is it me, or did Mr. Matthews somehow get even hotter?”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t be gross.”
Though, she isn’t wrong.
Mr. Matthews was always kind of cute. In that nerdy, earnest, “I care about history and government, and I want you to care, too,” way. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t once have a dream where we made out. It made things pretty awkward for me in Model UN for a while.
“Nope.” Kat pushes her glasses back up the bridge of her nose and shakes her head. “There’s no doubt. He’s definitely gotten hotter. Don’t you agree, Molly?”
Molly opens her mouth but clamps it shut almost as quickly. Her cheeks flush brightly and she lifts a shoulder.
Well, well, well. It looks like someone never got over her crush.
“Don’t worry,” one of the guys near the back of the group calls out. “I hear you were still named the hottest teacher at Pac West in the fake superlatives.”
I narrow my eyes. “Is that…”
“Judd,” Kat answers. “Looks like our Class Clown is still yucking it up.”
“Only, isn’t he getting paid to make jokes now?” I tilt my head to the side to study him. “I feel like I heard he’s a TV writer.”
“That’s what Gabby said,” Molly replies.
“Gabby!” Another classmate I liked who I haven’t seen in forever. I glance at Judd again but don’t see her. That’s odd. Gabby and Judd were basically attached at the hip back in high school. Seeing him solo is like seeing Tom Selleck without his mustache. It happens sometimes, but it’s unsettling. “I thought she was coming.”
