Amanda grins. “I’ve always had a bit of an entrepreneurial flair.”
“But to afford something like this at your age is incredible.”
Amanda waves the comment away. “Nah. You just need to be smart with your money. Know how to make the right decisions. That sort of thing.”
I look over at the clock on the wall. We’ve been talking for over an hour. Mel had curled up near the couch and fallen asleep a long time ago. I stifle a yawn.
“So!” Amanda announces suddenly. “How did you say that you and Richard met?”
My defenses snap into place immediately. “I didn’t,” I reply.
“Come on now, we’re friends, aren’t we? There’s no need to keep little things like that from each other.”
The eagerness in her voice makes me wary. “What did Rich tell you?”
She grimaces. “I couldn’t get a word out of him.” She shifts her shoulders so the neck of her gown dips forward. “And I know how to be persuasive with men.”
I feel a stab of envy at her full-bodied figure. “Maybe there’s a reason for that.”
Amanda frowns. “You’re really not going to tell me? After everything I told you about my life?”
“It’s not really my place to say anything,” I tell her, choosing my words carefully. “You can ask Rich in the morning.”
“So, it’s a big secret then, is it?” Amanda says with a hint of a sneer. “Fine. I won’t push. Can you at least tell me how long you’ve known him?”
“Less than a week,” I say without thinking. Immediately, I regret my words.
“A week?” Amanda says with exaggerated nonchalance. “Wow. Richard must really like you to bring you to see his ex so soon.”
“I don’t know about that…”
“I was the first to bed him, you know,” Amanda continues casually over me. “He’ll never look at another woman the way he does at me. I broke his heart, though, poor boy. I don’t think he’s ever recovered.” She yawns and stretches her arms wide over her head. “When he told me he needed a place to stay, I knew what it would do to him to be around me. I almost refused, for his sake, but he sounded so desperate…” she clicks her jaw shut. “Well. Never mind all that. I’m going to bed. I suggest you do the same.” She gives me a predatory smile. “Sweet dreams.”
***
I stay in the room and sip at my cold chamomile for a few minutes after Amanda leaves. What she had told me doesn’t jive with what Rich had said. Obviously, one of them was lying. And although Rich had lied to me before, my bet is that this time, it was Amanda.
Is she really so insecure as to be threatened by me? She put on a brave front, but the minute our conversation turned to Rich, she became petty and spiteful.
I sigh and stand up, turning off the light. I thought Amanda’s efforts to reconcile things between us had been genuine, but now, I’m not so sure.
Chapter Ten
The next day, I wake up just before noon. A dull rain beats against the bedroom window. The sky is overcast, making for a dreary morning.
I leave the bedroom and walk to the kitchen. I can smell hash browns and eggs in the air. But what I really want, and what drives me out of my room without so much as a glance in the mirror, is the promise of freshly-brewed, strong black coffee.
I find Amanda by the sink, doing the dishes. Mel is lying at her feet. The dog sees me, gets up, and trots over to get a pat on the head.
“We missed you at breakfast,” Amanda comments cheerily. “Richard didn’t want to wake you, so we left some food on the table.” She looks over her shoulder at me. “You can use the microwave to warm it up if you want.”
“Thanks,” I say, picking up the plate. “Where’s Rich?”
“He said he had to run some errands in town.” Amanda shrugs. “He’ll be back soon.”
I wonder what his “errands” really entail. The microwave beeps and I take my food out. Mel trots up to me at the table, and I sneak her a little bit of sausage when Amanda’s not looking. She gobbles it happily.
“Oh, Richard told me how you two met, by the way,” Amanda mentions over the sound of running water.
I look at her and perk an eyebrow. “Did he?”
“Yeah. He told me the whole thing. You were with friends at some club. Barley’s or something.”
“Barren,” I correct.
Amanda snaps her fingers. “That’s it! Barren. He said you just broke up with your boyfriend and were looking for a rebound.” She gives me an even look. “I don’t blame you. Richard said he seduced you quite easily.”
“Oh.”
Amanda laughs. “That was the big secret, wasn’t it? I can’t believe you didn’t just tell me.” She wipes her hands on a towel and sits down across from me. “Richard said when your boyfriend found out you left with him, he became so enraged he went to your apartment and destroyed all your stuff. You were afraid to stay there the next day in case he came back, so Rich offered to take care of you. You wanted to get away, so he brought you here.” Amanda tilts her head to the side. “That about right?”
I nod. “Something along those lines.” So Rich had told Amanda about where we’d met. But he’d also made up everything else to hide the truth of what happened after. It meant he didn’t want to involve Amanda in his secrets.
“You should have just told me,” Amanda says, touching my arm. “There’s no shame in hiding from a vengeful ex. Especially when he sounds as out of control as Richard made him seem.”
“I don’t have the best luck picking boyfriends,” I admit, playing along.
“And you’re not the first to fall for Richard’s charms.” She offers a significant look. “I should know.”
“So then, you guys were together for a while?” I ask, trying to steer the conversation away from me. The simplest lies are the best, and the less we talk about the circumstances of my meeting with Rich, the less chance I have of accidentally saying something that might not match what he had told Amanda.
Amanda sighs. “You could say that. Almost half a year. He was crazy for me. Told me I meant the world to him, told me I was his only true love.” She looks down at her hands. “But, you know. Things change. People drift apart. Sometimes, even love isn’t enough to keep them together.”
“Did you love him?” I ask, trying to figure out how Amanda’s story meshes with the one Rich had told me.
“Of course!” she says fiercely. “Why would I stay in a relationship for so long if I didn’t?”
“Convenience? Apathy? Indifference?”
Amanda scowls at me. “You sound like you’re forty years old and stuck in a loveless marriage. No. Of course not. I loved him.”
“Then why did you break up?”
“He became too possessive.” Amanda’s eyes flicker to meet mine for a moment, then she looks away again. “He thought he could control me, tell me where I could go, who I could see, what I could wear.” She shivers visibly. “It was suffocating.”
“That doesn’t really sound like Rich.”
Amanda’s eyes shoot back to meet mine. “Just you wait,” she warns. “Things will be going smoothly at first, and then—” she snaps her fingers, “—he’ll change. They always do.”
“You’re assuming,” I point out, “that we’re together.”
Amanda looks taken aback. “Aren’t you?”
“I’m not sure,” I say slowly. I don’t know exactly what Rich had told Amanda about us. If I admit or deny a hard fact like that, and Rich had told her something different, she might get suspicious. Better to play it safe.
“Come now, don’t play coy. I’ve seen the way you look at him. You lust after him, don’t you? I bet he showed you the time of your life the night you met.”
I feel my cheeks go three types of red. Amanda gives a delighted laugh and points at me. “You see? I can tell these things.” She lowers her voice. “I taught him everything he knows.”
I clear my throat and look away before the blush turns my whole body red.
“Ahem. Can we talk about something else?”
Amanda raises her hands in the air, palms forward. “Sure. I didn’t realize you were so sensitive.” It sounds like a judgment.
“Well, I am,” I fire back, stiffening. I’m actually not, not really, but I don’t have any great desire to talk about sex with Amanda, either. “Is that a problem?”
“No, no problem. What would you like to talk about, then?” She looks at the clock behind her. “I’ve got to go soon, though. Work beckons.”
“Where do you work?” I ask, hoping the pull the conversation back into neutral territory.
“In town,” Amanda answers slyly.
“That’s not what I meant—”
“I know it’s not what you meant. But those types of questions lead to such boring conversations. It’s like all those clueless guys at the bars.” Amanda holds her hands out in front of her and mimes them talking to each other. “‘Oh, hi, can I buy you a drink?’ ‘Sure, why not?’ ‘So, what do you do?’ ‘I’m a hairdresser.’ ‘Oh.’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘Do you, um, like it?’ ‘It pays the bills.’ ‘Hmm.’” Amanda rolls her eyes and groans. “Please. Don’t tell me you want to have one of those with me. Anyway, I bet Richard didn’t say anything of the kind when you met.”
I think back to that night. Even though only a few days have passed, it feels like a lifetime ago. I wonder how Abby’s managing after getting evicted. I wonder what she thinks has happened to me. Probably that I’m staying away because I’m pissed at her.
“You’re right,” I say finally. “He didn’t say anything like that.”
“You see? Those conversations are BO-RING. As if you can tell anything about a person by where she works. You won’t know if she’s fun to be around, if she’s trustworthy. If she’s ever slept with your ex…” Amanda meets my eye and holds it. I clear my throat again. She laughs. “Tell me. How much do you know about Richard?”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard what I said. How much do you know about the man you came here with?”
I shift in my seat. “You mean like, his history? Not a lot.”
Amanda nods. “Did he tell you about his family?”
“Just a tiny bit.”
“Figures. When I met him, he was trying to get away from them.”
“Really?”
“Yup. Who knows if I should be telling you this…” she lowers her voice conspiratorially, “but I don’t think Rich will mind. Did he tell you who his father is?”
“No.” I pause. “Though I know they didn’t get along.”
Amanda scoffs. “That’s putting it lightly. Richard hates his father. And he has good reason to. He grew up in a broken home.”
“What do you mean?”
“His mother died… Wait. Do you know about her?”
I nod. “Rich told me she passed away.”
“I thought so. If he told you about his dad, he must have mentioned his mom. He has no reason to keep her secret. Anyway, she died when he was young. He says he doesn’t remember her. I think he does, but locks the memories up somewhere.” Amanda shrugs. “But what do I know? That’s not the point, anyway.”
I’m not really following. “What is the point?”
“Only this: His mother died under suspicious circumstances.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, Richard’s father was a wealthy, well-connected man. He never married Richard’s mother. The year she died, his father campaigned to become Governor of New York. He didn’t win. But because he was never married, yet had kids with her, his opponents ran a smear campaign. His political district was very conservative in those days. They wanted a Governor with strong family values, an unwavering belief in God, and all that other bullshit.” Amanda makes a dismissive gesture. “The mother of his children was his weakness. To win his electoral back, he made grand pronouncements about marrying Richard’s mother. As damage control, of course.
“She came from an unknown family,” Amanda continues. “Richard showed me a picture of her once. She was beautiful. Yet to his father, she was nothing more than another pretty face.” Amanda pauses, and takes a deep breath. “A month before the wedding she goes missing. A week later, her body is found in a ditch. Police never solved the crime.”
“And Rich suspects his father was involved?” I ask, incredulous.
“Of course. Think of the timing. His father did not want to marry. It wasn’t like he could marry her and get a divorce later—not if he won the election. It would crush his hopes for a second term. But a kidnapping, a murder? It was the perfect solution for his problem. He’d be rid of the woman he didn’t want around, and gain sympathy from the public at the same time.” Amanda looks at me. “Quite clever of him, I’d say.”
“Yeah, if you’re a raving sociopath.” I shake my head. “I don’t believe it. If it’s so obvious to you and Rich, why didn’t the police catch on?”
“Oh, but you underestimate the power of money. Richard’s father had a lot. He also had friends in high places. The investigation was a sham. All the proper bribes were put in place to make sure of it.”
“That’s horrible!” I exclaim.
“Now you see why Richard and his father don’t get along. That was just one of many incidences.”
“You don’t mean he killed other people?”
Amanda shakes her head. “No. Don’t be stupid. But he had plenty of dealings with unsavory types.” She lowers her voice. “And he never killed Richard’s mother. That’s just our suspicion.”
I nod slowly. I don’t know how much of this to believe, but on the whole, Amanda seems genuine. It wouldn’t be easy for her to make up a story like that on the spot.
I think I’m starting to understand her, a little bit. When she is playing the part of the jaded ex-lover, she probably tells the truth. But when it comes to the circumstances surrounding her breakup with Rich,… well, who wouldn’t try to make herself look better in that situation?
“Okay then,” I say. “What else?”
“What else?” Amanda chuckles. “That should be reason enough for anybody to hate their father.”
“You said Rich grew up in a broken home.”
Amanda leans toward me. “That much is true. After his mother died, a parade of women started visiting his father. All his… mistresses.” Amanda grimaces. “It kept up until Richard left. Hell, it probably continues to this day.”
So Amanda doesn’t know his farther is in jail. “Interesting.”
“He never made time for Richard, either. It was either his work, or his women. You can see how a boy growing up in an environment like that can become spiteful.”
“Yeah. What happened to prompt Rich to finally leave, though?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“No.”
Amanda bites her lip. “I don’t doubt he would if you ask…” she trails off and glances at the clock. “But I’ve got a few more minutes. You know Richard got accepted to Princeton, right?”
My eyebrows shoot up. “The Ivy League school? No.”
Amanda grins proudly. “Yeah. He doesn’t mention it much. But his father was an alumnus. Same with his grandfather. In fact, all the men in the Blackthorne family had traditionally been educated at Princeton.”
“I mean, I knew Rich was sharp, but Ivy League smart?” I pause. “That’s impressive.”
“Don’t go telling him that, though,” Amanda warns. “That’s one surefire way to set him off.”
“What?” I ask, puzzled. “Why?”
“He doesn’t put much stock in traditional methods of education. Or in the traditional value of money. He’s seen what both did to his father.”
“But I met him at the community college. You did too, right?”
“That’s where he went instead of Princeton.”
“That’s traditional education, isn’t it? Except much less prestigious.”
Amanda laughs with contempt. “Don’t mention ‘prestige’ to him, either. He’ll light
up faster than a forest in a heat wave.”
“Fine. But why go to a community college when you could go to Princeton?”
“So he doesn’t end up like his father, for one,” Amanda explains. “For another, I think it allowed him to go at his own pace. It’s much less cut-throat here than on the east coast.”
“I can imagine,” I say. In high school, I’d seen the sort of competitiveness that drives kids toward acceptances in the country’s top colleges. Stories of sabotage and betrayal filtered down through the grapevine. Some had been absolutely appalling. One girl faked her own suicide to get the school to close down for a day, just so she could have extra time to study for a test. The year after, she matriculated at Harvard. “Still, if Rich is so smart, I don’t see how he can be satisfied with taking what are more-or-less remedial high school classes.”
“He reads a lot,” Amanda says. “You’ve been to his apartment, right? You’ve seen all the books on his shelves? They’re like his only possessions—other than the bed.” She purses her lips and looks uncertain for a moment. “Unless he’s changed the place around.”
A light comes on in my head. So that’s what all the boxes in his hall were. His books. Of course he’d want them out of harm’s way when it came time for his friends to trash the place. “No, it’s still exactly like that.”
Amanda smiles. “See? You’ve got to learn to piece these things together, Penelope.”
I shrug off the slightly-provoking comment. “So Rich didn’t go to Princeton. Is that what caused the rift between him and his father?”
“I’d say the rift was there long before. Princeton was more like the straw that broke the camel’s back. His father kicked him out of the house when he refused to go. But Richard was getting set to leave, anyway.”
“Hmm. And he was what, eighteen, when it happened?”
Amanda nods.
“How long ago was that?”
Amanda blows out her cheeks. “Um, it must have been seven, eight years ago now.” She seems surprised by the number. “Wow. I’ve known him for almost a decade. Sure doesn’t feel that long.”
Change of Heart Page 13